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spooky-bunnys · 9 months

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The sound of glass breaking made (Name) jump. He was home alone at the moment as his husbands were at work. They were checking on the clubs under their gang of Bonten. So he knew thay sound wasn't a good sound.

(Name) quickly sent a message to the groupchat him and his husbands had. Before quickly turning into his cat form and slid under the couch. Of course he took his phone with him so the people who broke in wouldn't find it.

(Name)'s phone started vibranting. It said a call was coming through. So he answered. Putting it on speaker and left out a soft meow. Which let whoever was on the other end what they needed to know. The people had made it to where he was.

In the Haitani car, the brothers had muted their side of the call. Listening carefully for what was going on. This wasn't the first time someone broke in. But considering (Name) is alone at the house made them nervous. They had let the guards off for the night.

They froze as they heard footsteps too close to the phone that they'd like. They felt their breath hitch as the footsteps stop. But relaxed when they continued. Good they were leaving.

"MEOW!"

They felt they're blood run could at the sound of (Name)'s scream. They'd found him. They heard distant talking. Then the sounds of breathing caught their attention.

"This him? Looks like a regular house cat."

"Nah man. His fur matches the color of the ears and tails from the photo. That's him."

"Good. Hurry up and knock him out before his turns back. We can't afford for him to have any marks."

The brother traded look of dread. They knew those voices. Those were the men that came to Bonten. Wanting to join directly under Mikey. But they were rejected. They weren't qualified or trusted to be Bonten excutives.

So this is how they get back at Bonten? Kidnapping Mikey's brother and their mate? Did they have that bad of a death wish?! They heard someone clear their throat. They knew where this was going so they unmute their side.

"Hello Haitani's. We've got your pussy cat bitch." The person on the other side let out a loud laugh.

"Listen closely. We know who you are. Just know that when we find you. You'll beg to die."

They heard a crunch then a beep but they knew what happened. They broke the phone so it wouldn't be tracked. But they didn't know, Bonten don't need phones to track people. Especially someone whose as important as (Name) is. Considering Mikey has all Bonten excutives and (Name) are all chipped.

In case something like this happens. It was all (Name)'s idea. After Sanzu got so high nobody could find him for almost 3 weeks. So everyone agreed to be chipped. Although it took (Name) a while to get Mikey to agree to it. But everyone knows Mikey would do anything for (Name).

They knew one thing for sure. They needed to get to Bonten Headquarters. Now.

When the brothers arrived at Headquarters, they weren't exactly expecting everyone to be there. But Bonten was. Along with (Name)'s best friend Muto. When the brothers entered Mikey's office, it was like the others knew something was going on.

As they all entered Mikey looked up from the paper work with a raised eyebrow. The brothers didn't waste anytime to explain what had happened. Even going as far as to replay the call. By the time they heard the crunch, anger had already surrounded the office.

"I recognized the voices. It was that group of men that came in like last month. The one that wanted to join Bonten right under you Mikey."

"Wait thats what I came here to talk about."

Everyone turned to where Muto stood. His face covered in a serious look. While his arms were crossed across his chest. They looked at him confusingly. He rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

"I was literally telling you guys that people were tailing (Name) and I today. Were none of you listening?"

The said members avoided eye contact. Muto huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated when shit like this happens.

"Has anyone checked his chip yet?"

At Mikey's question everyone (minus the Haitani brothers) froze before slowly looking at Kokonoi. Who had already pulled out his laptop. Immediately setting up (Name)'s tacker. They quickly huddled around the laptop. Looking for the (color) kitten icon that was (Name)'s icon.

Takeomi pointed at he quick moving icon. Which gained eveyone's attention. It was heading towards the Tokyo airport. That got them up and going. Practically tripping over each other trying to get out to the cars. Surprisingly Mikey was the first out of the office and into the elevator with the others and Muto following.

(Name) didn't know where he was or how long he'd been out of it. All he knows is the bag he's is, definitely needs to be cleaned. Like damn it smells like sweaty gym clothes and old socks. He was going to have a very long shower after this is over.

He isn’t stupid. He know's his husbands and possibly his brother were coming for him. This wasn't his fist rodeo. He also knows this won't be the last time something like this will happen. But he's always resuced by his loved ones.

Then he's kept under watch by said loved ones. (Name) definitely is gonna have a bubble bath and vacation once this setles down. He can already feel the stress and gray hair. (Name) shut his eyes. Trying to get as comfortable as he can. Since it'll probably be a while before he's found.

All of a sudden the car swerved and (Name) heard a lot of yelling and gun fire. Which meant a few things. First, he was found. Second, he can't have a nap. Finally, he will be lecturing his loved ones if they make the car he's in crash. He doesn't want to be injured in this form.

The pain is worse in his cat form, then his human form. (Name) already had a low pain tolerance. He didn't need to be reminded of it!

The car swered again before it stopped. (Name) didn't move. He didn't know where in the car his is, but if he had to bet he'd bet the trunk. (Name) heard cars opening and closing and more gun fire.

So like any of time this happened (Name) just patiently waited until he knew he was safe to reveal his whereabouts. The gun firing went off for a while longer. (Name) was just trying to get out of the bag he was in. Which was rougher then usual considering someone tied the opening.

(Name) froze when everything stopped. His breathing slowed. Trying to listen carefully to the surrounding sound. He didn't move until he heard familiar meowing. Which he immediately returned loudly. Announcing his location.

He heard a click and he saw brightness through the bag. So he was right. The trunk. He felt the bag get picked up which quickly startled him. Making him hiss on instinct. (Name) felt the bag he was in be snatched which again made him hiss. He hard aruging between one of his husbands and Sanzu.

The bag shook as someone untied the opening. Revealing a smiling Ran and a slightly smiling Mikey. (Name) launched himself towards the two. Extremely happy that he was out of the gross bag. Which had turned out the be a draw string bag. (Name) purred as he rubbed himself under Ran's chin and against Mikey's cheek. Making the two males huff out a laugh.

(Name) sent them both a look soon after. Which they immediately knew what he wanted. A glass of milk and a shower.

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #bonten #bonten x male reader #ran haitani #haitani ran x male reader #haitani brothers #haitani rindou #haitani rindou x male reader #haitani brothers x male reader

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yurislotusgarden · 10 months

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Can I request dazai confessing his feelings to reader and reader thinks that’s he’s not being serious but is still a bit flustered and dazai tells them he is being serious. Thank you 💕

Serious

ʚїɞ Dazai Osamu x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes!

ʚїɞ Why was I so nervous about my first request? ;-;

ʚїɞ Hope I didn't disappoint you with this one anon

ʚїɞ word count: 1262

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, nicknames: 'bella, my dear Belladonna, reader's gender is not specified

Dazai has been leaving hints… at least he hoped they were ones, as it seemed you didn't realize what he’s been doing for the past months. The brunette came to accept his feelings for you a long time ago, even if it took even longer to realize them and accept that he actually feels… romantic love for once.

He knows you like him, and he’s happy! But why can't you realize the feelings are mutual? It’s frustrating to no end.

“My dear Belladonna!” Was the only thing you heard before Dazai literally threw himself at you, and the only reason why you're not on the floor right now is because he has already done this so many times, that you’re used to how you should put your foot down to not go crashing to the floor. The few first times of him doing this were… quite painful for your back.

“Dazai?” A sigh came from you, already considering if the decision you made this morning to actually come to work instead of calling in sick was a good idea. You just had a feeling something was gonna happen but didn't know if it would be a good or bad thing, and you’re someone who trusts their guts most of the time. “What is it this time?”

“I have something to confess!” The brunette was visibly happy about something, but with how close you were to him with Dazai clinging onto you, you were pretty sure you saw something else flash in his eyes, nervousness perhaps? No, it’s Dazai after all, why would he be nervous?

“Oh no-”

““Oh no”?!“ An offended gasp came from the bandaged man. “What do you mean by that ‘Bella?!”

“The last time you decided to confess something it ended up in a week-long discussion on the topic. I don’t want a repeat of that” You rolled your eyes playfully. Around a month earlier Dazai commented on something specific that ended up with the whole agency having a discussion about it for a whole week. You are pretty sure your co-workers argued even on missions.

“... Alright that’s fair” Came the answer before the weight of the man on you disappeared, yet his arms still remained around you.

“Anyway, about the thing I want to say. It’s important.” The tone he used quite shocked you, it’s not often you hear Dazai being serious.

The taller man thinks the opportunity is quite good. There’s no one in the office as it’s quite late and they went home and he wasn't sure if he could pull off a romantic place without raising suspicion on what he was about to do. You stayed behind to sort some paperwork and he? Well, he just had to stay! Can’t let his beautiful belladonna be alone, could he?

“I’m listening” You were serious as well. You thought that it was maybe work-related, or something similar with how serious he was acting. Maybe another organization is coming to Yokohama again? God, you hope they won’t be like the guild if so. They were really annoying. if not, maybe-

“I like you” Stopped your thoughts. What did you just hear?

“Wait what?”

“I like you, like like you”

It was impossible, Dazai the womanizer™ as Kunikida called him once, the guy who flirts with all women he deems he wants to flirt with he flirted less and less since he realized his feeling for you but you did not really realize that sadly, your crush for some goddamn reason, really, who let you like him that way? Said that he has feelings for you. That your feelings are mutual but it isn’t possible that he actually likes you back… right?

…You hoped the slight blush coming onto your cheeks was unnoticeable.

“Dazai-” There was a short break in your sentence, you trying to grasp your thoughts “-what are you on about? I think I told you to not joke about such stuff”

It isn’t possible he likes you. He didn't show any hints! At least you don't think so. You started to think of anything you possibly can but you couldn’t really see any actions made by him that would signal that he even has feelings for anyone. You aren’t that oblivious as to not notice your crush likes you back right?

“I’m not joking [Name]” The fact that the brunette not only was saying all this in a serious voice but the fact that he also used your name?! He absolutely never does that, the last time he used your name was maybe a few months back, you were starting to think he simply forgot your name so he went for nicknames instead.

“Dazai it isn’t funny you-”

“-I’m not joking [Name]. I’m completely serious” There he goes using your name again. You don’t get it. There’s no possibility of this not being a joke, after all, there’s no way that Dazai Osamu likes you. Really, only if you knew you were in a straight-up denial.

“How can you expect me to believe that?” Your voice came out weaker than you had wanted, but you don’t think about it for too long, not when you need answers.

“How am I supposed to not be serious when it’s you that I think about all the time? When I picture you whenever something reminds me of you, whether it’s something someone said or a place we were at together before. I don’t think you noticed ‘bella, but I barely flirt with women anymore, even the waitress downstairs. Hell, I’m still doing it only to distract myself from the very possible rejection from you”

Dazai knows that even he can’t be 100% sure that you will say yes. As much as he knows his feelings are not one-sided, he also knows you may still reject him for multiple reasons.

And you? Speechless would be the perfect description of your face right now. Everything about the bandaged man in front of you is screaming genuineness, absolutely no jokes.

You don’t know what really got you to believe that he’s saying the truth, whether it’s the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, his words themselves, or his body language, but something did.

“You really do like me back?”

“Yeah… Yes I do”

The gentle look on his face simply broke you. He seemed so… happy, at the fact that you realized he’s serious. Dazai knew that there was a possibility of you not believing his words, he fully understands because of the way he acts on a daily basis.

“...’bella I know you know what I want to hear” Came a surprisingly quiet response from the brunette, and you indeed knew. Do you accept his confession or reject it? He seemed to really want to know, and you felt like you would break the man beyond repair if you said no. Your answer was quite obvious to you, you didn't even need to think about it before you smiled gently and chuckled at his nervousness of being rejected, he looked like a high school boy confessing his feeling for the first time in his life in your eyes.

“And we both know that my answer is a positive one”

To only say that some sort of weight was gone from Dazai’s shoulders would be an understatement of the century.

It would also be an understatement of the century to say that he wanted to be away from you, and hey, who’s gonna stop him from being clingy to you? Because it’s for sure not gonna be you.

Answer to the last question? Kunikida

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3

#bsd x reader #bsd dazai #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #cute #bsd fluff #fluff #soft dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral post

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philtstone · 9 months

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Aditha/nandini jacket

AFTER A MILLION YEARS I FINIALLY FINISHED THIS set in this verse and a prequel to the silly asides in this fic. a mix of book and movie canon as usual! for those who responded to my wip poll im sorry i ignored literally all of your votes and instead worked on "in which vandiyadevan is trapped in the toilet" but it ended up working out for everyone (me and the 2 mutuals reading this) so whos laughing NOW anyway apologies in advance for any cultural errors or general incoherency; its one in the morning and maya is in a different time zone. i had to google things! also none of this is serious. enjoy!

Evening is cooler than Nandini expected.

After the tumultuous heat of Poonghuzhali’s van, and the station, and the day, and the week — well, she did not anticipate shivering in the dark outside this dormitory. The leather motorcycle jacket she so pointedly wore in the blistering sun now, a week later, lies untouched beside her. They have had three stare-offs in the last twenty minutes, she and the jacket. She cannot bring herself to put it on; the idea leaves a queer feeling in her belly that she doesn’t care to examine.

The dormitory itself is a relatively humble one, considering the wealth of its former occupant’s family. More a boy’s hostel than the kind of lodging the Cholas might secure for their most beloved child. Arunmozhi seems completely unbothered by the state of it. He grins widely at the orange toned walls, scuffed, and the low doors, slamming open and shut at intervals (though less now, so late into the night), and the general ruckus of the boys who greet them. They were all but cheering in welcome of their former dorm mate and his mismatched band of traveling companions, needing a place to avoid the authorities and – impossibly – his Uncles’ and her fathers’ spies, last minute. There was a lot of hugging that went around, at any rate. It’s not quite an elder siblingish relationship, Nandini thinks, though she is absurdly then struck by the question of whether the benign, chummy, kindly way Arunmozhi interacts with the younger boys is patterned after the way his own — that is to say, he has an older br — oooh.

Nandini does not want to think about it.

Just as well, because she’s many other, marginally less useless things to think of.

She is thinking of these things quite obsessively, in matter of fact. Scientific observation would suggest a verge on neuroticism. So it goes in Nandini’s head: oh, Lord, My Mother. She is Here. I’ve met Her. She is Alive after all, and so Beautiful, and so Fucking Weird.

(The capitalizations are quite manifest in her own thoughts).

If anyone else were to say the last she’d box them, but God it is true, and Nandini is nearly brought to happy tears by the realness of her mother’s strangeness. Her mother is exactly the same height as she. Her ears are not pierced. She favours her left leg, while Nandini favours neither, but when she walks she sways her hips in much the same way Nandini does when she is not thinking about it. She has hair which is nearly the same length and weight and texture, and it curls around the ears such that it must tickle – Nandini has much experience with this. Her mother’s fingers taper off as hers do; the nail beds are the same; her mother’s chin dimples against her neck in a way Nandini has always felt insecure about in herself. They have a mole in the same spot on their arm; Nandini’s left toe has a bunion near identical to the left toe of her mother; the bottom row of her mother’s teeth lay the same; her mother’s breasts are not very small, but not overly large either, and sit in the same position Nandini's do; her cheeks possess vestiges of the same roundness; her elbow wrinkles in the same way; her eyebrows are a bit unkempt in the middle, like Nandini’s were when she was a child and could not be bothered with their upkeep.

How strange it is! To see your own face so clearly in another. The slope of her nose — the curve of her mouth — the way her hair falls. Nandini wonders if this is what she will look like when she is old. She wonders if she is what her mother looked like when she was young. Surely the answer is yes. They are now inseparable in her mind, she and her mother, and it is overwhelming. She does not even need a father anymore; he has been axed from the equation. She has a mother. She knows her mother!

And when she saw her mother for the first time, cheerfully led out of the very mundane, uninspired Thanjai local jail, her mother knew her. Nandini had stood, transfixed, as Mandakini had touched her gently on the cheek, just so, and began to cry quiet little tears that slipped down her cheeks like they were the simplest thing in the world for her to give, to feel, to shed.

Nandini has always hated crying. Real crying, anyway; she is an expert fake crier, as anyone successful in the world of Tamil soaps must be. But real crying is snotty and uncontrollable and undignified.

Nandini thinks (she has been thinking all evening – it is really getting to be bad for her health) that is what makes her mother at once so unfamiliar, too.

There is so much tenderness in her face. Even without words (Nandini is so very good with words, honeyed and poisoned and flat and querulous, even, rarely, honest) her mother tells the world of her love. For her daughter (who craves it so badly); for Arunmozhi (who despite Nandini’s earliest assumptions seems to know he must earn it, however freely it is given); for simply living, it seems. Nandini cannot understand this last part. Life has been on whole pretty miserable, for her mother. What right does it have to her love?

Nandini does not think she could ever love like that.

She’s seated and steeped in these ruminations on the topmost step of the dusty concrete facing the dormitory courtyard; behind her must be the toilets, for there is a light on inside one of them, and in front of her is a small garden decorated with scraggly trees which housed the mango-stealing monkey who had earlier been tormenting the dorm’s inhabitants, and a little walking path. Earlier, in the dark, she saw Arunmozhi and her mother (her mother!) start off on a little walk along the path. She supposes it does make sense; they have not seen each other in a while, and he has explained to her how Mandakini saved him from that lake, and that rickshaw, and also his own slippery bathtub once in this very same dorm. They’re old pals: Nandini knew this going into the venture. He knows sign language and everything, and can communicate with her far better than Nandini can. So it makes sense that they must now catch each other up – she on why the police inspector was bribed to arrest her (this is still a little muddy) and he on his future career plans (vague) and current family business rescue plans (hairbrained and relying too much on the goodwill of Nandini herself, if she’s being honest). But watching them go, arm in arm, signing animatedly at one another left a strange ache in her heart. That was a while ago. Bits of the yard are illuminated by the light from one or two dorm windows, but on whole, it is past curfew, and therefore dark; Nandini is more or less alone with her thoughts and also the noise from the city beyond the wall.

Being alone, she has spent the last thirty seconds staring sightlessly at some invisible point in front of her, eyes the size of saucers, spiraling.

“Erm – ahem.”

Nandini startles so badly her bangle-clad wrist nearly knocks into her own nose.

Aditha Karikalan has never been particularly tall. When they were teenagers there was a brief month where she had an inch on him. Right now, however, he stands above her such that she has to look up, and once more notice the fact that he does carry himself with a kind of dignified height. Which Nandini appreciates. Or did appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. The last week has been quite a lot of everything. He wears a loose linen button down in a bright orange pattern open over a t-shirt, and a simple dhoti clumsily tied (she remembers the rare time he wore one in school, when they weren’t wearing their uniforms, she had helped him tie it), and sandals, and his wrists are sporting a nice fancy watch but they’re also covered in enough bead bracelets that, paired with his hair – unruly and wild and long as ever – he really does look far more the part of children’s camp counselor than first son of any kind of business mogul-cum-politician.

Which Nandini appreciates. Or could appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. A week ago, she would have very deliberately said, well, and what does a camp counselor make, anyway – I want to be a Bollywood actress, and glared him down out of spite.

The last week really has been a lot of everything.

Anyway; she stares at him. Amidst her up-til-now very private spiraling.

Her mother her mother her mother her mother oh she is so known but so unknown oh they cannot love the same oh perhaps Nandini cannot love at all oh that must mean that must mean must it mean? that she, Nandini, well could she be broken is that what her mother sees surely she sees –

“I just – well. There’s the – the restroom is right there. So I’d come to …” And here Aditha stops his terribly uncomfortable and verging on comical awkward explanation, tilts his head – some immaterial spark of understanding happening in his sharp lovely eyes – and says, in an abortedly gruff tone that does very little to prevent what happens next, “Nandini … are you – alright?”

Nandini, rather unexpectedly, begins blubbering. Loudly.

Her face crumples in on itself. Her shoulders hunch inward. Her nose gets snotty and her throat clogs up. And in general, she makes a very pathetic sort of hiccupy wailing noise, which she had not planned for.

“Shit,” says Aditha above her, after a moment of stunned silence. “Fuck, okay – Nandini? Well, you shouldn’t cry – come on, pull it together. The toilets are right there, look, someone’s even using them. Uh – well – alright, alright. It’s alright.”

None of his stammered, asinine condolences register much in Nandini’s ears. She is just very overwhelmed. It is only after a moment of her crying, sat on her rump outside the men’s toilets, that the stiff, chilly awkwardness of the night air changes, and there is a person quite suddenly beside her, and then not just beside her at all, but holding her – his arms carefully wrapped around her shoulders, his warm chest a perfect distance from her cheek, his large hands flattening clumsily over her back. Their knees bump together, and it isn’t very graceful at all – she refuses to move, so he must lean over ungainingly, and is probably quite uncomfortable doing it.

Nandini cries into Aditha’s shoulder for five or ten minutes. He only pats her back stupidly once, at the start, and by the end of it, it is a proper embrace, and they are even rocking back and forth just a little.

It’s nice.

Presently, Nandini’s tears slow, and she registers the position she is in more properly. Whole-bodily, in fact. She had not expected that her body’s memory would slip back into this embrace so easily, and the realization is disquieting. She does not move, and Aditha does not move – she wonders if he is having the same panicked, wary thoughts – and so they sit in a stupid little impasse, hugging, for another two minutes.

It’s getting to the point where she is noticing his cologne, so Nandini decides it is high time to pull herself together; she sits up, wiping at the snot on her face, and pretends her stomach is not in knots. A lopsided roll of toilet paper materializes in front of her nose. Oh – Aditha is holding it. She eyes it like a ticking bomb. It’s a bit squashed, like it was in his pocket. He must have brought it with him, earlier, which means he really did mean to use the bathroom, which means he hadn’t actually sought her out –

Had he? He’s still holding her, sort of, and Nandini is terribly disoriented to realize that it is not an abhorrent sort of feeling, as she has very deliberately imagined it would be in the past, when hosting her more elaborate and vindictive daydreams in which she supposed they might reunite, not because she missed him badly but because she nursed ongoing fantasies of holy vengeance; all of those ended with her dumping a bucket of slop over his head. Instead, she has stopped feeling a decent measure of her earlier anxiety, and is breathing more normally now, and the rapidity of her thoughts have veered away from the breakneck pace of before.

That could just be the crying. Her brother used to say that a tender weeping was good for one’s spirit.

Nandini’s lip wobbles again; she misses Nambi, and is overwhelmed with a trickling feeling of shame – hadn’t she just left him, for so many months, and ignored all his overly-formal emails?

The idea of emails makes her remember she has not sent a mildly threatening missive (subject line: I Know You Know Something About Mandakini Nolastname) from her ghost account to Sundura Chola in a while, and then that makes her think, well, it’s pointless now – her stalwart ally Arnunmozhi won’t have any reason to give her gently reproachful looks re: her long term haunting of his invalid father anymore – she’s found her mother – and then she is re-visited, very strongly, at once, by the dual reality of oh God her mother and oh God, Aditha is holding me.

Fuck, she needs to blow her nose.

“Here,” comes Aditha’s low voice, as though he’s read her mind. Which of course he hasn’t. But still. He tears off a piece of the toilet paper for her. Nandini trembles, and does not know whether she ought to lean in closer, or pull away entirely. She can feel his heartbeat against her shoulder, and while Nandini does not have a lot of experience with the biological sciences, it is beating rather more quickly than the average human heart ought to be.

“Oh,” she says, taking the tissue on autopilot. She dabs at her face, which must surely be smeared in kajol by now, and then her nose, which is probably ugly and red.

Good thing it’s so late at night.

After she’s done, because there doesn’t seem anything better to do – the alternative is getting up and fleeing, and Nandini is not a coward – she turns and stares at him.

Aditha clears his throat and scuffs one foot into the dirt at their feet, but he doesn’t look away. He’s grown a beard. She noticed this first thing last week. He never had one before.

“It’s just,” Nandini says, again on autopilot, “-- my mother.”

Ah, her mother. Poonghuzhali had demonstrated a very rare bout of tearful emotion and Arunmozhi his by now expected kindly friendship; Vandiyadevan had slipped her extra clementines after his grocery run and even Kundavai had been looking at her more gently than usual all afternoon.

Until now, Aditha had been avoiding her. At her words his expression flickers, oddly, a shade of genuine concern colouring his face, before settling into something not quite effortless in its knowing but careful and gentle. She’d forgotten that he could look at her like that. It’s different now, just a little bit. The Look from before was more boyish, and the look now has a kind of sadness to it that makes it feel more real. Maybe it’s the beard. Unease fills her chest again, tenses up her hands. What must he be thinking? Why did he go about all day avoiding her? Alright, so she has also been avoiding him – all week now, to be sure – but – but –

“It must be really strange,” he says suddenly. His voice is deeper than before but not by much. She has not noticed this until right now, because they are sitting so closely and he is speaking quite softly. “Finding – finding someone who is so like you, all of a sudden.”

Whatever was on the verge of backflipping in the pit of Nandini’s stomach sours. Her chin trembles; she looks away. “I suppose.”

“Can’t really prepare for it, I guess.”

She sniffs. “I’ve been looking for months,” she says, more pointedly than perhaps she means. Looking does not equal preparation; the person she was in that Sri Lankan library was not entirely well, let alone prepared. Nandini is woman enough to acknowledge this. To herself, anyway.

“It’s – it’s funny really,” he continues, deliberately gruff again, but not with the awkwardness of before; it’s more sincere now, roughened with honesty, yet in a way that is entirely oblivious to Nandini’s chin wobbles, “I can’t really understand what she’s saying half the time,” he rubs at his knee with one free hand, “but you know what I’ll tell you – I don’t think – well, I’ve never seen anyone with the same sort of sweetness in their face.”

“As what,” croaks Nandini.

He looks at her strangely. Nightlife honks and buzzes past the dorm walls, cocooning them. “As you,” he says, like she is being stupid.

Nandini flushes deep from within. No – he must be lying. Hadn’t he called her a poisonous witch just last week?

She supposes he must have meant that, but she knows Aditha well, and she knows when he is lying, even now – she has come to know, through many a painful altercation (the witch thing, and also she has threatened to kill him a few times) – and she resolves that whatever he meant last week, right now, he is also being honest. She feels somewhat dizzy. The urge to bolt is real. He, too, is looking a bit terrified, like maybe he did not exactly plan to say that in so many words, or maybe he had but now that it is out in the open he’s realizing it sounds a lot more – a lot more – than anticipated.

“Have you really watched my show?” Nandini blurts out, more loudly than she means to.

If Aditha’s eyes were wide already, they widen even further in alarm. This was a tidbit Vandiyadevan gave away two days ago; she thinks Aditha has still not forgiven him. He stammers,

“It was the only thing on TV,” with very little bravado. But then, before Nandini’s chest can deflate, as though shaking himself he says, more resolutely, “well, what was I supposed to do? That one scene of yours went viral on Twitter and the aunties at camp – who know very little about acting, may I add – just repeated what they read, blah blah blah like twittering little quails, but I am an educated person, Nandini, and a role model for children, and I have to investigate my news for myself –”

“Thank you for the tissue,” Nandini interrupts, because if she keeps her mouth occupied, then maybe that will quell its urge to spread into a large smile – maybe even emit a hysteric giggle or two – as if it’s forgotten that she only went into dead-end television acting in the first place because of the Veera Pandiyan scandal –

How much of that was really Aditha’s fault, though?

Nandini’s heart thumps rapidly. Now she’s really being crazy. Think of your mother again, girl. Go back to blubbering or something. Aditha blinks at her a few times. The light is pretty dim (they are lit from behind), but just enough that she can see the flush on his neck and ears. Have they been this close the whole time?

“You – you were shivering when I got here,” he manages, instead of answering. “It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?”

Nandini is not shivering now. In fact, the place where his arm is still held against her back is so warm she thinks she could doze off in contentment just leaned up against him, if not for the fact that her stomach is doing gymnastics beneath the crop of her top. She nods anyway.

“I will be fine.”

“You should wear your jacket,” he says, roughly.

Nandini blinks. “Oh – no, I can’t. That’s yours.”

She isn’t looking for a reaction, per se; the words just sort of come out. She can very well see the bob of his throat, though, and the slight inhale he takes – his chest moves against her shoulder – before he says,

“Come on, Nandu, it was a gift.”

Nandini is overcome by a very strong urge to scream. Or swoon. If she had ever had reasons for wanting to kill him, she’s forgotten them just now. In fact it is very easy to forget the existence of everything around them – her lingering fragility about her mother, or the fact that they are right out in the wide open air, and there’s the real possibility that Kundavai of all bloody people will interrupt them. All these are things entirely immaterial, because unbidden her hand has moved up to press gently against Aditha’s chest, and she can clearly feel the rough pad of his thumb against the bare skin of her back, and they really are sitting so very close – a puff of his breath brushes against her cheek – and her heart goes thump thump thump thump so loudly she can’t really hear anything else.

His eyes have dropped to her mouth. “Nandini, love …” he starts, in a murmured, involuntary whisper.

Nandini tilts her head so very slightly closer …

Bang!

If it is possible for two people to jump a foot apart while still being seated, Nandini and Aditha achieve this. Behind them, in the spilling light of the open bathroom door, lounges the person of Vandiyadevan, who is doing a very bad job at putting on suave and chill airs. Faintly, there is the sound of a toilet flushing behind him.

“No one could have guessed how badly this door sticks, eh?” he says loudly, holding up a roll of paper not unsimilar to Aditha’s. He tries and fails to adjust his footing, stumbling sideways a little into the door frame and then giving them both the finger guns. “Well! Beautiful night. Don’t mind me, carry on!”

“Vandiyadevan,” Aditha’s voice filters into her ears distantly, like it is coming from very far away. “How – long … have you been in there?”

“I was using the facilities! What, can’t a man take a piss after a long day’s honest espionage –? Ayyo! Wait, no, I promise I’m leaving!”

“That’s not the – we weren’t doing anything –!” Nandini hears Aditha splutter out in a strangled yell.

Which is just as well, too, because by the time he has turned back around, she is already gone, bangles clinking as she flees, scrambled away to hide behind the dark corner of the building’s edge, where stands frozen and with her eyes squeezed shut, while her errant, traitorous heart tries its damndest to beat right out of her chest.

#who cares about coherent plot when you can have lovers to enemies to lovers ft Theyre Both Idiots The Whole Run Of The Thing Too #lovenemidiots to lovers. even #ponniyin selvan #aditha karikalan #nandini #aditha x nandini #vandiyadevan #HOPE U LIKE IT MAYA #also in case it wasn’t very clear aditha and nandini have Never Kissed there are no two people on earth who radiate virgin energy more #i came so close to having aditha call nandini Nandi. SO close #the girls who get it get it…

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pynkhues · 8 months

Note

Thanks so much for all your meta posts! I’m a little late to the succession party so apologies if you’ve already answered this but having just finished the show, I’d love to hear your thoughts on how you understand the, for lack of better term, uniquely unsettling nature of the relationship between Kendall and Logan.

To preface, all four kids have unique and interesting relationships with and to Logan and I’m in no way trying to minimize any of the characters trauma. Just, there’s just something about Kendall being told at seven years old that he would inherit it all while at an innocuous small-town ice cream parlor that is upsetting? Almost sinister? I can’t help but think of the season 1 finale and the hug, the closeness that is somehow a combination of comfort, relief, foreboding, control, and possessiveness all wrapped into one gesture. I can’t put my finger on it but there’s just a disquieting undercurrent to some of Logan and Kendall’s interactions.

I’ve been trying to define why I feel that way watching so many of their scenes and I’m having a hard time pinpointing it. Do you have any thoughts? I’ve seen some fans make comparisons to emotion incest or enmeshment (which I think would apply to all the kids to greater or lesser extents) and predatory childhood grooming (which I think has some similarities considering Kendall was “groomed” to take over Waystar but I don’t think a more literal interpretation is really supported by the text) but none of it feels like a perfect fit. Would be super interested to get your take.

You’re very welcome, anon, and I’m so sorry it’s taken so long for me to reply to this! It’s been! A big few weeks in an already very big year, haha (my sister has been in family court for the last nine months, and I'm her +1 / support person, and let me tell you, I now know a lot about the legal system I wish I'd never had to). Your question’s a really interesting one though, and one I’ve thought about a lot, because I agree – I think there is something uniquely unsettling in Kendall and Logan’s relationship, and it is something that’s hard to pinpoint.

After all, like you said, all the kids have unique relationships with Logan, but in many ways, there’s more crossover between their abuse than there isn’t. There’s physical violence, emotional incest and family enmeshment at the core of the Roy family dynamic, and Logan’s capacity to weaponise familial bonds in order to keep them all close to him and fighting with each other is pretty much one of the tenets of the show. Logan might’ve thought of himself as a sun they orbited around, but the reality is he’d never give them that much rope – they were always doomed to be burning their feet on the surface of him.

I also agree with you that grooming’s not necessarily the right term for what’s happening in the family dynamic, because I don’t actually think Logan’s a groomer? I get why people think he is, and he’s absolutely abusive, don’t get me wrong, but grooming implies a serious degree of intent and the formation of a relationship with the purpose of manipulation and abuse, and I just - - don’t think Logan’s brain operates that way? I think he’s much, much more of an enmeshed parent than he is a groomer, because I think Logan loves all of his children in the fullest way that he’s able. He himself was a deeply traumatised child who grew into a horrible and abusive yet still deeply traumatised man, and to position him as only developing these relationships with his children for the purposes of manipulating them is just something I don’t see.

In many ways, it makes it worse, right? Because every decision he makes isn’t one with an end goal for the kids, it’s ongoing and his moments of genuine warmth are only matched by the moments he leaves them in the harshest of colds. Like he promised Shiv Waystar not because he was grooming her but because for a minute, he genuinely wanted her to have it, which makes it a lot harder for Shiv to process than if he was always stringing her along.

This idea of promising a company of that scale to a seven-year-old boy, to me at least, doesn’t just read as unsettling, but as deeply tragic, because to make that sort of promise to a child that young isn’t about Logan’s relationship with Kendall at all, it’s about Logan’s relationship with himself and his past.

Think of it this way – we know that Logan and Caroline didn’t divorce until Shiv was (at least) 11, which means he was making that promise long before they split up, and in the late 80s, probably not long after Waystar had had that expansion into Parks and Cruises.

I think what makes it insidious is not the promise in itself, but the fact that Logan has no concept of the fact that Kendall would and does shape his entire life and identity around the offer. To Logan, it’s probably an earnest thought offered on a sunny afternoon, but it's nakedly borne out of a deep internalised trauma over losing a father he’d never know and inheriting a business from an uncle who’d leave him scars that would last 70 years.

To give it to Kendall is to let him wear that trauma - a trauma he doesn't understand - like a cloak and tell him its a gift.

I'm separating this because I think I'm less confident with it overall as a theory, but I think there is another buried layer here too that Logan potentially saw something in Kendall that was inherently mmm, I don’t know what the word here is actually – vulnerable, I guess? But that’s not necessarily what I mean. My point is more that Logan’s a man who had, at the point of having at least the Golden Trio, all the resources in the world, and while arguably Shiv, Roman, and (to a lesser extent) Connor’s various issues and neuroses can be put down fairly cleanly to Logan’s abuse and neglect, I don’t necessarily think that Kendall’s can.

The show never diagnoses anyone, but I feel it’s pretty implicit on the show that Kendall’s bipolar, which feeds into his addiction issues (people with bipolar are up to 59% more likely than people without bipolar of being diagnosed with substance abuse disorders) and it’s outright stated in the pilot that Logan saw rehab as the ‘nut house’, and that he pulled Kendall out of it after just a day in 2.01, of which the latter is canonical medical negligence. How much medical negligence played into Kendall’s childhood, and how much Logan’s personal history between his sister’s death and his first wife’s nervous breakdown, informed perhaps a need to have a ‘healthy son’ is anyone’s guess, of course, but I think personally that it’s probably a significant factor.

Add to that that Logan does seem particularly protective of Kendall, and that Kendall’s the only one who seems to fully understand Logan’s medications and health (even though Connor’s the one to understand the funeral plans), I think is telling. That maybe there was a genuine (albeit extremely toxic and power imbalanced) shared intimacy around health between them that opened up a space for vulnerability and affection that Logan never understood the weight of, and that Kendall could never let go of.

This is getting into tldr territory now, haha, but yes! I guess I’d say that I agree with you, and I think what makes the relationship between Logan and Kendall particularly biting is Logan’s simultaneous dependence and thoughtlessness. He leans heavy and hard, but loathes the signs of splintering, and I think he feels he does Kendall a kindness by pretending not to see it a lot of the time. Pair that with Logan having not dealt with his own abuse and instead projecting all the ways he’s Not Noah onto his child, I think it’s overall just a mess of a traumatised person not recognising their own trauma and dropping the weight and expectations of all of that onto their seven year old son at an ice cream parlour and never growing enough to know what they did is fucked.

#i've said it on here before but i think there's a very significant tendency on here to see logan just as the abuser #and not as a part of the cycle of abuse #his undealt with trauma is really the foundation for everything that came after it #and i think the way the show depicts logan as specifically not able to look directly at the past is just - -#SO interesting #but yes logan and kendall's relationship is just really really fascinating #kendall roy #logan roy #kendall + logan #hbo succession #succession meta #welcome to my ama

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obxsummer · 2 years

Text

Holding On // Ghost of You

summary: relationships are being tested all around, limbrey's a witch, and an explosion has jj wondering if the routledge siblings will ever be the same again

warnings: you know what happens to ward, cursing, sadness, ya know the usual angst

a/n: idk how i feel about this chapter but here ya go

navigation -- series masterlist

“So, Sarah just dips and doesn’t call?”

John B, as much as you loved him, was a dumbass. In his defense, he did just get out of prison and you had no doubt that there was a lot on his mind, but sometimes you wanted to slap him. Clearly, his girlfriend wouldn’t have an idea that he was back and evidently, he couldn’t think far enough ahead to consider that.

“Yeah, man. She just left her bag. Didn’t tell anybody.”

“I-I really think Ward got to her. I mean, the dude tried to have me killed in jail.” As your friends flipped toward him in concern, a chill ran down your spine. “He sent somebody to the prison who yoked me up and almost killed me.”

“You serious?”

“Yes! Do you see these bruises? I didn’t get them from a massage, Kie!”

“Do we know who this dude was?”

“What? No!”

“Enough!” The word was enough to snap them out of their conversation, all eyes coming towards your direction where you hid behind your sunglasses. “He’s not lying. Ward told me it was coming a week ago, before the court session. I don’t know who it is, but obviously he paid someone. Either way, it doesn’t matter now. You’re home, that’s the biggest hitch in his plan, okay? So, it’s fine for now.”

John B sent you a death glare as he plopped onto the HMS Pogue across from Kie. “No, Y/N, it’s not fine. We gotta find Sarah.”

“No, literally,” You repeated smugly as you pointed past his shoulder towards the approaching boat. “She’s right there.”

John B turned around to see Topper’s Malibu gliding through the water with the Kook himself accompanied by none other than Sarah Cameron. She didn’t hesitate to shout your brother’s name, relief overwhelming her features as she stood up from her seat.

“What the hell is she doing with Topper?” Kie’s distaste was hard to miss as she glanced over her shoulder to look at you, JJ, and Pope. You could only shrug in response. Topper was the one Kook who didn’t make you want to throw hands. Sure, he could be annoying and privileged, but he meant well at the end of the day.

“Sarah, they’re coming after Rafe.”

“Good, he’s completely unhinged.” Her comment made you laugh sharply. It’s almost like you’d been saying that for a while now. “He jumped me last night.”

Now that, you weren’t expecting. Ward had the biggest soft spot for Sarah, so you assumed that followed for Rafe too considering he was a daddy’s boy. Clearly, the eldest Cameron child had gone beyond that, especially when he shot her in the hip not too long ago.

“Yeah, man, Rafe’s lost his mind. Literally almost drowned his own sister,” Topper added, “Thankfully I got there just in time.”

The awkward tension made you want to gag in disgust and based on JJ’s face, he felt the same way. The blond boy gave you a small wink as he rested his hand on your ankle, rough fingers brushing over your skin. You shifted towards him quietly, flipping around so you could rest your head against his thigh. The sun was warm against the thin long-sleeve shirt you had tugged from JJ’s drawer this morning, but you weren’t complaining.

You closed your eyes and tuned out the uncomfortable conversation between your brother and his girlfriend, instead opting to listen to the small waves and seagulls up above. You had yet to let your body relax from the GoGoGo it had been experiencing for so long but you hoped you’d be able to adjust soon.

“Hi, babe.” The yellow light from the sun disappeared from your closed eyelids before you blinked directly into JJ’s gaze. A small smile formed on your lips as you reached up and gently smacked his face away.

“Don’t babe me,” You joked as you pulled your sunglasses back down and closed your eyes again in favor of the quiet peacefulness. “Where’d everyone go?” Your voice dropped to a murmur as JJ’s fingers ghosted over your warm skin.

“Chateau,” He answered simply. “Lovers quarrels on all ends but you and me, sunshine.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and pulled your legs to your chest as you faced him. “Oh, is that what we are? Lovers?” You’d never seen JJ so clammed up except in that moment which sent you spiraling into laughter. “Holy shit, you’re blushing so hard.”

“Stop it, dude!” He shoved at you jokingly and ran a hand through his hair. “So not cool, fuck.”

You gaped at him. “Did you just call me dude?”

“Yeah. Dude.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Leaping forward, your hands grabbed his worn flannel and pushed him back against the wooden dock. Your thighs resting against his, your weight barely supported by your own muscles as you pressed your palms against his chest. “Call me dude one more time, Maybank, and it’s over.”

“Alright, alright!” He raised his hands in mock surrender before you climbed off of him to start up towards the house. “Dude!” With the last word seemingly in his pocket, he took off up the wooden walkway, leaving you behind with an open mouth.

Life wasn’t slowing down anytime soon, and the second JJ left your side to answer Pope’s phone, it was chaos all over again. The adrenaline rush didn’t stop until your hands were ripping open bandages and gently placing them on Mr. Heyward’s broken skin.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Your voice was quiet as you slowly pressed the adhesive band-aid into place on his forehead.

“You’re doing just fine,” Heyward responded before you stepped back. “Thank you, darlin’.”

Pope’s face was instantly in front of his father’s the second you pulled away. “Pop, what happened?”

Mr. Heyward gave a quick rendition of the altercation, which, unsurprisingly, was about the key that had mysteriously become a heavily wanted item. You weren’t focusing on his conversation very much though, and instead turned to where your brother was pouting on the bench next to you.

“Hi,” You quietly whispered as you moved closer to him. “You okay?”

His nervous leg tapping didn’t stop as he sat up straighter. “No. Not really?” It took one look for you to see the tension in his muscles and the stress on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

John B sniffled slightly, quickly brushing his eyes to wipe small tears. “Nothing. Not here, please.” You muttered a small agreement, letting your brother tuck himself into your side without question. Your heart broke for him. It was unbelievable that Ward Cameron had managed to take down the entire Routledge family, one after the other, in a small amount of time. You wanted to fix it - you wanted to fix everything that had gone wrong.

After your conversation with Pope’s dad sentenced you to another adventure to see his grandma, you found yourself buckled in the passenger seat of the Twinkie. John B had practically shoved you into the seat, clearly wanting to be left alone for the ride which he knew you would comply with. You pushed your feet onto the dash and kicked the seat back as the tree shadows danced along your vision while your brother drove to who-knows-where.

JJ’s fingers slipped beneath your right tank top strap as he sat behind you, fingers gentle as they danced across your skin. One thing you had noticed since you came back was the constant physical attention. JJ always had physical contact, one way or another. You wondered if something truly shifted between the two of you or if maybe, this was just new and you would grow used to it. Not that you were complaining either way.

“Guys, the thing that Limbrey said, I don’t think she meant to let it slip. She said the key leads to the Cross of Santo Domingo.”

“Wait, can I see that?” JJ interrupted Pope’s explanation as he reached across to pull the heavy key from his friend.

“Are we supposed to know what that is?” You didn’t miss John B’s eyes constantly flickering to the backseat where Sarah was sitting. Your brother got jealous easily, but honestly, so did you. It’s hard to worry about your place in someone’s life, and you didn’t doubt that he was questioning his own spot in Sarah’s right now after the escapade with Topper.

“I’m guessing it’s some sort of historical artifact of great importance,” Pope offered.

You tuned them out again, your brain not having the mental capacity to keep up with the wandering conversation each time. John B’s fingers suddenly pushed against your knee with force as the van came to a stop. “Get your shoes off my dash.” His comment was somewhat quiet but you heard him loud and clear.

“It’s my dash too, you asshat.” You mumbled but did what he asked before JJ was pulling your door open.

“Hey, uh, actually I think I’m gonna do this one by myself,” Pope spoke up before the whole group piled out of the car. It made sense, it was his relative you were coming to see and there was no need to overwhelm her.

“Are you sure?” Kie asked as you swung your legs into the doorframe, ready to follow if he asked. “We don’t mind.”

“Yeah, I can handle it. I don’t really need you… so,” Pope awkwardly trailed off but you could tell the sentence was meant to sting.

JJ huffed at the still beefing couple, “Oh, we’re just all one big happy family today, aren’t we?” His sarcasm wasn’t missed as Pope walked towards the building and everyone took note to pile back in the van.

“Well, now where do we go?” You groaned in boredom as you put your feet back up on the dash, pulling the door closed as you did so.

“There’s a little strip of shops around the corner?” Kie offered as she sprawled across the bench in the back. “Kill some time there.”

JJ and John B opted to stay and hang out in the van while you, Sarah, and Kie took the time to browse and get some fresh air. The small convenience store you walked into was bubbling with customers. You quickly separated from the girls, opting to grab a can of Pringles to snack on before meeting them at the fountain soda machine.

“I just don’t understand why he’s mad at me for it,” Sarah’s conversation continued as you inserted yourself. “I mean, it’s not like I was any less excited that he was home when I saw him. It just felt awkward to be like ‘Oh hey, thanks for saving my life but by the way, I’m kind of married but not really to my boyfriend’.”

“Tell me about it,” Kie scoffed as you paid for your items and walked back outside. “All of this crazy shit’s happening and Pope’s giving me the silent treatment for not being in love with him.”

Sarah gave her a smile as she twisted her straw around in the cup. “And we’re the dramatic ones.”

“Speaking of dramatic, what’s going on with you and JJ?” Kie turned the conversation towards you, much to your distaste.

You gave them a small shrug. “Nothing official. We’re just taking it day by day. I mean, I love him and he’s my best friend, so I’m not sure what will happen from here. There’s still a lot I have to figure out for myself, so we’ll see.”

The three of you piled back into the van, this time with JJ in the passenger seat with you lingering behind him. The drive back to Pope’s grandma’s was quiet with the sound of the radio playing lightly in the background. The boy in question was quick to throw the door open and plop in his seat before John B broke the silence and asked how it went.

Pope’s reply was short and simple but left you questioning everything that happened so far. “Shit just got way more personal.”

The entire drive back to Heyward’s dock was filled with the explanation that Denmark Tanny was a relative of Pope’s. The journey you all had been on suddenly became so real and if anything, it drove you to want to succeed even more.

“I can’t believe you’re related to Denmark Tanny,” John B said as you pulled yourself up onto the wooden railing to sit. “Are we in the presence of a royal?”

“A king?” JJ played along as both of them stared at Pope with wide eyes before switching to a high pitched accent, “We shall crown him! All hail the lord of Tannyhill! We are not worthy!”

Pope rolled his eyes but couldn’t help and smile at the antics. “Everybody relax, can we relax please?”

Sarah took a sip of her beer before raising her hand like a student in class “Relocate to Cat’s Ass, question mark?”

You raised your drink in agreement. “I’m down with that!”

“How soon can we move in?” Sarah continued to play along, this time teasingly towards you and John B.

“Cause I don’t have a place to stay.” JJ jumped in with her, the two of them going back and forth.

“Me either, bunk beds?”

“Bunk beds. Cheers to that!”

You shook your head slightly as Pope cut them off to talk about the letter Limbrey sent him. JJ, calming down from his antics, came to stand between your legs and let your arms rest along his shoulders. He wouldn’t say it, but after losing you to Ward, again, he hated the thought of you leaving his grasp. The comfort and relief he found in the simplest of touches with you calmed his racing nerves and he could finally feel at peace for once. He was scared - scared that one day he would reach and you would be gone and he didn’t know what he would do. JJ loved you, it took him a while to come to terms with it in the chaos of life recently, but he loved you. He just needed to tell you.

“Listen guys. I keep thinking about the letter Limbrey sent. It had the wheat symbol on it. That must mean it has something to do with the Royal Merchant,” Pope explained as he paced back and forth. “If we find that cross, then we can split it like we were gonna split the gold.”

“And live happily ever after?”

The new voice coming from behind made you jump in your spot, JJ’s hands instantly going to your knees as he turned with you to see an older woman approaching with a man by her side. John B was suddenly tense and with the way your friends reacted, you were able to conclude that this was the Limbrey woman Pope kept talking about.

Pope’s expression dropped as he slowly stepped towards her. “You assaulted my father.” He was quickly pushed back by Limbrey’s bodyguard looking dude.

“Oh, I didn’t assault anybody,” The woman claimed.

Kie crossed her arms, completely unamused by the situation in front of her. “He can identify the psycho from a mile away,” She countered.

“Why would my employee assault your father? That’s absurd,” Limbrey brushed off with a fake laugh. “Listen. We can keep on negotiating, but the fact is that I want the key. Until I have it, I don’t have a choice, which means you don’t either.”

Your brother shifted to the left of you, leaning against the railing you were seated on as he held the golden key in discussion up in the air. You could see the smirk itching to form on his face which made you wonder what he was up to. “It’s Limbrey, right? Is that right?” When he got the confirmation he was looking for, the woman’s attention was on him instantly as she stared at the object in his hand. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Like a stray dog looking for food, she practically begged, “Yes, it is.”

“Looking at the tide right now, I’d say it’s about 20 feet deep out there. So if I just threw it in the channel, the probability of you finding it again is slim to none. Wanna give it a shot?” Without waiting for a response, John B faked a throw, earning screams of protest.

With a look of distaste towards your brother, she let out a sigh of relief when she noticed he didn’t throw it. “Please don’t do that.”

John B wasn’t phased by it and instead, motioned to the guy who was keeping Pope pinned against the wall. “Get him to back the hell up.”

Limbrey quickly agreed and told her partner to move before she walked closer to Pope. “As I have told you from the beginning, I am willing to be reasonable.”

Pope’s eyes moved across the three of you until John B gave him a slight nod. “Okay,” He agreed, which confused Limbrey more. “I’ll give you the key, but I want the tape.”

John B moved from your left to approach him, continuing to milk their plan. “Pope, hey, hey, hey, hey. You don’t have to do this, okay?”

“No, it’s okay,” You could tell Pope had picked up on the missing pieces and was rolling with it. “It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s about your dad. That’s way more important.” He held his palm out for your brother to place the key in it before facing Limbrey. “The tape.”

“Yes, give him the tape.” The two items were exchanged simultaneously as the woman let out a sigh of relief, “You know, I wish that you’d come to this decision earlier. We could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.”

You groaned as she began to hobble away. “Never come back, Wicked Bitch of the West!” You called after her, including a middle finger for fun as JJ held back laughter in front of you.

“How long do we think we have until she realizes she has your father’s old key?” The boy in your grasp turned to your sibling with a smirk.

“10 minutes,” John B responded without a beat.

Pope turned around in shock. “Whose idea was the fake key?”

“Shockingly, not mine,” Kie shrugged with a slight smile on her face.

John B hummed for a second, his arm resting against yours across JJ’s shoulders as he tugged him closer in acknowledgement to pat his chest. “Hmm, I don’t know. Should we tell him?”

“Wow,” You laughed from your spot and ran your fingers through his hair so he’d look up at you. “I’m impressed.”

“Did hell freeze over?”

“I’m actually in shock.”

“Who knew JJ could actually be good for something.”

The smile didn’t leave anyone’s face, especially when John B brought up bringing the tape to Shoupe. You could see a flicker of emotion in Sarah’s expression but couldn’t bring yourself to think on it too much as you let JJ pull you along in excitement.

While JJ, John B, Kie, and Pope were buzzing with the news of Ward’s demise, you couldn’t pull your eyes from Sarah’s sulking form. You were thrilled to see the downfall of two people you despised, knowing full well Rafe and Ward deserved what was coming. Still, your heart hurt for the girl in front of you, knowing you’d be a mess if it were your dad and John B in that position. Hell, listening to the rumors about your brother was enough to spiral, let alone watching it all be true.

Getting up from your spot on the counter, you came to sit on the outdoor couch with Kie and Sarah. “Do you regret it?” Kie asked, sensing the negative reaction soon to come from the girl next to her.

“No,” Sarah shook her head slightly but it didn’t help the frown on her face. “He deserves all of it, and I know that.”

“But he’s still your dad,” You added as you swirled the can of beer in your hand. “I get it. I’m sure it sucks to be in the middle.”

You caught a glance at Sarah’s phone screen as it started to ring. Topper’s face was on the screen, his name in big white letters shining back before she excused herself to take the call. You could tell the convo wasn’t going as well as she wanted and quickly got to your feet.

“Hey,” You hissed as you stepped into the kitchen, silencing the boys and their antics. “The warrant’s out. Based on the convo she’s having, they’re probably on their way.” A series of cheers followed your statement and you quickly looked over your shoulder to see Sarah staring. Mouthing an apology, you turned back to the boys and smack JJ lightly on the back of his head. “Seriously? Calm down. And comfort your fucking girlfriend, JB.”

You turned sharply on your heel, John B huffing out a disagreement before the three of them were up and heading outside. Grabbing Kie and Sarah on your way, you all piled into the van with the star couple up front. Pinned between JJ’s legs as you sat on the floor, the elevated adrenaline was not helping the panic in your system. As much as you wanted justice for Ward, you hated that Sarah was caught in the crossfire.

“Babe,” JJ’s voice was soft as he reached down to offer you his hands to let you hold them tightly and relieve pressure. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be fine.” As soon as his statement finished, the sound of police sirens drowned out your reply as you saw four cop cars speed past.

“Oh my God. Can you please hurry? I need to be there for Wheezie.” Sarah watched them move anxiously, her eyes scanning the road rapidly.

“You think I wanna miss this?” John B countered. You didn’t have the energy to scold him for his shitty attitude, instead focusing on your balance as he took a corner sharply to catch up. The brakes squealed when John B finally came to a stop and everyone rushed to pile out. The concrete wall that surrounded the Cameron Estate blocked your path.

Pushing up to your tiptoes, you struggled to see over the barrier before you got annoyed by all the pushing and shoving. “Screw it, I’m going over.” With a huff, you pushed your strength into your arms and hauled yourself over the wall to the grass on the other side. John B and Pope hopped over right away, JJ staying to assist Kie and Sarah before you all took off towards the dock.

As John B took the lead, you reached back to grab Sarah’s hand. If your brother wasn’t going to be the bigger person, you were always the one picking up the slack. Sure, Sarah’s family had ruined you, but it wasn’t her fault, and you weren’t going to let her sit through the pain that you did of wondering what you would say to your dad before he was gone.

She let you guard her for a second before breaking away when she saw her sister. The comfort didn’t last though before she was shifting to head down the dock where the Druthers was out on the water. The police lined the wooden surface as they tried to talk Ward down from his scheme, but nothing really mattered until Sarah called out for him.

“What are you doing here, Sarah?” Ward’s voice was harsh as he yelled across the water. You maneuvered through the officers surrounding you until you were front and center to the scene ahead. “Vic! You gotta get her out of here! She can’t be here right now!”

Shoupe wasn’t listening to the plea, “Just come on in, and you…you can talk to her!”

Your chest felt tight as you watched Ward lean against the railing in desperation. “Sarah, I’m so sorry, baby! I can’t!”

The crank of the anchor being pulled up was louder than you expected as other police boats arrived on the scene. Ward was quick to climb down the ladder and disappear into the cab of the boat as Sarah yelled in protest. The moment of anticipation hung in the air like a still thread before everything shattered with an explosion.

The dock rocked beneath your feet as you stumbled, hand reaching out to JJ for help before the heat of the fire was on your face. Debris flew everywhere as you ducked down in shock and realized the scene in front of you. He was gone. Dead. Never returning.

Sarah’s cries were ringing in your ears as you sunk to the ground, mouth open with the realization that Ward Cameron destroyed his boat, his family, and his life all in one quick moment. Tears burned your eyes but you refused to look away until JJ was pulling you to your feet to leave the scene behind. More cops piled in after you, the echo of a firetruck somewhere in the distance as you rushed up towards the van. You couldn’t fathom the feelings Sarah was going through, but a part of you was finally relieved. Ward Cameron got what he deserved.

“Hi.”

The simple greeting had you glancing up from your spot in the hammock to see JJ shuffling towards you. His Kildare Surfing Co. zip-up faded in the glow of the sunset but regardless, he was angelic in your eyes. You pulled the sleeves of your thin sweater over your palms and forced a small smile. You’d been quiet most of the day, the weight of what had happened a day ago heavy on your mind

“Hi.” A small sniffle left your body as he climbed in across from you, his hand instantly going to your bare shin to comfort you in a way that only he could.

JJ didn’t know what to do. He hated seeing you this way - so sunken in and upset. You shut down a lot easier than you used to, but that’s the price of trauma. “Are you okay?” The question was so silly, he felt like, but he needed some kind of response.

You forced a small nod, knowing he could see through you without effort. “I will be.” Your gaze drifted to the dock where your brother was sitting across from Sarah, the two of them conversing. “I wish I could fix it,” You admitted. “I hate for people I love to… to be in pain. It hurts me. I don’t like it, J.” Brushing over your nose with your sleeve, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes again. “I feel horrible for her and what she’s dealing with.”

“I know, I know. But baby, you can’t fix it. As much as you want it all to go away, it’s up to the universe right now. You can’t put this on yourself.” JJ’s hand was warm on your skin, preventing you from curling into the ball he knew you would do.

“They don’t deserve this.”

“And you don’t deserve to have the weight of everyone else’s pain on your shoulders.” You snapped your gaze back to him in shock that he had even said it. “I’m serious, don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right.”

You let out a small huff and flopped back fully against the netting on your back. You loved all the Pogues with your entire heart, but John B was your brother. He was always going to be your best friend, and as much as he pissed you off at times, you would be his biggest annoyance and his greatest supporter. Knowing he was struggling without Sarah made you sad, and even though JJ was right, you would crumble for any of them if it meant the slightest bit of relief.

“You cannot keep doing this, Y/N. Seriously.” When JJ finally got your eyes back on his, he could finally see how tired you were. You kept this family together on your own much more than you should, and holy shit, someone had to help you. He could only do his best, but they all needed to look out for each other a little more. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart.”

The nickname shattered your resolve and you finally caved into his touch, crawling across the hammock as best as possible to collapse onto his chest in a puddle of tears. “I’m sorry.” He was right. He was so right in many ways but you hated admitting you needed help.

“Don’t you ever apologize, not to me,” He responded quietly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. His hand splayed across your back in comfort. JJ just wanted to hold you the way you had held all of them for so many years. He was beginning to realize how fragile everything could be if you let it wither down and he refused to let you even come close to breaking in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, you remained in his embrace and willed yourself to stop crying. The shit your group was going through was unimaginable and you feared how long you could keep going before someone got seriously hurt.

Your train of thought was interrupted as Sarah’s form began walking up the dock, leaving John B alone. Taking one glance at the blonde girl, you could tell their conversation was anything but happy. JJ already knew your next move and planted his foot on the ground to stabilize the hammock before you were out of his arms, rushing towards your brother.

Conversing slipping on the worn wood, John B lost it the second you collided with his side. His chest heaved with sobs as the two of you slid to the floor in a puddle of tears. His life felt like it was crumbling apart with one thing after another.

“It’s okay,” You mumbled as you gripped his t-shirt tightly in your fingers, terrified that if you let go for a second he would disappear. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You could barely believe your own words at this point, but you had to try for him, for everyone, for yourself. JJ didn’t hesitate to pile himself between the two of you with the knowledge that the three of you only had each other to lean on at the end of the day.

The blond boy held tightly to both of you, his own chest in pain at the thought of the two strongest people he’d known his whole life unable to keep it together. JJ just hoped he could manage to keep everything together and get you back on your feet before something else tried to tear your group apart.

navigation

tags: @strawberryfolks @jinxfirebolt18902 @lnnlove @itsmytimetoodream @dazzlingnights

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murdererofthumbs · 1 year

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So today’s episode was a wild emotional rollercoaster for Roman girlies. I honestly think that in order for me to comprehend every episode I need to watch it twice, because first watch is always an over-anxious mess, when I just want to find out what happens, and then I can actually start thinking properly when stress levels are down to normal.

But I do have some thoughts based on both the episode and what people have been saying so far:

1) First, I knew since previous episode that although Kendall was full of shit when he said he will include Shiv in everything, Roman was absolutely serious about that. And he proved it! Literally tried to run every decision by her (and that makes me so happy, because he just wants his siblings to be together and work together and be a fucking family). But on the other hand… We are all aware that Shiv will not take that under consideration, right? As far as she is aware, her brothers fucked her over with their CEO-COO positions and that is enough for her to get vindictive and look for blood. So even though I’m happy that Roman remained true to his word, I also think that Shiv will stab him in the back anyway. Because she IS the most similar to Logan (don’t come at me, I love Shiv, but these are just the facts - if push comes to shove she will leak the whole Gerri-Roman dick incident and bury her brother if it means asserting her position).

2) I think it’s becoming more and more clear that Roman is heading towards some pretty dark place (I don’t think he will be able to hold his delusions for much longer, he is falling apart at the seams and there doesn’t seem to be anything that could fill out the gaping holes inside of him). The fact that each episode of Succession is supposed to be, what, one-two days (it has to be two days in this episode at least), means that since Logan’s death none of them had any breather from the grief and pain that this loss has caused them. But unlike Kendall and Shiv who both in their own ways acknowledged Logan’s passing and made semi (and I mean very semi)-peace with it, Roman is not even near that stage. He is still very much glorifying his dad (that trauma bond is holding very strong in there), and I feel like he might also not be sleeping. You know, sleep? The time when your subconscious mind roams free and brings all your possibly repressed thoughts on the forefront of your mind? Yeah, my bet is on pretty strong sleep deprivation here. Add some extremely palpable anxiety and trying to keep everything together and you have a nice ticking bomb ready to implode at any given moment (and he kinda did implode there with Matsson but it was still very much coated in delusions and projections of his own guilt).

Also - the pills. I know some girlies last week were like “oh guys chill, it’s just advil”, but having them flashed two episodes in the row? Nah, Succession writers don’t seem like the type to provide insignificant shots, and in combination with his nervous exterior, Roman taking some sort of pills makes perfect sense. I don’t know where this will lead to, but I’m trying not to be overwhelmed by negative thoughts (you guys really need to stop with Roman-suicide predictions, just…don’t).

3) Last thing is that as far as we are aware, Roman still doesn’t know that Kendall was the one behind leaking negative stuff about Logan to the media. I feel like they didn’t even get to the good (bad) stuff yet. And can you imagine what will happen then, considering how fucking unstable Roman was in this episode (without all that bullshit adding to his mental state)? Yeah, I don’t wang to imagine, but it will be really fucking bad. My prediction and that might be a stretch, but for some reason I feel like it will all culminate during Logan’s funeral (which I assume will be one of the episodes, considering Connor’s phone call and him sending Roman pics of their dead dad (!!!)). Both the shit about Logan and Roman’s downfall will probably come crushing down at the most difficult moment, where he will actually have to acknowledge that Logan is not only dead, but also very much a piece of shit and abuser.

Anywho, this show is a slaughterhouse and I both love it (derogatory) and hate it (affectionate).

#roman roy #succession #succession hbo #i have both overwhelming amount of thoughts about this episode #but also no thoughts at all #I didn’t even have the mental capacity to get jnto other characters yet #but I am Roman girlie first and foremost and he was a mess this episode so I need to spotlight him first #others will have to wait hntil I gather all my brain cells #kendall roy #shiv roy #connor roy #succession spoilers #succession 04x05

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airbrushfather · 5 months

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@paz-45 asked so here are my 5 ee tattoos lmao (warning for me just rambling absolute shit under the cut)

my first ever tattoo - jon's handwriting and a wild wave because i love violent sun so much. looking back the handwriting tattoo isn't something i'd do today but it's what got me started on getting tats at all and i had a very positive experience (both w getting it and w asking jon for the writing lmao)

the teeth are not related, for the record. writing is about 6 months healed in this pic and almost 18 months healed now. also i know no one asked but since i love talking about tattoos - this is on the outside of my forearm and the pain was about a 3/10. super easy placement if you want somewhere to put a first tattoo that won't kill you off immediately.

classic lil gth hand. i always forget i have this because it's on the back of my arm (hence the bad photo too, say hello to my ear) but i do rlly love it, my artist did a very good job. it's about 5 months healed in this pic and just under 18 months healed now. this is on the back of my upper arm, the pain was probably a 4/10. a little spicy towards the inside but nowhere near the worst, certainly less painful than the inside of the bicep for instance. i also never find colour that bad (lines are worse imo) but i know some people do, so i guess if you came to this post looking for genuine tattoo advice, take that into consideration

these eyes are, technically, ee related - and please excuse this horrible photo, they're really hard to get a pic of! but me and my artist designed them together based on put me together's bridge - 'is it the darkest night/or is that dawn in your eyes?' it's a very important song to me and i love these tattoos, especially the dawn one with all the little details. it actually looks a little better now it's healed, it's settled into itself a lot more. they're super fresh in this pic (less than a month each, i got them within about a week of each other) and about a year healed now

pain wise this is a rough placement. the bottom one especially was one of my most painful tattoos - probably an 8/10. it proved i could never tattoo my actual knee because i genuinely had a terrible time of it. though weirdly the top one was really easy, probably a 6/10

i find this one incredibly hard to photograph bc of the way it wraps but my favourite line from final form (i stole the idea from someone in atb but it's one of my favourite sentiments, as in, this is my first body so i will make mistakes, and it is my last body so i will look after it). i broke one of my only tattoo rules for this too, which was No Words. i doubt i'll get any more words after this bc i don't think they'd really fit very well w the rest of mine, but i thought this was a really nice way to cuff my patchwork arm.

it's about 6 months healed in this video (from today). pain was probably another 8/10, wrist is a very spicy placement but not the worst one by any stretch. the outside (first body) was easier than the inside (last body) and it was definitely tolerable, tbh it was almost more annoying to heal than it was to get

i do have plans for more ee related tattoos (i want to get one from each album, so i have arc and rdf left to conquer) but atm i can't get anything because i have serious trust issies w new tattooists (and i love my artists who i know already) and my shop is currently 200 miles away. i'll probably get one in summertime if i have the money. i really like that for the most part they're not super obvious what they are, even the hand isn't bam in your face this is album artwork unless you're in the know. no hate to those kind of tattoos (ive seen some sick tattoos of the whole gth cover or at least the entire guy) it's just not my kind of thing, i like to be mysterious.

sorry for talking so much, but getting tattoos is my only personality trait. i could and would literally speak about it all day. consider this your formal piece of danny's tattoo advice. none of these are my most painful placements and none were my most painful tattoos, but everybody is different so if you genuinely do want this advice, take it with a grain of salt. and if anyone wants more of my advice/further tattoo tours, feel free to ask (idk why you'd want advice from me but i have probably about 40 tattoos at this point and i want to talk about it. because i'm boring and inufferable. i'm A Tattoo Person. this is my coming out </3)

cheers for looking x

#sorry this is so much talking #i love to yap #i think the tattooing process is a minor special interest for me and it makes me very happy to talk about my own stuff #so i am always happy to answer questions/give advice re placements/healing/etc if people want it #i am rather informed all things considered #that sounded pretentious im so sorry

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thesoleilla · 2 years

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Working for a sugar-addict|A Coffee shop themed Ranpo x gn!Reader Multi-chapter fanfic

No warnings, just fluff with a bit of angst at times Chapter 0 (prologue ig) : Unemployed

Aaand the last one rejected you as well.

This was the last cooking school that didn't reject you in all of Japan but I guess it didn't want to make an exception, after all your ability probably seemed like such a big threat to them that they didn't even want to try and read your appliance, just the sight of your name was enough to make them throw your appliance into the "declined-and-we-don't-even-care-enough-to-reply" category.

Why was that?

Well you did get enrolled on the first try but got expelled when the word about your ability spread around

"Did you know about Y/N?"

"Yea, I think they can basically cook anything just with their ability, they really don't deserve to be here"

"Oh I didn't think their ability was that strong! God if they don't expell Y/N then our diploma won't mean anything because we'll be in the same ranks as them!"

Yup the rumors tended to spiral pretty quickly there because soon after that you got expelled and none of the other schools wanted to enroll you. But your ability wasn't even that strong actually, you could just see how and with what the food you tasted was made! It was not like recreating it was given to you! You just saw it! It was literally nothing more than that! Eugh why couldn't they just understand... yea these fools almost made you want to stop cooking. Your gift was starting to look more like a curse than a blessing in your eyes.

Well, it started being like that ever since you were born so it's more like it was ending actually... no it wasn't even nearing its end at all.

But anyways you were giving up on actually getting a diploma so you used the little amount of money you had left to rent a small apartment in Yokohama, just hoping to randomly find a job because you were desperate and it couldn't be that hard right?

Well, you were wrong. Because you spent a whole week just searching the whole city for a job every day and ending up crying about it at the Café near your place, wanting to give up on having a job and money to live... which is a very stable life if you ask me.

But your life was about to become way less stable just because of a single offer.

A job offer.

And it was from the one place you didn't even consider applying to, after all the job would require cooking! They'd throw you out as soon as they learned about your ability! Plus, you didn't have any diploma; even worse yet you failed at getting one!

But the Café Uzumaki wanted to have you try and apply for a job there, so why not? Besides, the atmosphere there was nice and the workers seemed nice too soo... okay you thought working there would be a total delight and were just scared of not being taken and then becoming reallyyy embarassed, too much to even go back there!

However, the owner asked you to try with such a serious look... that you decided to try. Just this once. One last time! Except, you didn't want to tell him about your ability.. Just imagining it made you feel dizzy!

Yet did you really have to tell him... after all why was that information important! He'll show you the recipes anyways so... no you weren't trying to find excuses... not at all! This was just rational thinking! Hm hm!

"So, Y/N are you taking my offer?" He said, making you come back to reality.

"Of course! I'd love to try" you answered, excitement filling your voice at the thought of working here, this could be great!

So he took you to the kitchen and explained how to do one of the recipes for you to try but you.. didn't really listen since your brain decided you'd rely on your ability for this... ugh you didn't want to have to use your power yet here you were just because your brain went dumb.Well that wasn't a very good start!

You finally made the recipe and, lets just say he was happy with it; actually he even looked rather impressed, however what he said and the look he gave you afterwards was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"Y/N, don't you have something to share with me? Like for example... an ability?"

Uh oh... well you definetely couldn't hide it

"I... I do I can see how anything I taste was made. But thats it! It's not anything more than that I promise!"

"I'll give you a one-week trial. Do your best. You'll start tomorrow with the opening shift at 5 but be there at least 30 minutes early."

You were almost crying tears of joy. This was it. You had a job. For at least a whole week.

"I'll be there sir!" You said, running out of the café.

And that's when everything started going downhill.

Next chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thesoleilla/691967290079657984?source=share

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #ranpo x you #ranpo x y/n #ranpo fluff #ranpo edogawa #bsd rampo #bsd edogawa rampo #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd fic #bsd multi-chapter #multi-chapter #coffee shop #ranpo x gn!reader #gn reader

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morganlefaye79 · 2 years

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OC Interview Questions

I saw this I think it was yesterday on @smilepal blog for their oc Hiro Oda and I thought this to be a good idea for Vicco. Maybe I will do it also for Valaire.

I did this already last year but for 2 of my DA oc's and I had much fun.

A word of advice though: Vicco is a joytoy, so you can expect some answers being very sexual oriented. So if you don't want that, this interview is unfortunately not for you. I tagged this with nsft for this reason!

Vicco is smug, nonchalant and has a loose tongue, and doesn't take many things serious. He lies also when he feels the need to do so, so take his answers with a grain of salt.

Your name is?

Vicco, the rest is none of your business.

Are you single?

I am, and in my line of work it’s better that way.

Are you happy?

No, and truth be told, that’s hella long ago. When my son was born was the last time I was genuinly happy.

But I get by somehow.

Are you angry?

Yes, a lot. Mostly at myself. Because everything that’s wrong in my life was caused by myself, although I sometimes try to blame others. I know exactly who destroyed my life.

Are your parents still married?

Fuck if I know! Fucking hell I don’t even know if they still live or where they went. Actually, I don’t care either.

=NINE FACTS=

Birth place?

What the hell are those questions? I don’t fucking know!

Hair color?

Pink, normally dark brown.

Eye color?

I wear optics, but I kept them in my natural brown eyecolour.

Birthday?

I don’t know, no one knows who I am or where I came from, so no birthday either. My ex always celebrated my birthday with his together, it was kind of cute and nice of him but I stopped doing it when we broke up.

Mood?

I don’t know, I’m not allowed to have “moods”. I have to smile, always and everywhere I go with whoever I’m with. My clients tell me which mood they want me to have.

Gender?

I’m a male. I try to look as androgynous as possible though because most my clients are more pleased by it. But I keep the beard!

Summer or winter?

That’s a difficult question because it depends how you look at it.

In summer, I’m constantly busy and nearly every evening on a different party to keep guests happy. Many new people as well, when they are here on vacation and need someone to help them unwind.

During winter there isn’t much to do, you mostly have your regulars and sometimes here and there a stray. You have literally too much time to think about stuff. Which is bad, at least for me.

Morning or afternoon?

When morning is defined to whenever I wake up, then mornings.

=EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE=

Are you in love?

Sweetheart, I’m in love with all my clients. That’s what is expected of me, isn’t it?

Do you believe in love at first sight?

No, but “I want to fuck you” at first sight does happen occasionally.

Who ended your last relationship?

My partner at the time. He had found someone that was better suited for him, and they are happy together.

Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

I guess, probably even more often than I could ever imagine.

Are you afraid of commitments?

Not afraid, but very careful. Therefore I never made many of them.

Have you hugged someone within the last week?

Do hugs during sex count? Nevermind.

Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Yes. I had and if you’re waiting for a cute romantic story then, sorry to disappoint! It was rather a creepy stalker that didn’t know boundaries.

Have you ever broken your own heart?

Every day.

=SIX CHOICES=

Love or lust?

Sweetheart, look at me! I earn my money with lust. Of course you have the occasional client that just needs a hug and a few loving words, but most of the time they want you to fuck their brains out.

Lemonade or iced tea?

Neither, too sweet for my taste. What about champagne?

Cats or dogs?

Cats. I admire them, bowing to no one’s whim. If only I could do that.

A few best friends or many regular friends?

I know many people, I have to when I want to do this job a bit longer, but none of those I consider friends. I had friends once but they either died or betrayed me. I have a few people I could call friends I guess, but I’m bad company.

Wild night out or romantic night in?

For a night to be romantic you need to have a relationship, and I only have clients. Some of them go out with me, spend money on my drinks and food, sure, but as soon as we’re alone you bet they want something in return, and it is rarely romantic.

Day or night?

Day, because that’s mostly the time when I sleep or can relax a bit.

=FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS=

Been caught sneaking out?

I have, but sneaking out in my job is not a bad thing. When you already got paid and your client is so exhausted that they fall asleep, it is rather complimentary.

Fallen down/up the stairs?

I tripped a few times, but falling up or down never happened to me. But did you ever got fucked while trying to go up the stairs? That’s something else.

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?

That’s why I said earlier that it is better for me to be alone.

Wanted to disappear?

For many years throughout my life, sometimes even today I have my moments, when life is fucking you over again.

=FOUR PREFERENCES=

Smile or eyes?

Eyes, they are the mirror to one’s soul. If anything tells you who you’re up to it will be their eyes.

Shorter or taller?

We’re talking body heights I guess? Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you didn’t specify what was meant!

I have no preference. Until now I always could make it work. *wink*

Intelligence or attraction?

Doesn’t matter really. I know both types of people. The guy that is so highly intelligent and tells you things about science you don’t understand, being pleased with himself on how smart he is. Or the guy that looks perfect, perfect body and face, but with a void behind his eyes. Same difference.

Hook-up or relationship?

Only hook-ups, not going to hurt myself again with relationships.

=FAMILY=

Do you and your family get along?

What is family? I have a son, but he doesn’t know that I’m his father, he calls me uncle instead. I get along well with him when I’m around.

Would you say you have a “messed up life”?

Do you have enough tissues to listen?

Have you ever run away from home?

I didn’t have a home where I could have run away from in the first place. But I ran away from people with ill intentions and I ran more than once away from the orphanage they wanted to force me in.

Have you ever gotten kicked out?

Nah, I always kicked myself out.

=FRIENDS=

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

No, what’s the point?

Do you consider all of your friends good friends?

Yes, those that I think of are good friends, as I said, I’m rather a bad friend to them.

Who is your best friend?

My ex actually, sounds weird, I know. It probably is. He is the only one that knows me well enough to call me out on my bullshit.

Who knows everything about you?

No one, It’s enough that I’m traumatised by my life.

#cyberpunk 2077 #oc questions #oc: vicco #nsft #kind of

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percontaion-points · 5 months

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Packless chapters 31 & 32

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 31

“I might have snuck a peek. Couldn’t help noticing your orange toes.”

“Tangerine,” she corrected, her toes curling into the carpet.

There was a happy glow in her green eyes, and my wolf whined, though I managed to muffle it before it slipped free. He retaliated by taking the toe-sucking image and playing it again, this time with more intimate body parts.

If you told me that this started off life as somebody’s Wattpad fetish fanfic, I wouldn’t even bat an eye.

The only question that remained was: why the hell did she need to keep an eye on the sky?

Chapter 31 summary: Later that night, Jasper watches the girls as they all have a weird wolf sleep huddle. Vail wakes up and comes to him, and Jasper is like “Mm, I want to suck on her toes.” This story is 100% the author’s creepy fetish, and every line painfully reminds the reader of this fact.

Jasper tells Vail that wolves don’t really kiss, and only do it for their mates. This is obviously a paper-thin excuse to get them to make out. They do this until Vail passes out from exhaustion.

The next morning, Jasper goes out to the packball field, where Callum calls Jasper out on his shit. That he also knows how to bribe people, and that he got the “official” report from the quack of a doctor that listed Vail as a void. Jasper says that his wolf has already claimed Vail, and that he knows what he’s doing. And then because Callum pissed Jasper off, Jasper punches Callum in the face.

Jasper then goes to find Vail, but she’s in class with Mr. Wentworth. The other students come out, but not Vail, who’s talking with Mr. W. He overheard “keep an eye on the sky”, which was something Mr. W had said in his note to Vail. Of which Jasper asks her about.

Chapter 32

“I’m crazy about you, Vail Chance. Wolf or male, we’re head over paws for you.”

The bizarre implication that his wolf isn’t male, for some reason.

She curled my hair for me with a hot iron that I was sure was going to take off an ear, but instead transformed me into a girl I didn’t recognise. What kind of magic were we dabbling in, that a few curls and some hair spray could make me look like a whole other person?

I would also like to know the answer to that question.

Love in a little over a week? That had the staying power of my newly curled hair. By the end of the dance, I’d be back to the old Vail. And where would that leave me? I was already packless. If Jasper realized it was all just some moony infatuation, would I be out in the cold again?

As frustrating as these last few chapters have been, with her flitting around and making out with Jasper, at least she’s considering a lot of long-term options here.

If something were to happen to Jasper, where exactly would that leave her? He’s literally the only one who thinks that she’s anything special. The other wolves likely wouldn’t hesitate to literally murder her to prevent… whatever this is from happening again.

“Just remember the illusion shatters at midnight, Cinderella.”

Chapter 32 summary: There’s some more fetish nonsense as well as pack drama at the start of the chapter, all of which is largely glossed over. Literally none of it is important, nor remotely new.

The narration then skips over to Vail leaving Jasper so that she can get ready for the school dance. Which honestly tells me more about the author than anything else.

Anyway, as the girls get ready, they seem to be under the impression that it’s the moon that’s making Jasper batty for Vail. And that once the dance is over, things will go back to normal. This forces Vail to stop and think about long-term things, as I had mentioned earlier. They also introduce the concept of the Luna, blood mates, and promised mates. Luna is the same in every other story: the female pack leader. Blood mates mean a serious commitment. Promised mates are mates who basically ended up in an arranged marriage.

Pearl randomly shows up to make an ominous statement, but like… I don’t give a shit about her.

#packless #hunter moon academy #bookblr #readers of tumblr #book review #omegaverse #fantasy novel #supernatural romance #werewolves #reverse harem

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surveysand · 11 months

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four.

How much did your senior prom dress cost you? i think $150? i honestly don't remember.

What dreams have stuck with you since childhood? the very first dream i ever remember having has always stuck with me, but that's it.

Have you ever been in a serious romantic relationship? yes.

Did you ever take your dog to school? no.

If you had had a baby in high school, what would you have named him or her? ella. i was absolutely obsessed with that name, lol.

If you had a baby now, what would you name him or her? caroline for a girl, noah for a boy.

Have you ever seen someone throw up on a plane? no.

Do you get motion sickness? i have been more recently only in the car, but nowhere else.

Has God ever healed you of anything? If so, what? i don't believe in god.

What is the most boring church you have ever attended? the church i grew up in. i've only been in a few, but i think that one seemed the most boring because it's the one i went to the most.

What is the most lively church you have ever attended? literally none. they've all been roman catholic churches where everything is so orderly and monotonous.

Do you find church fun or boring? boring.

What do you hate the most about summer? being hot all the time.

Which part of your body is the most muscular? my legs.

Did you ever take Latin in school? no.

Which major holiday is closest to your birthday? does halloween count? i'm counting it, lol.

What is your favorite Japanese name? i have no idea. i'm not knowledgeable in that area, lol.

Have you ever ran a cash register? no.

Did you collect Bratz dolls when you were younger? i had one or two, but i was much more of a barbie girl. i had hundreds of barbies.

Do you think your mom is attractive? yes, i will always think my mom is beautiful.

What was the last thing that disappointed you? realizing i forgot to refill the brita before going to bed, lol.

Do you like the feeling in your stomach on a big drop on a roller coaster? yes.

Skeletons or scarecrows? skeletons.

Do you own pumpkin earrings? no.

What computer game did you used to play all the time? webkinz. i still play it every now and then when i'm bored.

When was the last time you read a book? a few weeks ago.

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? (assuming you want any) no, i don't think so.

What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? i have no idea.

Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? instagram.

What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? probably trying to format a presentation for a class some way, lol.

Do you watch political shows? no.

Do you play any fantasy/roleplaying games? What? no.

Do you like salami? it's okay.

When was the last time you ate meat? a few days ago.

What was the last hot drink you drank? i have no idea.

Have your parents met your boyfriend/exes? yes.

How about your boyfriend’s parents? Met them? yes.

Do you know how to say I love you in at least 4 languages? i don't think so.

Do you find the sound of a cat’s purr relaxing? yes.

Do you know your mum’s first pet’s name? ugh, it's right on the tip of my tongue, but i can't remember. i know it was a sheepdog, though.

Would you ever want to be famous? If so, for what? only if it was for research accomplishments. i'm too insecure to do anything like signing/acting/etc.

Would you ever get a heart tattoo or your back? probably not.

What fruit can’t you stand? none. i love every fruit i've tried so far.

Do you know anyone autistic? yes.

How about someone bipolar? yes.

What do you consider private to you? health issues and finances.

Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: one of my close friends.

Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: overthinking, lol.

Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: sleeping at a normal time. i love being a night owl.

Name somebody who has tried to help you and ended up hurting you: one of my old therapists. she was awful.

Name a date that has a lot of significance to you: august 7.

Name something in your life that was a blessing in disguise: my dog. i knew i would love him and he would be important to me, but he came into my life right before a very traumatic event and saved my life in so many ways.

Name something that you’ve done that would be considered rebellious: smoke weed.

Name something you wish you had enough money to do: travel.

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onlyherefortheshowmances · 2 years

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*disclaimer: this was originally a tweet thread, so if the transitions/etc. are weird, I apologize in advance

The state/county still hasn't approved my medical assistance and food stamps even though they have everything they said they needed. In 7 days it will be 30 days since my application which is all the state call center will ever tell me. "They have 30 days."

So, hopefully that means that next week, they will actually get around to doing their jobs. I know they have a large caseload; hire more caseworkers then; pay them better so people actually want to do the job. I just need to see the fucking doctor.

I had to cancel appointments with both of my most important specialists last week because of this. (Granted I want to find a new Rheumatologist anyway, so I'm less upset about that one.) Lord knows how far out I'm gonna have to schedule once I finally have the insurance.

I'm probably going to end up getting evicted next month, because there is no way I'm going to have the money to pay rent. Which is going to make it even more impossible to find housing later and I'll have no where to go in the mean time.

Because of my disabilities, my best option is going to be sleeping in my car probably, but it's going to get cold soon, so I don't know how long that's going to last.

Everywhere I look, trying to find assistance, they only want to provide assistance to pregnant women, families with children, or domestic violence victims. I'm none of those things. I'm just a chronically ill; disabled; neurodivergent; single woman with no resources.

I feel like I'm being punished for not being irresponsible enough to get pregnant with or have a child that I couldn't take care of financially, physically, or emotionally. That I'm being punished for having a body where, even if I were to get pregnant it would likely kill me.

I don't have family or friends to help me. I don't have someone with an extra bedroom (that I would feel comfortable and safe in). I don't have anyone that can help me. But yet, somehow I'm not disabled enough. I should just suck it up and get a job.

I should just magically not be in near constant debilitating amounts of pain. I should just magically not be autistic with ADHD. I should just magically have an immune system that functions like its supposed to. I'm sorry, but I don't have that capability.

I understand why the chronically ill in Canada are choosing physician assisted dignified death as their best option. If that were possible here, it's something I would consider, because everywhere I look, there is nothing and no one to help me.

I don't want to die, but I also literally cannot survive in my current situation.

Not to mention the fact that I feel literally invisible because any time I post/tweet/etc. anything remotely serious/personal, it's just radio silence. It makes me feel like I'm being used, honestly. Like the people I consider friends, are really just using me for my humor or my fanfic.

[adding here: If feels as if my mask is all anyone cares about and the real me, the disabled one, doesn’t actually matter. Hey, your ableism is showing again.]

Like, I'm aware yinz (my twitter/tumblr followers, people on fb) can't actually DO anything about any of it, but when there's just complete radio silence it leaves me wondering if any one even CARES at all. No one has asked if there's something they can do.

Maybe it's my brain being broken. Maybe it's my direct communication offending the neurotypicals again. Whatever it is, it feels insanely isolating and only makes this whole situation feel that much worse.

[adding here: I’ve spent the past couple hours crying as all of his has crashed down on me hard today because I was stupid enough to attempt to do a singular thing last night so my body is very angry with me. It my high school’s homecoming football game; it was alumni band night; I just wanted to see my friends and make music and be normal for a few hours, but I guess I'm not allowed to do that anymore.]

#disability #chronic illness #rheumatoid arthritis #osteoarthritis #fibromyalgia #adhd #autism #actually autistic #neurodivergent #the broken american health care system #the broken american welfare system

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1863-project · 2 years

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Okay, i'm going to give some information on the Megaten games since I feel I should.

Basically they were inspired by a old japanese book series, basically about how computer coding is sorta similar to the strict, arcane rituals of summoning demons. In this case, demons being anything from any religion/folklore/mythology. (This also includes some closed religions, which is where some of the offensiveness comes from. At the time when the games were first made, it wasn't as well known that it was offensive, so it was sorta grandfathered in? Its probably not correct, but its one of those things that i'm not sure how you'd change if you could? )

Games tend to be very dark in tone, especially the modern ones. Basically, end of the world happened, and you're not going to stop it. But you can determine the path going forward. Each game has multiple endings, and none of them are considered a 'golden ending'. The neutral ending tends to be the closest, but even then it can be bittersweet, or asks you to consider the other choices/think about wether or not this is truly a good ending/a good future. It can make for some pretty powerful story moments.

People often describe the gameplay as "I'm being literally tortured, I love it :D" The games will throw so much terrible, awful, monstrous game design decisions at you, depending on how old the game is. Such as 'teleport maze where there are no visible cues, invisible walls, pitfalls/spin traps, and no map'. or just flat out kill you randomly in a random encounter, setting you back to wherever the last save was. So its just, this very rough game, but a sort of viciousness that someone could find enjoyable. Not everyone, but it absolutely has its audience.

The 3ds has Soul hackers (a sega saturn game that's actually getting a sequel soon!), Shin megami Tensei Strange Journey (A fairly dark-in tone game but also well liked ) Shin Megami Tensei IV (A mainline game many people consider to be the best, and has a lot of trigger warnings to it. They all do but I have seen some of the most messed up things in that game specifically. ) Shin Megami Tensei IV apocolypse (A sequel that people don't like as much as the original)

It also has Devil Survivor 1 and 2, A tactics like game that was meant to introduce people in the west to the franchise. Unlike most of the games that one's actually rated T, which makes it a bit more accessible/easy to recommend. The first one tells a dark, but hopeful and interesting storyline about the breakdown of society during a lockdown. It deals with serious topics like competition over food rationing, police brutality, personal responsibility, a comparison of the internet to the mythical tower of babel, and the fear/stress people are going though as the week continues, but in general has a relatively hopeful tone.

That game was made before 2020, by the way. Which I feel is incredibly important. As that game is probably going to read a lot different now then it did back then. Which is why I wanted to be very specific about that one's plot.

3DS Games Anon - here's another recommendation for you from another anon re: Shin Megami Tensei!

#replies #Shin Megami Tensei

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!

six months ago...

Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.

But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.

The latch turned and you opened it.

Fuck.

You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.

You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.

You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.

Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.

Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.

He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?

But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.

He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.

Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.

He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.

At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.

But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.

You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.

He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.

“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.

“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.

He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”

“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”

“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”

He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”

“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”

“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”

He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.

"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.

“Something like that,” you mitigated.

His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.

It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.

“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”

He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”

He believed you this time, finally.

For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.

He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)

So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.

Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.

“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.

And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”

Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.

You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.

Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”

Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.

You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.

It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.

He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.

To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.

But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.

six months later...

He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.

“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.

After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.

“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.

“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”

You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.

“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”

“They’re just so… bland!”

“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.

“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”

“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”

“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.

Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.

You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.

There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.

He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?

You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.

“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.

“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.

“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”

It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.

He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.

Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.

After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.

He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

“James.”

It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.

And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”

#sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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btsqualityy · 3 years

Text

Fools Rush In: Chapter 6

Jungkook x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, Strangers-to-lovers, age gap!AU (reader is 30, Jungkook is 23), Angst, smut, fluff

Summary: You catch up with your friends and Jungkook shows you that he’s serious about the baby.

Warnings: None to note.

WC: 1.3K

“So, how are things going with you and Jungkook?” Yumi asked as she settled herself down on the couch next to Jimin in your living room. Since you had decided to stay in Korea for the next few months, Yumi and your other best friend Jimin came to see you and catch up.

“Good, good,” you nodded as you looked over at her. “We’re uh, kind of seeing each other now.”

“Really?” Jimin gasped. “From what you had told me, you were insistent on raising the baby alone.”

“That was if she had to,” Yumi interjected.

“Exactly. And after I told him about the baby and he had a few days to think it over, he realized that he didn’t want me to have to do it alone,” you explained. “If he’s willing to step up, I don’t see why I shouldn’t give him a chance.”

“That’s all well and good but you don’t have to necessarily have to be with him just because he’s stepping up and literally doing what he should,” Jimin cautioned.

“I get that Jimin,” you rolled your eyes. “But I actually like him too. I mean, there is a reason why I slept with him almost four months ago.”

“It wasn’t just the good sex?” Yumi teased.

“No,” you giggled. “He’s just so...sure of himself and what he wants in life. Sure, he’s young and still trying to figure his shit out but he has a much better outlook on things than I did at 23, and I arguably had the world at my fingertips by that age. He’s funny and kind hearted and sweet, not to even mention how attractive he is.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about someone that you’ve dated that way,” Yumi pointed out but before you could reply, there was a knock on your front door. Excusing yourself, you got up from the couch and jogged over to your front door to pull it open.

“Hi,” you smiled when you saw Jungkook standing there, two bags in each of his hands. “What are you doing here?”

“Brought you lunch,” he replied, holding up the bags. “You busy?”

“I’m just hanging out with some friends but come in, come in,” you waved your hand and he nodded before stepping inside, watching as you shut the door behind him.

“Come here,” he said and you stepped closer to him, setting your hands on his cheeks as you kissed him firmly. The two of you kissed for a few seconds before you pulled away, taking a second to wipe a little spit from the side of his mouth.

“Come meet my friends,” you told him and he followed behind you as you led the way back into the living room.

“Who is this?” Yumi smirked knowingly and you just huffed before you began the introductions.

“Jungkook, these are my best friends Sato Yumi and Park Jimin,” you said. “Yumi, Jimin, this is Jeon Jungkook.”

“Your baby daddy,” Jimin added.

“Yeah, my baby daddy,” you laughed, making Jungkook do the same.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Jungkook smiled, bowing a little towards the both of them.

“Mm, cute and polite,” Yumi hummed in approval. “We love to see it.”

“I didn’t know that you guys were here, otherwise I would’ve brought more food,” Jungkook apologized sheepishly as he gestured to the bags in his hands.

“Oh, don’t worry about us, we were just leaving,” Jimin replied, motioning to Yumi who nodded before they both stood up.

“We’ll call you later Y/N,” Yumi whispered.

“Alright, see you guys later,” you said.

“Nice meeting you Jungkook!” Both Yumi and Jimin yelled out as they walked out of the door.

“You too!” Jungkook shouted back and once the door shut behind them, he turned to look at you. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you grinned. The two of you decided to settle in the living room, and Jungkook emptied the bags that he had brought with him and placed them onto the small table that was placed in front of the couch.

“Wow, did you buy the entire restaurant out?” You joked as you sat down on the floor.

“I’m kind of a big eater,” Jungkook chuckled sheepishly. “Truthfully, I could easily eat all of this by myself so I bought extra to make sure that there would be enough for the three of us.”

“Three?” You echoed, breaking apart the chopsticks that had come with the meal.

“You, me, and the baby,” he smiled shyly. “I know that with pregnancy, sometimes your appetite can change.”

“That’s sweet that you thought of that Jungkook,” you smiled. “It’s true, your appetite can change during pregnancy and I just got mines back after all that morning sickness.”

“I was right on time then huh?”

“Definitely,” you giggled and that was the last thing that was said before you both dug into the food.

“How was your day?” Jungkook asked as he slurped up some noodles and you chuckled before answering him.

“It was ok,” you shrugged. “I’m still a little sore from the tournament last week so I’ve kind of been laying around and then Yumi and Jimin came to see me. What about you? How was yours?”

“Good, good,” he nodded enthusiastically. “I did the photography for an event this morning and then I decided to get lunch for us.”

“Sounds entertaining,” you chuckled as you took a bite of samgyeopsal.

“Eh,” he muttered. “Oh, I uh...also talked to my parents today, and I told them about the baby.”

“Really?” You wondered with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you upset?”

“Of course not,” you shook your head instantly. “How did they take it?”

“Considering the situation, pretty well I think,” he explained. “They’re pretty modern given their age though, so I didn’t think they were going to be super upset. They did say that they would like to meet you soon though.”

“Ok, we can do that,” you agreed easily.

“What about your parents?” He questioned. “Have you told them yet?”

“No,” you huffed. “They’re extremely traditional and I know that they won’t react well to me not being married.”

“Are they married?” He asked.

“They just celebrated their 32nd anniversary in January,” you replied. “My mom is super religious and my dad is a stickler for tradition so if I tell them that their unmarried daughter is having a baby with a man seven years younger, they’ll have a heart attack, so I’ll tell them eventually but just not yet.”

“That’s understandable,” Jungkook murmured and the two of you continued your meal with small talk passing in between.

Once the two of you were finished and had cleaned up, Jungkook opened up his bag and pulled out a small box.

“I got something today,” he said as he passed the box over to it and you didn’t hesitate to pull the top off of it and inside were the smallest pair of green Nike’s sneakers that you had ever seen in your life.

“Jungkook, these are so cute!” You gushed as you reached inside and pulled out one of the shoes, examining it.

“I noticed that you prefer wearing Nike’s when you play and after I got the food, I saw these in a shop window and just had to get them,” Jungkook told you. “They had a few different colors but since we don’t know what you’re having, I thought green was a good unisex color.”

“It is,” you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked up at him. “They’re amazing.”

“Then why are you crying?” He wondered as he reached out and wiped away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

“Hormones,” you blurted, making him laugh. “Seriously, I love them.”

“I’m glad. I wanted to show you that I’m serious about this,” he muttered.

“I see that, and I appreciate it so much,” you assured him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smirked, leaning forward and kissing you gently.

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