#I’d have added a lot more to question 4 but I’d have been here for a while ahdhdjjsksk

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Forgiveness is requested but not expected. Downhill we go!!

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 3:

Over time, you grew less and less worried with Leon’s nice behavior. Your math grade has gone up significantly, surpassing a low C which is a passing grade, but since the tutor sessions have become much more bearable, you haven’t felt the need to stop going. Besides, you have an A streak to fulfill.

Your friends stayed suspicious about the frat boy’s intentions, however. The way you’d become so unbothered with everything relating to him had them stressed, yet at the end of the day, “no asshole can hold up a facade like that for this long”, as per Sky’s words.

Easygoing is the best way to describe Leon at this point. A gentle soul, from what you can tell. He goes out of his way to hold the door for you, share his food with you whenever he brings it, and he even gets excited with you whenever you get an A on any of your assignments or tests. It makes you happy that you held out for him.

“And that makes sense to you?” Leon was standing next to you, leaned over with both his hands on the table. You were both in the study room, only this time you had finished everything math related. Thanksgiving break had come and gone so everything had shifted towards the finals before Winter break, meaning now you were using the space to go over the study guide for the final given by one of your other professors, though it would’ve been nice to have your math study guide to burn into your brain since it’s your biggest struggle.

“Yeah, this is easy for me,” you mutter, hand against your mouth as your eyes move back and forth across the packet of information in front of you. Having Leon leaning over you had been commonplace since mid-November. He turned out to be very nosey. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own classes?”

You didn’t need to look at him to know he was extremely confused by your study guide. “Uhh.. nah,” he stood upright and slowly made his way around the table, sitting down in front of you with a small groan as he relaxed into the seat. “I’ve made it through the past couple years here without ‘em. No need for ‘em now.” You nodded to the side at his, bringing the pen you were holding up to your mouth to nibble on the end of it. “Makes sense…”

It took awhile before you noticed his nervous fidgeting, looking up from your study guide to give him a worried look. “Are you bored? I can finish up in my dorm if you-”

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” He cut you off, his eyes meeting yours before the room fell silent. The question was so sudden and you weren’t expecting anything like it, so it just had you confused. You must’ve looked it, too, since he moved his eyes away from yours while crossing his arms. “I mean-.. Y’know, figured I’d ask..”

Seeing him get nervous was always pretty cute to you, such a handsome guy getting worked up over you never failed to flatter you. “Oh, yeah! I’d like that, actually..” You giggled when Leon looked back at you, soon grabbing your few supplies to put back into your backpack. 

Relief spread across his face, moving to stand as you collected your items. “Good, okay, uh.. How’s Olive Garden sound?” To the average college student, Olive Garden was some high class fine dining. Anyone would be a fool to say no to an offer like that.

Just like your friend told you not to do, the absolute biggest no-no when it came to these types of college guys, you let Leon get even closer. It was just dinner in the beginning, but you started seeing him outside of study sessions afterwards with him going out of his way to seek you out and hang out with you and you the same. “Just going out to dinner” turned into dates real fast, faster than you even had time to process. 

You’ve almost completely forgotten about just how nasty he was towards you not three months prior with how he doted on you. Leading up to finals week, Leon made sure to bring you food after noticing your long study habits. He wouldn’t even give you a choice, just a simple “whaddya feeling tonight?” over text. He’d hang out in your dorm with you while you ate, much to your roommates dismay, and sometimes he’d just show up for no reason other than to see you. You’d blush and shy away from his flirting, he’d tease you, and you’d get mad at him for distracting you in a playful way. Even if you wanted to be actually mad at him, you couldn’t, not with that cheeky little grin he’d give you.

You never questioned his nosiness as he familiarized himself with your dorm, rummaging through your drawers as you whined at him from the bed to stay out of your stuff. Honestly, you’d probably look through his stuff too if you had the chance.

Having a boyfriend during your first year of college wasn’t exactly a goal, and you don’t know if this is even a relationship or not, but you weren’t complaining. It was so nice having someone care about you like this, especially when it’s someone who’s, to you, way out of your league in almost every sense. Though he wasn’t the most outgoing, he was very well known, and being seen with him meant the attention he received was spilling onto you. Hell, you didn’t even know he played football until he passed by you with his friends, all in their football get-ups. He never bragged about any practices or games to you, maybe you should’ve asked about the various bruises and scuffs he’d show up to the study sessions with. Oh well.

Every night during finals week, Leon would take you out for dinner under the guise of “destressing from the long day”, not that you minded, of course. You were growing increasingly anxious about your last final, the big one; math. The two of you were sitting in his black Jeep Wrangler as it idled out in the parking lot of McDonald’s, snacking on what was left of your meal in a comfortable silence. The combination of the heater blowing on you and the food in your stomach was settling you, if only a little.

Leon kept his eyes on you the entire time, hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh. His hand was so warm. “You’ll pass, I know you will.” His soft touch barely had you cracking a smile, looking through the windshield as large snowflakes quietly fell, lit up by the streetlights surrounding the parking lot and by the headlights on his car. The snow had accumulated an inch on the ground already, the sun having set nearly two hours prior. Winter and its short days, a blessing and a curse. “I don’t know..” You could feel his eyes on you, yet yours were stuck staring out at the falling snow. “My nerves always get me. I’m gonna make the stupidest mistakes and then once the final grades are in my parents’ll wanna see and then I’ll be surrounded be disappointment and shame and guilt.”

You closed your eyes and slumped your shoulders when you felt Leon squeeze your thigh, finally able to turn and look back at him. “You know that’s not how it’s gonna go.” He let out a breathy laugh when you raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, you’ve got it down! Plus, you had an amazing tutor~..”

With a dramatic groan, you rolled your eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, unable to hide your smile. “I guess, but you weren’t that amazing..”

Leon moved his free hand and brought it up to his chest, holding it there with a strong pout to feign hurt. “You wound me.. Was I nothing to you?” His smile quickly returned when you clicked your tongue at him, chuckling through his nose. “Seriously though, I’ve never met anyone as smart as you are. You learned how to do that kind of stuff incredibly fast, so I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you won’t demolish that final.” His compliments always left you blushing and at a loss for words, playfulness giving way to a more heavy air. “Thank you, Leon. Really, thank you...” 

You were too wrapped up in watching the snow fall through the windshield to notice when his hand pulled away from your thigh, or just how guilty he looked as he silently watched you.

The math final was easier than you were expecting. You understood basically everything that had been put on it minus a couple things that you scolded yourself for not brushing up on last minute. Grades weren’t put in until a week or more after the finals were turned in, yet you were confident enough in how it went to feel good leaving that room afterwards. 

This first semester had really tested your limits, but you were lucky to have your friends, lucky to have Leon. It didn’t feel strange having him around anymore, it felt natural, real. There weren’t enough ways to thank him for all that he did between tutoring you and taking care of you overall. 

You yelped with laughter as Sky picked you up, their arms around your midriff, waving you side to side as they yelled how proud they were of you. Ella only stood by and laughed along, making sure to take a picture of the moment as keepsakes. “Guys, I don’t even know if I passed yet!” You pushed away from Sky and they placed you back down on the ground, smoothing out your shirt which had you swatting their hands away.

“But! You survived and that’s always cause for celebration.” Ella pocketed her phone and took a couple steps forward so you were all standing in a small circle now. “You really pulled through these last few months.”

Thanks to Leon. “I did, huh?” You looked down with a bashful smile, shrugging before pulling the strap on your backpack further up so it wouldn’t slip off your shoulder. “You know,” Sky started, resting their elbow on your other shoulder while pursing their lips as they slowly turned their head to look at you, “you’re not very good at hiding your love for Leon..” 

You weren’t trying to hide it, it's just that even the vaguest thought about the man had you flustered and stumbling over your words like a fool. All you could do now was glare at your friend, who just raised their hands up in defense. “Hey now, not poking fun, just making an observation.”

Ella placed her entire hand over Sky’s face and pushed them away from you, ignoring their muffled complaints as she looked at you. “We’ll always be suspicious because we’re your friends and we care about you, but as long as you’re careful, we’ll keep our distance.”

Sky pulled Ella’s hand off their face, making gross-out noises while wiping their face off. “Blegh, anyways, yeah. Keeping our distance, but still watching from afar.” They pointed their index and middle finger from their eyes to yours before smiling.

You hung around in their dorm as Ella finished packing up her suitcase. She’s had her plane ticket back home booked for a month, constantly expressing her need to leave as soon as finals were finished during that time. Sky was leaving the same day you were, which was in two days since you both drove or were driven here. Leon stayed at his frat house all school year, so you were thankful to have two people sticking around so you weren’t left all alone.

Unfortunately, this meant you had your own packing to do. Thankfully though, your roommate had already left, sparing you from their menial chit-chat. Packing was almost cathartic in a weird way, almost as if you saw going home as a reward for working yourself to the bone at this university. Quiet music was playing from your phone as you gathered the essentials, you’d be coming back in three weeks so there wasn’t any need to pack up everything.

A gentle knock knock knock at your dorm’s door startled you from your thoughts, causing you to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t just coming from the song that was playing. Slowly, you made your way over to the door, and before you’d even opened it fully, Leon slipped his way through, side stepping into the room with a cheeky smile. 

You scoffed as you watched him weasel his way in, hand stuttering away from the door handle to allow the heavy door to shut. “You could’ve waited until I opened the door all the way.” 

“I knocked, though.” Mischief was evident in his tone as his eyes landed on the suitcase sitting on your bed. “Getting ready to leave?”

“Not for another couple days. Just.. wanna be ready.” You walked past him over to your suitcase, continuing to fold the last few pieces of clothing you wanted to bring back home. “Perfect, got some extra time to spend with you then.” Leon chuckled, now standing next to you to watch you get back into rhythm.

Having him admit that so casually had you nervous, cheeks heating up as you glanced over at him. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with your friends?” The eyebrow raise he gave you made you stumble as you tried to elaborate. “N-not that I don’t want to hang out with you! I just feel like you’d have more fun celebrating the end of the semester outside of a stuffy dorm.” You tried to laugh away the embarrassment, moving your focus back to the suitcase as you zipped it up.

“I can celebrate with those slobs any time, but for right now, I would really like to be around you.” Leon carefully lifted your suitcase off the bed, placing it near the door for you. “You’re nice and quiet. They’re not.” You sighed after lifting yourself up onto your bed, sitting criss-cross right in the middle while meekly smiling to yourself, watching him walk back over to stand in front of you.

“By the way,” he said, turning his head to look out your window for a split second before looking back down at you, “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how proud I am of you for coming out of that math final. I know results take awhile, but you seem pretty pleased with yourself.” He crossed his arms and bent forward a bit with a teasing smirk as he not-so-subtly looked you up and down.

You covered your face with your hands and laughed into them, a poor attempt to hide your ever increasing blush. After letting your hands fall away, you bunched the end of your hoodie up in them, fiddling with the thick fabric as you replied. “Yeah, uh.. I think I did alright.” You were going to say more, but you stopped when Leon’s hand found its way under your chin, tilting your head back so you were looking at him. “C’mon, don’t downplay this, baby. You did amazing and you know it.”

Your mind went blank at the pet name and you were finding it hard to breathe with the way his hand felt under your chin. The air in your dorm was a tad tense before, yet now it just felt heavy. Stifling. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as you tried to think of something, anything to say.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He said with a breathy laugh, gently tilting your head side to side as he studied you. And you let him. Your mouth felt dry, face hot as he leaned in closer. “You’re so beautiful..” His voice dropped an octave and his eyes were lidded as they stared into yours. “So smart, so brave..” Soon his lips were brushing against yours, whispering out a final “So perfect..” before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

It didn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to mimic Leon’s movements. His hands cautiously slid down to grasp at your waist while yours moved up to cup his face, pulling him closer. He slowly crawled onto the bed with you tugging him along, leaving you laying down as he hovered over the top of you, knees planted on either side of your legs while one of his arms moved up to support himself. 

He was doing his best to be careful with you, noting your nervous tremble as his right hand slid under your hoodie. “M’gonna take care of you, ‘kay?” He hummed against your sensitive skin, kissing along the underside of your jawline. You only nodded as his lips trailed down your neck, stopping when your hoodie got in his way of the rest of you. “Need you to say ‘okay’ f’me, baby.”

Nearly whining when he stopped, you nodded again a bit more vigorously this time, voice barely a whisper. “O-..Okay..” You propped yourself up slightly when Leon pulled his head away from your neck, his eyes meeting yours as both his hands were now playing with the end of your hoodie. “Y-Yeah, okay…” You repeated.

First it was your hoodie, then it was his jacket, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms, chest pressed against yours as he reached around to unclasp the hooks on your bra. You immediately brought your arms up to cover your breasts once Leon leaned back after pulling your bra off, self-consciousness suddenly settling in. “Hey hey, no need to hide from me..” He cooed, eyes raking down your body as he grabbed your hands to pull your arms away, thumbs rubbing circles onto the tops of your hands as he stared with a crooked smile. 

You took the opportunity to take in his form; muscular, a couple old scars and freckles standing out to you. He was gorgeous, through and through, no doubt about it. He took notice, craning his neck to look down at his exposed chest before looking back up at you. “Looks good, huh?” That got a small giggle out of you, at least.

He slowly guided you back down onto the bed, his hands firmly rubbing up and down your sides. “You look even better, though. Layin’ pretty beneath me~..” His right hand found its way to your panties, running his fingers along the band before trailing further down to press his middle finger against the gusset. You gasped at the feeling while he laughed quietly, leaning back a bit further to catch a glimpse of the wet spot he was feeling. “You’re soaked.. Lil’ bit of touching got you all worked up?”

Your hands flew up to hide your face again as he rubbed his finger up and down your clothed pussy, letting out small gasps and whimpers all the while. You shakily nodded, subconsciously spreading your legs further apart as he slotted himself between them. 

“Tell me something, babe.” Leon paused his movements to look up at you, huffing a chuckle through his nose when he noticed you’d covered your face. “You seem real nervous, so I’m jus’ wonderin’...” Dread settled in your stomach at his implication, you were hoping he wouldn’t ask this. “Yes..” You whispered, parting your fingers over your right eye so you could look at him. “Don’t make me say it, please…”

He hummed low in his chest, eyes darkening as they moved back down to your panties. “Juuust wonderin', is all..” His finger started to caress you over your panties again while adding a bit more pressure. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Only means I gotta make this extra special for you~.” You moved your hands to shoot him a weak glare and he smiled in return. “Didn’t say I couldn’t say it.”

Once he felt your tremble start to dissipate, he brought his hands up and hooked his fingers on the band of your panties before slowly tugging them off, letting out a low groan as a string of slick stayed connected to the gusset from your leaking pussy. “Fuck, that’s hot..” He breathed in sharply through his teeth, taking your panties into one hand before grabbing his hoodie, stuffing them into the large pocket in the front.

Leon didn’t waste any time putting himself back between your legs, languidly dragging his middle finger up and down through your folds. He relished in your every noise, even as you tried to hold them in. “You ever finger yourself before?” He asked, voice gravelly as he repeatedly pulled his finger back to watch your slick cling to it by a string. 

“... no..” Your innocence had him groaning to himself again. He could ignore the guilt eating away at him long enough to handle you the way you needed to be handled. “Let’s give it a try then, yeah?” He hunched over some more so his face was hovering above yours, middle finger now gently circling your clenching hole.

“P-Please be careful..” You whimpered, slightly panicked at the feeling of his finger nudging your entrance, one of your hands grasping the bed sheets while the other held onto his bicep that was closest to you.  “I’ll be so careful, baby.. I promise I’ll be careful.”

And he was. What would’ve normally been a relatively quick process turned into ten minutes of Leon tenderly stretching you on his fingers. He studied your face the entire time, whispering sweet words into your ear, even letting out deep moans to encourage your own timid ones. You needed the time. There's no rush.

He moved down to pair his fingers with his mouth, tongue running through your wet folds as his fingers stroked your walls. The noises you let out when he sucked on your clit were intoxicating. You were intoxicating.

Once Leon pulled his mouth and fingers away from you, you knew what was coming. And when he paused for a moment after standing up, hands hooked in his boxers, eyebrows tightly furrowed together in thought, that only served to make you more nervous.

“..Leon?” You managed to say, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched his shake himself out of his head. “Yeah, sorry, just… thinking about the best way to go about this. Don’t wanna scare you.”

“You-... I’m not gonna be scared..” You looked from his face down to his boxers, eyeballing where his fingers were still hooked in them. He just clicked his tongue, nodding his head to the side with a soft “if you say so”. 

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared. There wasn’t much frame of reference, but Leon was… sizeable, for lack of a better term. And it wasn’t just his size that was intimidating to you, it was the idea of sex itself. Sex has always been made out to be this big grandiose milestone by everyone around you, so now that you’re about to actually do it is giving you the same sinking feeling that public speaking does. 

“You’re scared.” Leon had pulled his boxers all the way down without you noticing, letting them lay abandoned on the floor as he took the small step back towards you. “No.” You were quick to object, eyes still glued to his dick. He chuckled and tilted your head back by your chin once more. “Yes, you are, and it’s okay. I’m not gonna kill you with it.”

“You might…” You muttered under your breath, eyes lowly making their way back down to his dick as he got back up onto the bed and in between your legs. “I promised you I’d be careful, right?” Leon grunted, his hand squeezing the base of his cock before giving it a few slow strokes. 

You swallowed dryly, pulling your eyes away and back up to meet his. “Yeah…” He nodded, giving you a wobbly smile as he teased his thumb across his tip. “Right. So don’t worry, I’ve gotcha..”

You only nodded, doing your best to keep your eyes up and focused on his face as he lubed himself with your juices. Your eyes widened once you felt him line himself up with your hole, body jerking a bit at the slight pressure.

“You gotta relax, sweetheart..” He used his freehand to stroke your thigh before pulling your right up over his shoulder, hand moving back down so his thumb could rub your clit. “Just breathe and focus on what my hand’s doin’, alright?”

The two of you were lucky that a lot the people in your dorm building left already, cause when his tip finally pushed past that ring of muscle, you let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. It hurt, but it was also such a new feeling that it simply startled you. “Okay, okay, that’s the hardest part. You did it.” You panted, hands tugging at the blankets beneath you as he stilled. “Okay…” You copied him, nodding your head once you felt you were ready for him to move.

The sting of the stretch was the hardest to get by, however it was easily masked by just how full you felt after Leon was fully sheathed inside you. So new, yet so good. 

You let out a shaky sigh, eyes closing as you rested back against the bed. Your heart was beating and your body felt hot. It was actually a nice feeling. “You- ugh.. You can move.. a little..” You breathed out, grunting softly when you felt him twitch.

“Mhm..” Leon agreed with only a hum, not trusting his mouth enough to speak. He pulled back an inch before thrusting just as slowly,  eyes darting around your face for any sign of discomfort. A minute or so of taking it slow led to deeper thrusts, following your command as you asked for “harder”, “deeper”, “faster”. All with that sweet voice that he couldn’t say no to.

You were eating away at him and you didn’t even know it; wrapped around him so perfectly, that delicious honey of yours dripping down his balls, moaning his name, looking at him with those glassy eyes, fuck. He fits you so well.

He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at you any longer. Ignoring the guilt was harder than he thought, even with him thrusting into you like he owned you. You weren’t his, he can't have you the way you want him to-

“Shit-!” He gasped, too lost in his own thoughts to notice you’d grown close until you abruptly clenched around him, sloppy cunt milking his cock. His thrusts stuttered to a stop as he buried himself deep into you, cumming with a whine of his own. Looking at the wall with bleary eyes, he furrowed his brow again, chewing on the inside of his cheek while he caught his breath.

Clarity crashed into him when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a weak hug. He needed to go, but how could he leave you like this? God, he was so fucked.

He should’ve just stayed an asshole, that would’ve kept you far away. And he should’ve never taken that stupid bet. All this for a pair of panties to wave around like a trophy.

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik

(few of your blogs won't work, but i really tried 😩)

#college au my beloved #bully leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon scott kennedy #re4 leon #leon scott kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy x you #multichapter #multi chap fic

[veronicaphoenix]

Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Bonus Scene I (can be read as part 4)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Oliver Sykes x Reader | Words: 6.2k

Tags: polyamorous relationship, men in denial, a lot of swearing, angst, sexual content including p in v (protected), oral (m. receiving), masturbation.

Sheffield, United Kingdom

Summer 2024

I had barely wrapped the towel around my body when the sound of their escalating voices pierced through the tranquility of the house. 

         They were having an argument, and it wasn’t going good. 

         I rushed out of the bathroom and down to the living room, the urgency in my movements nearly causing me to lose my footing as I rounded the landing of Oliver’s home, my heart racing with a mix of confusion and concern. 

         Arriving in the living room, with my hair tied in a messy bun and my body clad only in the towel, I was met with a disconcerting sight. Oliver and Noah were standing in the middle of the living room, glaring, and shouting at each other. Both ignored me. Luna was conspicuously absent. 

         As I gazed between them, I noted their rigid positions and how charged their voices were. I had never seen them so heated. The smell of the heavy lunch we’d had that morning still lingered, but the atmosphere felt oppressive. The tv was murmuring in the background. Noah’s hoodie thrown casually on the armrest and Oliver’s MacBook still open on the other side of the sofa. 

         “Why all the shouting?” I questioned; my voice laced with concern as I surveyed the look on their faces, their expressions, and assessed how bad it could get from here. 

         Despite my presence, which usually incited their attention, they remained locked in the tense standoff, their focus solely fixated on each other. The air crackled with palpable agitation as accusations flew back and forth like arrows in a heated battle. 

         “Oliver here seems pretty convinced that I’m monopolizing your time, and that eventually I’ll keep you away from him, as if I’d ever sabotage this relationship,” Noah retorted bitterly, gesturing vehemently towards the man standing merely six feet from him. “Do you honestly believe I’d do such thing? What do you think I’m going to do to her, dude? Hide her passport so that she can’t travel anywhere? Burn yours so that you can’t leave this country?” 

         “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Oliver said, his voice dripping with frustration and resentment. 

         His bitter-edged response only continued to mount the tension, fueled by their sudden mutual distrust and resentment. Where was this all coming from? 

         “Oh, really? That’s what you think of me?” 

         Their voices grew louder, and I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of unease, a primal instinct warning of impending danger. 

         “Guys, please. Can you just…” They dismissed my attempt at diffusing the escalating conflict. I spotted Luna peering at us from behind the sofa. That’s where she had been; hiding. I couldn’t blame her. I had never seen Oliver and Noah acting like this towards each other, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me a little, too. “You’re scaring Luna,” I admonished, gathering some courage and adding a hint of anger to my tone. However, it seemed to have little effect on them.

         “You’re being ridiculous, Oliver. You’re being jealous over fucking nothing! We’re all in this together. You love her. I love her. We’re all invested in this relationship. We’re fucking her together. I love watching you fuck her. I understand that I spend more time with her because of our residence in the States, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about you every morning and every night.”

         As Noah’s words reverberated through the room and filled each corner, realization dawned on me. Of course, I had thought about this before, but I’d been too focused on my own happiness and pleasure that I hadn’t taken the time to address the issue. Now, as the fire grew in front of me, the problem was clear. 

         “Boys,” I said, taking a tentative step forward to position myself nearly in between their bodies. “Calm down. Please.” My hands were raised at level with their chests. I waited a few seconds, checking if my words had some effect. When I confirmed it and earned their looks, I spoke, “I think the problem is not about who’s spending more time with me,” I told them. “The problem is that you’re both fucking me but you’re not fucking each other.” It was blunt, but given their current state, I don’t think anything else would have made them redirect their focus to the real issue. 

         My blunt assessment seemed to freeze them in place, the weight of my words settling like a thick fog in the room. This was the crux of the matter, and I was determined to confront it head-on, even if the hardest part had to be sorted between them. 

         They went still, then. My words seemed to fill the room with prickling tension. This was the issue, and they were not going to change my mind. Ever since we started this relationship, I had expected for it to be more than just me getting fucked. 

         “You’re wrong,” Oliver protested after a tense pause, his voice tinged with defiance. “The problem is not sex. It’s just Noah being…”

         “Again!” Noah shouted. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I love her! And I love what the three of us have! Where is the fucking problem, man? Why are you being such a teenager?”

         “A teena—?”

         “Guys, stop! Please, stop!” This time, I pressed my hands to their chests, feeling the tension radiating through their bodies. They pressed against me. I feared that if I hadn’t been there, things might have escalated into a physical confrontation. “Oli,” I called out. He ignored me. “Oliver! Look at me. Listen to me.”

         It took a while, but eventually Oliver met my gaze. I eased the pressure of my hand on his chest, conveying through my touch that there was no need for defensiveness. Not with me.  

         “Do you feel like Noah is not spending enough time with you?” 

         Something crossed his eyes. 

         “Love, I swear it’s not that…” Oliver began, his voice softer now. I raised my hand, gesturing to silence him. 

         “I think the root of the problem lies with me,” I continued, turning my head to look at Noah. His chest was rising heavily, his nostrils flaring. If I hadn’t got out of the shower at the time I did, I might have made it downstairs to find him turned into a dragon. This was not the anger that he exuded on stage. This was real. This was raw. And it wasn’t nice. “I’ve been demanding too much from you without allowing you both the space to explore your own emotions and feelings toward each other.”

         Noah chuckled, and I glared at him. 

         “I think we made it clear plenty of times that we’re okay with this, being the three of us together,” Noah added. 

         “Yeah, but… There’s a line that you haven’t crossed. Every time it’s there, you both recoil, as if scared to cross it.”

         “We’re not scared,” Oliver was quick to say, his tone laced with bravado.  

         Noah had the same expression on his face, which told me that they were going to make this harder than required for me and for themselves.

         “Then, why are you shouting at each other? Why are you making such a fuss about something that could be solved in five minutes if you sit down and talk like the adults you are?” 

         “Because it’s not about that,” Oliver retorted.

         I raised an eyebrow.

         “You’re jealous,” I said. “Not jealous of Noah spending more time with me. Not jealous of Noah getting to eat me out. You’re jealous because he’s not sucking your cock.” 

         Oliver started saying my name, his cheeks flushed, but stopped midway, frozen. When I looked at Noah, he had an identical expression etched his face, and when his eyes crossed Oliver’s, they both looked away. 

         This would have been funny —cute, even— if it weren’t for how angry they were. I knew better than to make fun of their behavior when they were fuming and one step away from becoming rottweilers. 

         “And you’re just angry because you don’t know how to channel those emotions,” I continued telling Oliver, “and instead of telling that to Noah straight away or getting on your knees, you decide to shout at him and accuse him of monopolizing my time.” 

         “Because he is! Are you taking his side?”

         “That’s not what I’m doing,” I replied, turning to Noah. “You—.”

         “What have I done?! Is it my fault that we were born in America and live in the same city?” He exclaimed, raising his arms in the air. 

         I ignored his comment. 

         “You know exactly where his feelings come from because you feel the same! And instead of being honest with him, and with me, you shout back at him as if he was your enemy.”

         “You didn’t hear the things he said to me ten minutes ago,” Noah chided. 

         I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to know if Oliver had been serious.  

         “Did you mean them?” I asked Oliver. “Did you really mean them?”

         “No,” he admitted, resignation evident as he dropped his shoulders. 

         I sighed, hopeful that this meant we were getting somewhere; that I’d be able to bring back the peace. I had to admit, though, that the ambience had been tense since before Noah and I arrived. The last videocall between Noah and Oliver hadn’t been very nice, and the strain between them had lingered since then. I could have noticed, but instead I ignored it, selfishly focusing on the thought that I would get to have them both together again in a matter of days, as soon as our flight landed in London. 

         “Can we sit down so that we can discuss this calmly?” I urged, exasperation creeping into my voice.

         “No,” they both replied in unison, their synchronized loud response startling me.

         My eyes widened. I sighed, hard, feeling a mix of irritation and desperation. 

         “Fine, do it your way, but I will sit down.” I relented. I tightened the towel around my body and settled on the sofa. Their brief, shared glance at my bare legs didn’t escape my notice, but it was quickly overshadowed by the tension in the room.  

         “Is anyone else happy in this relationship besides me?” I asked with my arms folded defensively against the chill creeping into my body.  

         “Yes. I am,” Noah replied. “I’m happy, too, but this moron here fails to see it. He fails to see everything I did for this to work. I could’ve had you all to myself if—.”

         “There it is!” Oliver exploded, cutting off Noah’s words with the sharp edge of his tongue.  

         “Noah!” I admonished him, my tone and look conveying my disapproval at his choice of words. He shouldn’t have said that, regardless of whether it held any truth. He should not have said that.  

         “Oh, come on,” he retorted. “Don’t twist it now. I wouldn’t be here in this house if I wasn’t okay with what we have. I told you I’m okay with you fucking her,” he said to Oliver. “She loves you fucking her. And getting her to do what she loves matters to me more than anything else.”

         “It shouldn’t be like that,” I murmured softly. 

         Noah simply gazed at me. I could tell he was tired. He didn’t want to argue, but the complexities of his and Oliver’s dynamic had ensnared them in a tangled mess.

         “It’s clear that you two love fucking me, and I definitely love it, too, so no need to go through this again. Boys,” I changed my position, kneeling on the sofa cushions to meet their eyes with a pleading look, “do you doubt what I feel for you? I have no room for a single doubt regarding your feelings for me, but I’m willing to talk if any of you feel that I don’t love you enough, or that I favor one over the other.” 

         “Kitten…” Noah began, but it was Oliver’s fingers the ones that reached my chin. 

         “You’re everything we could’ve ever asked for. You haven’t done anything wrong, doll.” 

         “What about each other? Do you doubt each other?” I pressed, feeling a pang of cold as Oliver’s touch left my skin. “You have to talk to each other,” I insisted. “We’re not moving forward until you do.”

         For a moment, I thought I did it. I thought that I managed to break through the barriers between them, that they would finally sit down and have an open, honest conversation.  

         But I was wrong.

         They exchanged glances, communicating silently as they waited for the other to make a move.

         I felt a growl building in my throat, frustration bubbling up inside me.   

         “Why are you being so macho? What’s the need for this?” I demanded. “I have no problem with you being all dominant and rough with me. But you can also be every other side of yourselves, and it won’t change the way I see you.”

         I could see my words chipping away at their defenses, but it still wasn’t enough. My frustration grew with each passing moment, a sense of helplessness settling over me as they remained locked in that stupid standoff. 

         As my words hung in the air, challenging their stubborn resolve, I expected some sign of surrender, a flicker of realization in their eyes. But instead, their stances remained rigid, their expressions hardened by the weight of their unspoken turmoil. Oliver’s jaw tightened even further, his brows furrowing in defiance, while Noah’s eyes darted away, a silent admission of discomfort.

         It was as though my words had ricocheted off their armored walls, leaving me standing alone in the battlefield. Despite my efforts to bridge the chasm between them, their refusal to let down their guard only fueled my frustration further, a searing flame of helplessness burning within me.

         With a heavy sigh, I realized that I had reached the limits of my influence. 

         “This is it? You prefer to keep ignoring the elephant in the room? Both of you? For God’s sake… All right,” I stood up, crossing between their bodies and heading towards the stairs. Luna suddenly trailing behind me in a hurried way. Turning away, my footsteps heavy with disappointment, I left them to solve the problem on their own. “You can sleep in the sofa tonight. Or, I’ll take the sofa and you can take… the bed or the floor. I don’t care, but I’m not going to be a part of this anymore until the three of us are finally on the same boat. You’re being dicks to each other, and the three of us are going to pay for the consequences, eventually.”

         Standing there was like watching a slow-motion collision, where each avoided the inevitable crash, preferring the tension to confrontation. My outburst was a last-ditch effort, a desperate plea to break through the thick walls of pride and insecurity that kept them at odds. But as I stormed out, leaving them to their stubborn silence, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this impasse would persist until they found the courage to confront the truth they both feared.

I woke up to the chill of two empty sides on the bed, and a pang of loneliness pierced my chest. When I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I could see the sadness etched into every line of my face. 

         I washed away the traces of sleep and decided to make the bed, a subconscious effort to delay facing the reality awaiting me downstairs. 

         They hadn’t come upstairs to sleep. Oliver entered the bedroom around 8pm to grab some clothes and retrieve his and Noah’s toothbrush from the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but be speechless at how dramatic they were being.  

         Thirty minutes later, having attempted and failed to find some peace and strength in a short meditation on the balcony, I went downstairs with hushed footsteps. 

         I started preparing breakfast, not aiming to disturb their sleep, but the soft hum of the coffee machine and the clinking of plates and cups echoing in the open kitchen stirred Noah from his slumber. On the other side of the sofa, Oliver lay sprawled on his back, his hair tousled. As the deep sleeper he was, he only stirred slightly before settling back into his restful state. 

         I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. It seemed that at least one of us managed to get some decent rest, even if it was on the couch.  

         As Noah propped himself up on his forearms, his gaze drifted over to Oliver’s form, then down to the middle of the sofa where their legs lay entangled, hidden beneath the shared blanket.  The sight of their bodies occupying the entire sofa would have brought a smile to my lips were it not for the reason why they had spent the night there. I could only imagine them moving around and kicking each other during the night, adding another silly unnecessary thing to the pile of stuff they had been arguing about the evening before. 

         With a heavy sigh, Noah finally sat up and ran a hand through his face and hair.  

         “Morning,” he grumbled.

         “Morning,” I replied. 

         Noah took a quick bathroom break. When he came back, he walked with deliberate steps to where I was standing in the kitchen. He leaned in for a morning kiss that I was more than quick to give. He lingered by the kitchen isle to watch me make breakfast, accepting the coffee mug I offered and taking a sip while keeping his eyes on me. 

         “I expected you guys to come to bed at some point,” I said in a low voice, trying to conceal the twinge of hurt I felt at the fact that they had opted for sleeping on the couch instead of addressing their issues and joining me in bed. 

         “I wanted to,” Noah said, his voice tinged with regret, “but you made it clear that we needed to sort things out first, that you didn’t want us in bed with you if we didn’t, so…”

         I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. I placed my hands on the edge of the counter, exasperation crawling back to my bones. 

         “You know it wasn’t meant like that,” I sighed. “I was just trying to nudge you both into dealing with the real problem.”

         His silent response and the heaviness of his brown gaze on me confirmed my dreaded suspicion—he still wasn’t ready to. He still didn’t want to talk about it. Great.

         “Did you miss us?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence. 

         Typical Noah. Whenever he knew he’d messed up, he’d try to sidestep the issue with softness instead of facing it head-on. I couldn’t help but be surprised that even after the heated argument we’d had the day before, he was still reluctant to confront the elephant in the room. 

         But when he looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes, I suddenly became weak. 

         “Every minute,” I admitted, a bittersweet smile forming on my lips. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m used to being sandwiched between you two now. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a text, and waiting for both of you to show up at the bedroom door,” I shook my head. “God, I’m turning into such a sap.”

         My words elicited a laugh from him, one of my favorite sounds in the morning.  

         “You’ve always been a sap,” he teased, leaving the coffee mug aside and pulling me close until his hands found my waist. With no effort at all, he lifted me onto the counter. 

         Grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through the silky hair at his nape. He stepped between my legs, and I relished in the familiar warmth of his body against mine in the chilled morning.  

         “Did you talk?” I inquired softly, obviously referring to him and Oliver. 

         “Not much, to be honest,” he admitted. His forehead found mine as he leaned in. “I don’t know what to do.”

         Allowing a moment for him to relax in my arms, I gently brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead after pulling back to meet his eyes. 

         “I know you two are aware that this is not a relationship based solely on you two dating me,” I began, my voice tender. “We’re all in this together. We’re all dating each other. But you and Oli are struggling to come to terms with it,” I made a pause, my eyes boring into his, “or with what it means.”

         A flash of insecurity crossed Noah’s face, his usual self-confidence momentarily faltering. My heart ached for him.  

         “I’ve never been with a man before, baby,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.  

         I nodded, understanding without him needing to explain. Of course I knew. 

         “I had never been with two men,” I started to say, reaching out to touch his cheek gently, “but here I am, utterly in love and happy with both of them,” I tried to summon a reassuring smile, but Noah’s insecurity lingered, prompting me to continue speaking. “It was scary at first. I spent weeks worrying about what would happen, especially when we flew back home after Europe. But everything is so wonderful now, and I wish to keep it that way, but for that, we need the whole package, Noah. And that includes you and Oliver giving each other what you’re missing out,” I playfully bopped his nose, but he flinched, giving me an annoyed look. All right. “Also, I don’t think Oli’s ever been with another man, either” I added, glancing toward his sleeping form on the sofa. “So, it would be a first time for both of you.” 

         “Would you… like that? Oli and me?” Noah’s voice wavered with uncertainty. 

         I reached for a biscuit from a plate beside me, taking a bite and chewing slowly. After licking some crumbs from the corner of my lips, I casually rubbed the heel of my socked foot against the back of Noah’s thigh.

         “I’ve been thinking about sitting in the armchair in the bedroom and watch you and Oliver do nasty things to each other,” I said with a mischievous grin. 

         Noah narrowed his eyes at me.

         “You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”

         His teasing remark brought back a sense of normalcy, making me feel a bit relieved for the first time that morning after a restless night. 

         “So I’ve been told,” I replied nonchalantly, taking another bite of the biscuit. 

         Noah took the remaining biscuit from my hand and returned it to the plate before kissing me slowly, his hand cupping my cheek and his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear as our lips melded together. 

         “It’d make me really happy to see you together,” I said, placing my hands on his face and pulling back slightly to meet his gaze directly, “but I know it would make you and Oli even happier. You’re hungry for each other. I’ve seen it in the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. The sex is amazing, and we’re all satisfied, but you’re just dying to taste him and you’re too shy to make a move. Same with him, which is unusual,” I continued, drawing out my words as I shrugged my shoulders, “given how carefree he is with everything he says and does, including those impromptu cat walks when he’s wearing that silly maid outfit.” 

         We shared a laugh, the tension dissipating further before indulging in another lingering kiss. This was Noah’s way of seeking reassurance, and I was more than happy to oblige and give it to him. I would give him as many kisses as he needed. 

         “This is where all this tension is coming from”, I concluded, my voice softening once again. 

         Noah’s chest rose with a heavy sigh that said he finally admitted it. He released the breath he had been holding just as Luna appeared at our side, her eyes pleading for her morning walk.

         “Can you wait a bit, darling? We’ll take you out in a few minutes,” I said to her. 

         “I’ll take her out now,” came Oliver’s unexpected voice. 

         Noah and I startled at the interruption, Noah moving away from me as if caught in something criminal. Despite reaching out to him, my eyes focused on Oliver. 

         Oliver excused himself to go to the bathroom before I could open my mouth. He was still upset about what happened the night before, and I guess he didn’t like seeing me in Noah’s arms first thing in the morning, especially since that’s what started the arguments the day prior. 

         I reminded myself to stay calm. I’d have to go through the same talk with him to get him to the same place where Noah was.   

         “Oliver,” I said, my voice gentle yet firm. 

         “What?” came his response, edged with tension. He avoided looking at Noah. 

         Seeing them like this broke my heart and infuriated me simultaneously.  

         “You and Noah need to talk. Right now,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. 

         The whole situation was dripping with irony. I wanted to shout back at Oliver all the things he had preached about before we started this relationship—all that talk about communication being paramount to make this work. Where was all that now? 

         “We can talk later,” he replied, attempting to evade the conversation by calling out for Luna, who happily trotted towards her dad, tongue out and tail wagging. 

         “No,” I asserted, holding my ground. “You two are going to talk right now,” I insisted, positioning myself at a fair distance between both so it wouldn’t seem like I was taking sides.  “I swear, if either of you keeps dragging this out without reason, I will get on the first flight back to Los Angeles. So, decide right now. Do you want me to leave?” I directed the question to both of them. “Or do you want more? What’s it going to be?” 

         Oliver dropped his shoulders in resignation, a small victory amidst the tension. Noah was standing behind me. I could tell that he was ready to get it together and be honest with Oliver and with himself, but he would keep holding back until it was clear that Oliver was in the same boat. 

         Setting Luna’s leash down in the kitchen isle, Oliver caused Luna to drop her tail and tilt her head in confusion. Wasn’t he going to take her out? I made a mental note to go out with her later for a long walk, but right now, Oliver and Noah needed to have the conversation they’d been avoiding for months. 

          Oliver let himself fall onto the sofa, pushing the blanket that he and Noah had used during the night to the side without bothering to fold it. His green eyes met mine. Then, his gaze finally shifted to Noah. 

         “Come here,” Oliver said to Noah, patting the spot next to him. 

         Noah sat next to him, a huff coming out from him, his arms resting unpreoccupied between his legs. It took him a moment to turn his head toward Oliver, but when he did…

         They held each other’s gazes for a while. I don’t know what they felt in that moment, but I was certainly feeling the anticipation, my heartbeat increasing with each passing second. 

         Oliver raised his arm and then his fingers were touching Noah’s chin and lower lip. There was a question in his eyes, something that only they knew what it meant. 

         Then, they leaned into each other, and they kissed. 

         My breath caught in my throat, but as their mouths moved against each other, I found myself flooded by a sense of relief and… excitement. Was this supposed to be wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it. I was enjoying it very much, feeling pride for my boys and pride at myself for having achieved this. 

         Though they appeared entirely oblivious to my presence in the room, their movements seemed to align with the path I hoped they would follow. 

         As I contemplated where to position myself to observe the unfolding scene in that summer morning, Noah sank to his knees between Oliver’s legs, deftly undoing the laces of his sweatpants until he slid them down, taking his underwear along with them to his ankles. 

         A muttered curse escaped Oliver’s lips, betraying all the tension that had been following us since days prior. 

         Noah raised his eyes at him before daring to put his hands on his length. 

         “Is this what you want?” Noah asked him. 

         If he really wanted an answer, he didn’t wait for it. 

         His mouth swallowed his length, and within seconds, Oliver was leaning back on the sofa, clutching at the pillows with clenched fists, his lips parted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

         Had I imagined this scenario before today? Yes, I had, but never had I voiced it aloud, nor di I anticipate witnessing it, in all honesty, especially not amidst the chaos of the day’s events. 

         I was about to climb onto the counter to get a better view of Noah pleasuring Oliver when Oliver’s green eyes caught mine. 

         “Doll,” his voice was ragged, breathless, “why don’t you come over here and join us?” 

         Uncertain of his intentions, I approached them cautiously, licking my lips. Oliver gestured toward the corner of the room, his chest rising and falling as Noah continued his ministrations between his legs.  

         “Jesus Christ,” Oliver muttered before mustering the strength to focus back on me. “Doll, sit down and touch yourself. Don’t stand there watching us. This isn’t some damn show.”

          Noah hadn’t even lifted his head from Oliver’s lap, his attention entirely consumed by the task at hand, when he said, “Do it. Now.”

         Taking a deep breath, I settled onto the corner of the sofa, positioning myself to their view. Oliver’s gaze roamed over me, his struggle evident as Noah continued, relentless. 

         “Feet on the sofa. Panties off. Let me see you,” Oliver instructed, his voice restrained, indicating he was not far from the edge. 

         I complied, feeling a slight shyness creeping in. This was a scenario none of us were accustomed to. Slowly, I parted my legs, and Oliver raised an expectant eyebrow, silently urging me on. Without hesitation, I grasped the hem of my oversized shirt and lifted it, revealing the black thong I wore underneath. 

         “I said—” His voice was cut off abruptly as Noah took him deeper, to the back of his throat, “off,” Oliver growled, his demand leaving no room for negotiation. 

         With a quick movement, I lifted my hips and removed my thong, spreading my legs open to their gaze. As my fingers found their way to my clit, tracing soft circles around it, I sensed that we were in for a wild morning.  

         Barely two minutes into the act, Oliver let out a primal growl, his head thrown back, hands gripping Noah’s hair tightly as he pressed him against his crotch. With a soft ‘pop’, Noah released him, drawing in a deep breath and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 

         “Don’t tell me that was your first,” Oliver said, “because there’s no way I’m going to believe you.”

         Noah chuckled, his laughter momentarily dissipating the heat in the room. The sound would have relieved whatever remnants of tension and fear remained inside of me were it not for the fact that I was about to come myself. 

         “Definitely a first time,” Noah replied with a tilt of his head. Then, as if sensing my arousal, he turned his head towards me, and his smile fell. 

         He stood up, his hungry faze traveling from my face down to my exposed pussy. He had been so focused on Oliver that he hadn’t noticed the spectacle unfolding on the other side of the sofa. 

         Without uttering a word, Noah walked towards me. He didn’t need to bend down or extend an arm; he simply removed my hand and then, he just… touched me. 

         “You’re a mess,” he acknowledged, his fingers dragging slowly through my folds. 

         He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted me, causing the burning sensation inside of me to only intensify, threatening to consume me if I didn’t get their hands on me in the next few seconds. 

         “Oli,” Noah called out, glancing over his shoulder. “You good? She needs to be rewarded, don’t you think?”  

         “Sure she does,” he agreed, pulling up his sweatpants and running a hand through his hair. “Sit back,” he told Noah. “I’m going to enjoy this. Doll, do you want to ride Noah?” 

         “I don’t think you have to ask,” Noah added, a grin spreading across his face as he extended his arm towards me. 

         Grasping his hand, I moved myself onto his lap. Noah’s hands found my hips beneath the hem of my t-shirt, while Oliver took hold of my right hand, bringing it to his lips. 

         “You need to be rewarded for doing so good to us.”

         “Right?!” I exclaimed, raising my eyebrows at him with a smile. It wasn’t lost on me that he had been denying his desire for Noah to pleasure him for months. These men and their stubbornness… 

         “And you’re such a good, good girl to us.”

         “She is,” Noah agreed, his voice a whisper as his hands guided me onto one of his thighs, pressing me down against him, my dampness spreading onto the fabric of his sweatpants. 

         “Oh.”

         “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Come on, baby. Use me,” he urged, his hands steadying me with a firm grip on my hips. 

         “But…” I began, my face flushing crimson. 

         “I’ll fuck you in a moment, but I want you to use me first,” he insisted, his voice filled with desire.  

          Feeling self-conscious under the intense scrutiny of both men’s gazes, I opted to press my mouth to Noah’s as I began to grind against his thigh. He tasted like Oliver and the experience made me dizzy. Noah swallowed my moans eagerly, while Oliver urged me to go faster, his hand caressing my ass enticingly as I moved myself on top of Noah. 

         Lost in a haze of pleasure, at some point Oliver grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me towards him so that he could kiss me passionately, allowing Noah a breather.

         Eventually, I became a whimpering mess, my hands sliding down to find Noah’s bulge. I stroked it a few times with my open palm before deciding I couldn’t wait any longer. With deft fingers, I unlaced him and freed his cock. 

         Noah’s hand in my waist steadied me. 

         “You sure about this?” The question was directed to Oliver. There was concern in his voice. 

         Oliver dismissed it with a shake of his head. “That pussy is not going anywhere. It’s ours. So go on. Take her.”

         Noah nodded. I whined in his arms, hoping that he would just let me get him inside of him. 

         “Condom?” He asked, still directing his questions to Oli.

         Oliver disappeared briefly, returning with a condom package that he handed to Noah. However, I took it from his fingers. 

         “I’ll do it,” I offered, taking the package and swiftly sliding the condom onto Noah’s cock. 

         Lifting my hips slightly, I positioned myself above him and sank down, moaning softly, a melody that echoed in Noah’s ears and Oliver’s too. 

         “God, you’re so beautiful,” Oliver murmured in awe, watching each of my expressions like a hawk.  

         Resting my head on Noah’s shoulder, I began to move my hips in a rhythmic motion, gliding up and down, front to back, performing a dance on top of him that ignited a bigger fire inside of me. The intensity heightened when Oliver sneaked a hand between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit with precision. 

         “Come for us, babygirl,” Oliver said, his voice a seductive whisper. 

         Unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure, I surrendered to the sensations, especially as I felt Noah pulsating inside of me. His grip tightened on my hip, his other hand tangling in my hair as he pressed his face against my neck, emitting a primal roar against my skin as he released himself into the condom. 

         I dug my nails on his shoulders through his t-shirt as my own orgasm crashed over me, the waves of pleasure overwhelming me as Noah’s pulses still filled me up and Oliver’s fingers continued their relentless assault on my clit. 

         It took me a moment to find my voice amidst the euphoria. I asked Noah if he was okay, and he responded with a sloppy kiss on my jaw, a bright smile spreading across his face afterward. 

         I glanced at Oliver, who was watching us with admiration despite our dishevelled state. Not that he looked much better himself. 

         After nuzzling against Noah’s chest for a moment, I shifted myself towards Oliver. Wrapping my arms around his neck, half of my body still remained in Noah’s lap. Noah lifted my shirt to uncover my ass, giving it a playful slap before caressing it and dropping his head back with a contented sigh. 

         “Good talk,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice and eliciting laughter from all of us. 

         “Yeah,” Oliver agreed with a chuckle. “We should have more breakfasts like this.”

         Our moment of levity was abruptly interrupted by Luna’s barking. 

         She stood in the doorway, looking frustrated that we had completely forgotten about her. 

         “Oh, shit,” I said.

         Yeah, our bad habits were just about to get worse. 

SNIPPET FOR THE EPILOGUE

As I ascended the stairs, Luna faithfully trotted behind me, her tail wagging with excitement. When I reached the threshold of the room Oliver used as a study, a place where Noah and he often used to spend time composing music together, I found both of them leaning over the screen of a MacBook, engrossed in something. However, Oliver quickly closed his laptop as soon as I entered the room.

"Is something wrong?" I inquired, noticing the sudden shift in their behavior.

"Nothing," they replied simultaneously, their responses lacking conviction.

I raised an eyebrow. Noah brushed past me, planting a kiss on the crown of my head before casually asking about our trip preparations. It was clear he was attempting to divert the topic.

"What were you doing?" I pressed, sensing there was more to their interaction than they were letting on.

"Nothing. Just discussing some things about work," Oliver replied tersely. "I'm sorry. That was the last of it. Let's enjoy the trip now."

The attempt at convincing me was a total failure.

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[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 4

Secrets Exchanged

Part 1 | Part 5 | Table of Contents | Read this on A03

Characters: Ace x reader WordCount: 9k (buckle up! this is a long one!) CW: alcohol mention

You just had to get through this strategy meeting, and then you could avoid Portgas D. Ace for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t be so hard. You had done this a thousand times, as the lead strategist over all the divisions. Ace being wouldn’t make that much of a difference. 

If you thought about it, the second division strategist was actually a demotion. It was significantly less intense. Two years ago, your job had been to review strategy plans and find flaws in them. Now, you just had to present plans and get them picked apart by the other divisions. 

You thought about going to wait for Marco at the commander’s common room, but you didn’t want to risk seeing Ace yet. So you walked to the strategy meeting alone, with a few minutes to spare. 

Only a few commanders and your father were in the room, but you found Marco there with an empty seat next to him, so you sat down beside him. 

“You should really sit with Ace,” Marco urged quietly. You began to steam at his suggestion, so he quickly added more. “Strategists sit with their commanders on the other side of the table. And the commanders who didn’t have strategists present sit over here.”

You ignored him, shuffling through your papers to find the list of names you’d be presenting. You were so nervous for this meeting. You had done this hundreds of times with much higher stakes, why were you nervous now?

“Y/N,” your father called from the head of the table. You paused your work, looking up at him to acknowledge that you were being spoken to. “I’d like to talk to you privately after this meeting.”

There was no trace of anger in his voice, but you were still concerned over the private meeting. You couldn’t let that show though, you had to keep a cool exterior. If anyone picked up on your anxiety, they would question you and your abilities. You couldn’t afford that, not now.   

You nodded once to signify you heard him, but you still didn’t speak to anyone. You simply looked back down at your paper and continued to give one last look over your report until the meeting began. You saw people trickle in, with an occasional double glance at your placement next to Marco. 

Eventually everyone had arrived. Everyone except your commander. 

“Damn Ace,” your father bellowed. “That boy is always late.” 

“Must be with someone,” Blamenco mumbled. “He’s been busy recently.”

“There was a lot of noise coming from his room last night,” Thatch noted.

“Noise?” someone questioned, but you didn’t see who. 

You were looking at your papers, but you could feel a few eyes shift over to you. You could feel your skin start to bubble, and you took a breath to keep your cool. It didn’t matter if Ace was sleeping with someone else. He could do whatever he wanted to. It shouldn’t bother you what, or who, he did in his free time. But it did. 

“I can go get him,” Marco groaned, finally rising from his seat. 

“No,” Whitebeard said, rather firmly. “His strategist can go.”

You were so focused on appearing to look normal, it took you a few seconds of silence to realize that your father was talking to you. You glanced around the table, and found all sets of eyes on you. 

“Me?” you asked, rather stupidly. 

“You are his strategist, aren’t you?” Your father asked, looking at you. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m his babysitter,” you mumbled. You heard a few snickers from around the table, which brought you a bit of pride. 

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice was dangerously close to anger, and you could see a few of the newer commanders tense. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumbled, rising from your seat and slinking out the door. 

Every step towards Portgas D. Ace’s room felt harder than the last. You found yourself hoping you’d meet him in the hallway, or he got his dates mixed up and would be running to the meeting. But that wasn’t the way Ace did things, which you knew from experience. 

You stood in front of his door, hesitant to knock. You didn’t want to know who was on the other side of this door. You didn’t want to see Ace after he had been with someone else. Or worse, see someone else with him. Your stomach twisted into a thousand knots just thinking about the possibilities. 

But you had to do it. Perhaps it would be better to just get it over with. So you knocked. 

There was no answer. 

You knocked again. “Ace!” you shouted, banging on the door. 

The door swung open, Ace’s freckled face inches from yours. He looked rough, like he hadn’t slept at all in the past 24 hours. You wondered if this was how he looked yesterday, when all the commanders came and grabbed him as you hid under the covers. 

“Y/N.” Ace’s breath was warm on your face, and you took a step back. “Just the lady I wanted to see! Can I show you something?”

“We have a meeting. A strategy meeting,” you said. “The one I worked really hard for? That one. Do you remember?”

His eyes grew wide at your words, and it was clear he had lost track of time. “Shit,” he said. “Shit. Shit. Shit! I’m so sorry.”

“We need to go.” You started to turn around to walk down the hall. “Now.”

“Wait!” He grabbed your wrist as you turned, and you almost burned him for touching you. Almost. 

“I want to show you something,” he begged. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”

“I don’t want to see who-” but he yanked you into his room before you could finish your sentence. 

His room was empty. Well, empty in a sense that there was nobody else inside his cabin. But it was filled with woven strands and half made hats, and new shelves had appeared on his walls since yesterday morning. Whatever he was doing last night, it wasn’t a person. 

“What is this?” you asked. 

“Shelves. Hats. A little thing.”

You hadn’t even noticed the decor strewn across his floor. You were too consumed with the hats and the shelving. It was a garland of wooden flowers all strung up on a piece of long leather cord. Each of the wooden flowers had been hand cut and painted, and they were all unique. It was beautiful, you had to admit. 

“Why?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. 

You scoffed in disbelief. “You can always sleep.”

“I couldn’t last night. I-” he hesitated, looking at you for a moment before his eyes darted away. “I just couldn’t.”

“We need to go, Ace. Tell me about your weird midnight projects later.”

“Wait! Okay let me show you just really quick. Please.”

“Ace,” you hissed. A piece of you was curious, but you knew everyone was counting the moments until you were back. 

“The hats I’m making for Little Oars, right? I made him one, but it's starting to get old, so I need to make a new one, you know?”

“Ace-”

“And the shelves are for the shells. They’re everywhere, I know. I need to take better care of my stuff and organize things better, so…shelves.” He held his hands out, showcasing the shelves he built. 

“And the decorative thing was just…I dunno. For fun. For you.”

“For me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You don’t have a lot of stuff in your bunk.”

“I prefer it that way,” you said. 

“But now you can have this too,” he explained. 

You wanted to take it. You could tell he put a lot of effort into it. But your own preservation was key. 

“I don’t like flowers,” you lied. 

“You do,” Ace argued. “I see you smell them every time you pass the garden.”

Your heart raced. “Ace-”

“I know. Creepy. Whatever. Commanders are supposed to give a personalized gift to their strategist when they join. This is my gift.”

Your cheeks flushed with pink. You were about to decline again, but he picked up the garland and shoved it into your hands. 

“No returns,” he said. “If you try to return them, I’m going to hang them up in your bunkhouse myself.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled. You held them gingerly, not wanting to ruin his hard work. You looked over them, admiring all of the detail he had done. It was hard to believe he did this in one day. 

Ace watched you for a moment, and then gave a nervous laugh. “I think we should head out, or more people might come looking for us.”

“Shit!” you hissed. “The meeting!”

Both of you took off towards the command center. Luckily you had to pass by your bunkhouse, and you stopped in briefly to drop off your garland of flowers. You tucked them safely in your bedside drawer, to keep them away from lingering eyes and curious hands.

When you walked back into the command center with Ace, you saw that a few people had shifted around the table. Thatch had taken your seat next to Marco, leaving the only open seats next to one another. You scowled at Thatch, but you took your seat next to Ace without any argument. Your papers were at your new seat, at least that oversight hadn’t been missed. 

“Now that everyone is present,” Whitebeard said as soon as you and Ace took your seats. “Shall we begin with the strategy proposal?”

You nodded, passing out a copy of the division breakdowns and a rough outline of the plan as you began to explain. 

It went well. It barely lasted 20 minutes. There was no pushback from any commanders or the other strategists in the room. Everyone was in agreement that your strategy was airtight. It was clear that the commanders still trusted you completely, even though you had been away for two years. 

You ended the meeting with the promise to reevaluate the day before, when Namur got updated schematics, and the rest of the table agreed.

“Nice work,” Ace congratulated you, holding out his hand for a high five. “I’ve never had a meeting go that fast before.”

You grinned at his compliment, and gave him a high five in celebration.

“You slept practically the whole time,” you teased. 

“No! I was just resting my eyes!”

You giggled at his defensiveness as you gathered up your things. “Sure, whatever you say, commander.”

“I sense sarcasm,” he grumbled, which only made you laugh harder. You both stood to your feet and started to leave, when your father called out your name.  

“Right!” You stopped in your tracks, turning back around to face him. “Sorry, sorry. Coming!”

“Let’s go lover boy,” Marco mumbled to Ace, pulling him out the door. 

You hoped your cheeks weren’t red enough to give you away. Even though it was only your father left in the room, you didn’t want him knowing about whatever you and Ace had going on. Not that there was anything going on.

Your father stared at you for a long while, towering above you. You stared back, waiting for him to begin speaking. 

He chuckled to himself after a bit. “I see you're getting back into ship life again.”

You shrugged. “Some changes from being on land, but it’s been an easy transition.”

“How do you like being in the second division?”

He was watching you. Extremely close. Looking for any hint of a lie or nervous behavior from you. 

You chose to answer truthfully, crafting your answer with just the right language.  “Honestly? I haven’t don’t much with the division as a whole. But I’ve missed strategizing. It was kind of fun getting back into it.”

He squinted at you, aware of what you were doing. “And Ace?”

It felt like a careful game of chess. You couldn’t keep your face completely neutral; it would be obvious that you were hiding something. But you also couldn’t completely react to his words, or else it would show that something happened. 

You chose to scrunch your face in slight disapproval. “How honest do you want me to be?”

“Completely.”

“He seems like a good commander who can rally people when they need their spirits lifted. He cares about his family, that’s clear. But…”

You sighed, looking at your dad. “He’s pretty stupid. And he’s always falling asleep.”

Your dad bellowed out a fit of laughter at your comment, and you could feel the air lighten a bit. You had chosen to move the right piece in your chess game. 

“He is definitely a character, thats for sure,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes before he spoke more seriously. “But how do you feel about him?”

You gave him a blank stare. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t act dumb. How do you personally feel about him as an individual?”

“Oh,” you said. You had to think quickly. Tell the truth, just not the whole truth. “He’s fine, I guess. I don’t know him very well.”

You saw a glint in your father’s eyes, and you knew that he had some kind of information which contradicted your statement. 

“I see,” he said, watching you closely. You resisted the urge to look away from him. If you did that, he would know for certain you were lying about something. 

“Are you happy with your position?” Your father asked you. 

You nodded. “I enjoy it.”

He hummed at your answer, thinking for a moment. “Do you prefer it to your old job?”

You had noticed that your old position hadn’t been filled. Marco seemed to have taken over as the lead strategist in a sense, but he wasn’t as thorough as you had once been. 

“It’s certainly less work,” you said, instead of an answer. 

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Are you offering me my old job back?” you countered skillfully. You hadn’t been the lead strategist for no reason. You could see what game he was playing. 

Your father sighed, refusing to play the game any further. “If you’d like it back, it’s yours.”

You wouldn’t belong to any division, just like before. Nobody would be in charge of you except your father. You’d be able to get away from Ace. It seemed like the perfect escape from all your troubles. 

And yet, you found yourself wanting to turn down the offer. You wanted to stay in division two. You had enjoyed the freedom you had gotten since your return. You had more time to enjoy yourself than before, even with a big mission coming up. 

“Can I think about it?”

Your father nodded. “I would be worried if you gave me an immediate answer. By sunrise tomorrow?”

“That works great. Thank you.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” he asked. 

“Your decision to wait for an appointment offer until after my first strategy proposal makes sense. If any commanders had concerns about favoritism, those are surely gone now. I do have one question, though.”

Your father raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. 

“What would you have done if I didn’t get appointed to second division strategist?”

Yoru father smirked and gave a light chuckle. “Listen, brat. You’re not the only one playing chess here. I wasn’t about to take away your promised position without giving you another one. Got it?”

An understanding passing between you both. “And you say you don’t play favorites.” You gave him a cheeky grin, the best way you knew how to genuinely say thank you. 

“Get out of my sight,” he groaned, but you could hear him laughing at your comment as you left. 

You skipped out of the room, happy with the knowledge you gained during your time with your father. He was always looking out for you, even if you didn’t feel like it. You had a big decision to make, and you needed to find Marco to talk about it all. He was always a good sounding board when you needed to make decisions. 

You were still skipping as you turned the corner, and ran straight into Portgas D. Ace. 

He grabbed your arm to steady you. “Hey there, smiley. What’s got you all excited?”

“Nothing,” you sang to him. Whitey still sat in the back of your mind, though her tears seemed more like a distant memory at this point. 

You gave him a boastful smile. “My father is offering me my old job back.”

“What?” his voice was sharp when he spoke, as if someone had stabbed him with a knife. 

His fingers dug into your arm. You weren’t expecting to see such devastation and panic in his eyes. It was so startling you took a step back, burning his fingers to make him let go of you. 

“As the lead strategist” you explained. “Just like before.”

“You can’t take that,” Ace’s voice was desperate. “You’re the second division strategist.”

“Well, yeah. But you can always get another one. You have plenty of great-”

“I don’t want another one,” he hissed. 

“I’ll still be looking over everything and offering up strategies, Ace.”

“It won’t be the same and you know that.” You got the sense that he was mad at you, though you weren’t entirely sure what you had done wrong. This was supposed to be good news.

“Why are you so angry with me?” you asked. “What were you expecting?”

“I was expecting you to stick to your word!” Ace answered, his voice rising with every syllable. 

You weren’t sure what facial expression you were wearing, but Ace seemed to realize his mistake in his tone and his words. 

“Sorry I reacted like that,” he apologized. “I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“Clearly.” You stepped to the side to continue walking down the hallway, but Ace blocked your path. 

“Did you tell him yes?” He asked. His widened eyes looked at you with a strange mixture of pain and hope. “Are you leaving the second division?”

You knew not to be the one to break eye contact with your opponent, but it was painful to continue to stare at him. So you did the one thing you had never done: you looked away first. 

“I told him I’d give him an answer tomorrow morning.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and his lonely eyes bored into your soul as he looked at you. “Is there anything I can do to make you stay?”

You wanted to collapse from the pain that blossomed in your heart. Portgas D. Ace was so easy to fall for. It made sense why everyone adored him, why everyone constantly spoke of him. He was someone who would make your heart grow three sizes, and then would drop it into the ocean the next day. 

“I just need to think about my options,” you admitted softly. 

“Got it.” His voice was full of sadness, and he stepped to the side to let you by. 

You didn’t want to walk past him. Every bone in your body told you to stay there. But you took one agonizing step after the other, and walked past him down the hallway. 

You wanted him to stop you. A part of you even wanted him to rush up to you and kiss your lips, like you had seen happen so many times during the plays in Wano. But he didn’t run to you, or call out your name. He didn’t even move. 

You had planned to go talk to Marco, but you weren’t interested in that now. You didn’t even want to have to make this decision anymore. You just wished someone else could make it for you. 

But yaybe someone could. Someone who wasn’t invested either way. Someone who would be able to help without judgment. 

You roamed the ship, searching for the sixteenth division commander, until you finally found him at the stern of the deck. He was surrounded by friends-ones you didn’t feel comfortable sharing this information with.  

“Izou, can I speak with you for a moment?” 

The man looked startled to see you addressing him, but he quickly regained his composure. 

“Of course,” he said smoothly, standing to his feet. “How private do we need to be?”

“More private than this,” you admitted as you both walked away from the group. “But less than a soundproof room.”

He smiled at your joke, probably one he often heard from your father as well. “If this is about yesterday morning-”

“It’s not!” you quickly said, your ears and cheeks tinting red at the mention of it. “I…need some advice.”

“Is this about your appointment to second division strategist?”

“Kind of…” You found an unoccupied portion of the deck and sat on the railing. “Pops offered me my old position back.”

“And you don’t know what to do now?”

“Right!” you exclaimed. The words came rushing out after that. “I really like being the second division strategist, and the workload is much easier to manage. Plus, I really like working with Ace-” Izou raised an eyebrow, but you rushed on before he had the chance to say anything. “-but it is kind of a demotion from where I was. And if i was lead strategist, nobody would be in charge of me, and I’d be right under Pops again. And I liked what I used to do. It was stressful, but I helped people and I was good at it.”

Izou hummed, looking out across the waves. “Can I ask you an insensitive question?”

You sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Do you only care about status?”

Your mouth dropped open at his question, but he stared at you waiting for an answer. 

“No.”

“Well,” Izou chuckled. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you hissed. You were regretting coming to him. 

“You seem much happier in the second division. You had nothing bad to say about it except for the status it put you at. If status is all you care about, then you should be the lead strategist.”

You frowned, trying to think of a rebuttal that didn’t give your feelings away. 

“It’s not just about status. There are other things at play.”

Izou raised an eyebrow at you. “You mean other people.”

“Have you always been this observant?” you grumbled, sulking at being read so easily. 

Izou only laughed and ruffled your hair. “Your secret is safe, kid. But you need to be honest with yourself in a decision like this.”

“We didn’t even sleep together.”

“I know,” Izou smiled. “I believe you.”

You were quiet for a long time, trying to work up the courage to ask Izou one last question.

“You’re observant with everyone on the ship, right?”

Izou sighed. “Just ask the question, kid.”

You stared out at the sea and took a deep breath. “Is he as bad as everyone says he is?”

“Ace?” Izou asked, and you nodded. He hummed, trying to think of the proper way to respond. “He used to be. But he’s calmed down in the past few months.”

You looked at Izou curiously. “What changed?”

Izou laughed. “You’ll have to find that out on your own. I’m not one for gossip. Only advice.”

Advice. Right. You had come here for advice on the strategist position. Ace was always distracting you, even when he wasn’t around. 

“The position. What would you do?”

Izou smirked. It was clear he had been waiting for you to ask that question. He pulled out a golden coin. 

“Heads, you move up to lead strategist. Tails, you stay at division strategist. You stick with whatever the coin tells you. Got it?”

“You’re going to let a coin decide?!” you yelled, but he already threw it up in the air. 

It fell into his hands, and he quickly flipped it onto his wrist, covering the result. Your gut twisted into a ball of nerves. 

Izou looked at you, but your eyes were fixated on his hand. “Show it,” you murmured. 

“Without thinking, answer one question for me.”

“Sure,” you said, still transfixed on what the result would be.

“What do you want it to be?”

“Division strategist,” you said softly. You hardly processed his question before you realized you already answered. 

Your eyes grew wide and you looked up at him in shock, but he was grinning back at you. He revealed the coin to show a shiny golden head. Lead Strategist. Your heart sank.

“You have your answer,” Izou said. “You should stay a division strategist.”

You gave him a confused look. That's not what the coin had chosen.

“The result of the coin doesn’t matter,” Izou explained. “What matters is the feeling you have when the coin is in the air. What matters is the side you hope for.”

He held out the coin for you, and you took it. You turned it over several times, but it was just an ordinary coin. You had seen thousand just like this, it wasn’t special.

“Keep it,” Izou said. “For when you need to make decisions.” He left you alone, Still staring at the coin. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, hearing his footseps recede. Could it really all be that easy? If you flipped the coin again, would you be disappointed with the same result?

You threw the coin in the air, and as it hung there, you still wished for the division strategist position. Even if it wasn’t the most logical choice, it was the one that would make you the happiest. That’s what you had to go off of now. 

Your stomach rumbled, and you realized you hadn’t eaten all day. With the meeting this morning, you had been too nervous to eat, and your mind had been so preoccupied since then, you almost missed lunch. There was only about 20 minutes left of lunch, so you went to the dining hall to find whatever scraps were left over. 

There wasn’t much, but you found enough to make a light meal. You prepared your plate, and found an empty table to sit at to eat your lunch. You had seen a few people you knew, but you weren’t up for chatting much at the moment, so you ate alone. 

After a few minutes, someone sat across from you. Blonde hair, and a tattoo across his chest. Marco. 

“You up for chatting?” he asked, looking up from his meal at you. He sounded tired.

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“Okay.”

That was all he said. The two of you ate together in silence, each in your own world while you mindlessly shoveled food into your mouth. 

It was moments like this when you appreciated Marco. He knew when you needed quiet, and you knew when he needed it. There was a comforting reassurance that you were both able to exist together in silence without there being any tension. 

You finished up your plate, and cleaned up your area. You were about to get up from the table when Marco finally spoke to you.  

“You okay?” Marco asked.

You nodded. “You?”

Marco sighed. “Long day.”

“Hard day in the clinic?” you asked. You hated small talk, but it was tolerable with Marco. 

Marco rolled his eyes. “Let's just say some guy cut off his hand.”

“His hand?!?” your voice carried through the dining hall, and a few people stopped to look at you. 

Marco shot you a look. “Try not to announce it to the whole ship next time.”

You giggled. “Sorry, sorry. Tell me more!”

“I don’t even know how he did it,” Marco groaned, covering his face. “Some accident in construction. I was able to reattach it, but it was exhausting.”

“Incredible,” you breathed out. 

“Miserable,” Marco replied. 

The door to the dining hall swung open, and you looked over to find Ace in the doorway. The coin in your pocket grew heavy. 

“I’m out,” you grumbled. 

You didn’t look back at Marco as you walked away from him. You were sure he was making some sort of face, but you weren’t interested in seeing it. 

You threw your dishes in the kitchen sink and headed out, trying your best to ignore Ace on your way. Now that you saw him, you realised you were still hurt by the way he had spoken to you this morning. 

“Y/N,” Ace called. He reached out for you, touching your arm just for a moment before he pulled away. “Can we talk?”

“No.” You kept walking. You had to get away from lingering eyes that were in the dining hall, especially Marco. 

He didn’t follow you. A part of you was a little disappointed, but you were mostly relieved. You didn’t want to talk, and you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. You had already made up your mind. He didn’t need to persuade you any further. And, though you would never admit it, the devious side of you wanted him to sweat a little bit longer. 

You walked into your father’s office, where he was having a meeting with many familiar members of the crew. You found Whitey in the crowd, and you smiled at her briefly before acknowledging your father. 

“Ah, Y/N,” Whitebeard’s voice boomed. “Back already?”

“I made a decision,” you said, walking over to stand beside him. 

“I see. Let’s go talk, then. Are you good here for a moment?”

A few of the members nodded, and you and your father went into his private office. 

“I’m going to stick with the second division for now,” you said as soon as the door was shut. 

Your father did his best to keep a neutral face, but you could see surprise flicker in his eyes. He hadn’t been expecting that answer. 

“I see,” he said, pondering what to say next. “May I ask what led to your decision?”

“Honestly,” you sighed. “I’m happier being in the second division. It’s less work, I like the people, and I still feel like I can provide assistance and feedback to other division strategists in my current position. I’d be happy to take on the strategist duties that Marco took when I left, but I would like to remain in the second division while doing them.”

Your father watched you carefully, and you did your best not to show your hand. You knew he was aware of something extra you were hiding, he just wasn’t sure enough to ask. 

“Let me talk to Marco and see if he’s willing to give up those duties, but I don’t see a problem in your proposition. Thank you for giving me such a swift answer.”

“Of course. If I may-”

Your father nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

You nodded to Whitey as you left, praying that she never discovered what you had just done. 

You ate dinner alone, and went to bed early. It had been a long and draining day, and you simply didn’t feel like being conscious any longer. 

The bad thing about a bunkhouse is whenever someone comes into the room, the door creaks and the lights flick on, and you were always stirred from the edge of sleep every time. 

After the third time, you huffed in frustration and rose from your bed. You needed a night time walk to reset your body and your brain. You opened the door to find your commander standing outside of it. 

His eyes widened when he saw you. “Great, I really look like a creep now, huh?”

“Ace.” Your mind blanked on any other words. You couldn’t think of what else to even say to him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his voice soft. “If that’s okay?”

“Sure.” You were trying hard to not let him know he had surprised you, but you could feel your ears starting to fry your hair. 

He led you out onto the deck and up to the crows nest, and you followed him quietly the entire way. It had been later than you expected; the moon was high in the sky and only a few people remained on deck. The night air whispered against your skin and caused goosebumps to rise. You thought about turning up your internal temperature, but the cool air made you feel more alive.

You got up the ladder, and you found several blankets and pillows strewn about the small area. It looked rather cozy, especially for such a chilly night. The area was so small, it was almost impossible for you to sit down without touching Ace in some way. You took a seat across from him and wrapped a blanket around yourself, enjoying its soft touch. 

“Sorry I had to bring you up here,” Ace said, handing you a bottle of sake and opening his own. “I had first watch tonight. I tried to make it as comfortable as I could.”

You nodded, but still couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You weren’t sure what to tell him. Should you yell at him for being so rude to you this morning, or ease his worries by telling him you were staying? You opened the bottle and took a swig, trying to think about what to do.  

“I want you to stay as the second division strategist,” Ace whispered. He was avoiding your eyes. He was dangerously close to touching you, but he made himself as small as he could so you could have your own space. You almost leaned into him, desperate for his warmth, but you refrained. 

“So do whatever you need to,” he continued to say. “Yell at me. Curse me. Ask me whatever you want, and I promise to answer truthfully. Please. Do whatever you need to ease your mind.”

You almost told him you had already made a decision. You opened your mouth to say it, but then you thought better. Now was your opportunity to get answers. 

“Why did you make me the division strategist?”

“I already-” Ace stopped himself, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I spent a year hearing all of these great things about you. And a few intimidating things. You intrigued me, and the moment I met you I knew I had to have you. On my team, I mean. I saw how calculated and effortless your movements were, and I knew the stories weren’t just stories.”

You hummed, still not satisfied with his answer. “So why are you trying to hold me back from helping everyone? That's what I would be doing as a lead strategist, isn’t it?”

Ace was silent for a minute, and you could see him trying to curate the right answer. 

You glared at him. “Honesty, Ace.”

He sighed in defeat, realizing he had been caught. He took a long drink before answering. 

“Because I’m selfish. And a little jealous. And Whitebeard entrusted you to me, so I would feel a bit like a failure if you left before we even went on one mission. I know you’ve only been here for a week or two, but it still would look bad to have you instantly transfer out of my division.”

You gave a dry chuckle. “Since when do you care about the way others see you?”

He smiled, and you could see sadness plainly across his face. He didn’t even try to hide it. “I’ve always cared. I just try not to show it.”

Your heart gave a painful ache at his words. You could relate to him in that sense. You always had to act like people’s snide comments about you being the captain’s daughter didn’t bother you. You knew you had gotten to your status by your own merits, but other people never seemed to see it that way. It always hurt, but you had to pretend you didn’t notice the sharpness of their words. 

You almost asked him more, or let him know you understood his pain. But you chose to move on, taking another drink from your bottle. “Why’d you join the crew? How’d your path cross with pops?”

Ace groaned at your question. “Anything but that question.”

“Nope,” you said stubbornly. His distress at the question intrigued you. “You said you’d answer any question.”

“I know.” he put his head into his hands to cover his face. “Just don’t hate me, okay?”

“No promises.”

He peeked up at you with a worried expression, and you laughed at him. He gave an uneasy smile, still unsure if you were being serious or not. 

“I had my own pirate crew, and I was making a name for myself on the Grand Line. So…I tried to kill him. Pops.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise at his words, and then you let out a fit of laughter. “You’re joking!” you said, gasping for air. “What made you think you could kill him?”

“I thought I was hot shit!” Ace said, trying to defend himself. “I thought if I killed him then everyone would take me seriously. I tried several times. Even after he brought me and my crew onboard.”

You were still howling with laughter, amused with the fact Ace thought he could ever do such a thing. You could feel your skin warm and glowing, your magma bubbling beneath the surface with your emotions. 

“I know,” Ace said, taking a drink of alcohol. “It’s so embarrassing looking back on it! He told me to join him, to be his son, and I tried to cut his head off! I obviously didn’t get very far.”

“God, Ace.” You were finally starting to calm down, wiping tears from your eyes. “You really are stupid.”

Ace laughed nervously. “In hindsight, it was pretty dumb. But I thought I was invincible.”

You giggled again, looking up at the sky. It still wasn’t an ideal night to stargaze, but the moon was starting to wane, which meant the perfect night was coming soon. 

You thought of the first night you laid with Ace on the deck and watched the stars, and the night he carried you back to his room. You thought of your father’s proposition, and how you had turned it down. And you thought of Whitey. What would she think, seeing you here like this. You took another long drink of alcohol. It burned going down, but you needed the courage. 

“Whitey,” you whispered. At some point yours and Ace’s legs had made contact with each other, and you felt him stiffen at her name. “What happened with you all?”

“Y/N, please.” Ace’s voice was pained. “Please not that.”

You both stayed quiet for a few minutes, staring at the sky. You knew it had nothing to do with your appointment or your position, but this might be the only time you would get it out of him. Still, it was quite cruel of you to put him in such a position. You were at a crossroads of whether or not to forget the question, when Ace spoke. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard about my reputation on this ship,” Ace finally said, his voice barely a whisper. 

You nodded, still looking at the sky. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the freckled-face boy. You weren’t sure why. 

“Well it’s true. I slept around a lot. A few months ago, Whitey started giving me attention. And I gave it right back to her. The flirtation, the soft touches and little whispers, the looks when you think nobody is looking…it was fun for me. I enjoyed the chase more than the actual catch, if you know what I mean.”

You nodded again, though you didn’t really know what he meant. Your stomach churned with envy just hearing him talk about it. 

“She wanted something more. A real relationship. I just-I dunno. I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t want that. I became a pirate to be free and to do whatever I wanted. Whoever I wanted. I liked sleeping around with a bunch of people. All different cultures, backgrounds, shapes and sizes.”

“Ace. Get to the point,” you said sharply. You felt like you were going to be sick hearing him talk about all of this. 

“She wanted a relationship, I didn’t. We both thought we could change eachother. But it never happened. Eventually the game got boring with…no reward So I moved on.”

Ace took a deep breath, and you could tell he was trying to figure out how to word the next part of the story. 

“She was devastated. The whole thing really hurt her, that was obvious. Not to sound too cocky, but it turned out she wasn’t the only one who fell in love with me. I just never noticed the trail of broken hearts I was leaving. I guess I’m just too irresistible.” He gave a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “But it made me realize my actions were hurting people, so I took a step back and limited the flirting and sleeping around. I never meant to hurt anybody. I just wanted to have fun.”

You finally pulled your gaze from the sky and looked at him. He was staring at the ground, wearing a look of deep shame. 

“I know she’s one of your closest friends, so I don’t blame you for hating me now that you know. But that’s the truth, I swear. If you don’t want to work in the second division, I won’t blame you. Whitey left too after it all came out.”

You pressed your leg against his, trying to get him to look at you. But his eyes stayed glued to the ground. 

You nudged him again, ignoring the pit that was forming in your stomach. “I don’t hate you,” you said softly. “Thank you for being honest.”

“Yeah.” He sounded miserable. Like he didn’t believe your words at all. He was picking at his skin, trying to calm his nerves.

You knew you should let it go. You had caused him enough painful reflection tonight. But the question was burning as strong as alcohol in the back of your throat.

“Do you regret it?” you asked, unable to contain your curiosity.  

“No." His answer was immediate. "It was what I needed at the moment. And Whitey was a wake up call. I’m glad it happened to me, even if it hurt other people in the process.” He snorted a laugh that held no humor behind it. “That’s kind of shitty to say out loud.”

“Maybe,” you agreed. “But I know what you mean.”

“Thanks.” He still refused to look at you. 

“Hey.” You nudged his leg again, but he didn’t respond. 

“Hey!” You bumped against his arm this time, leaning in closer to him in the process. “Will you look at me?”

He didn’t for a while, but his eyes finally moved up and landed on your face. 

You gave him a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t be mad with what you were about to say. “I told pops I was staying in the second division.”

His brows knitted together in confusion. “Staying?”

You took a drink. “I like it better than my old job.” You gave him another playful nudge. “Better people.”

“You’re joking,” he scoffed, but his eyes widened, and they looked much more hopeful than they had a moment ago.

“I turned him down right after lunch,” you admitted, a soft blush appearing across your cheeks. 

Ace’s mouth feel open in shock. “Lunch? But then-”

“Ace!?” A booming voice called from the bottom of the mast. “Is it safe to come up?”

“Shift change already?” Ace mumbled, looking up at the moon. “I’ll be damned. Rakuyo! You can come up!”

You heard the seventh division commander climbing the ladder, and your heart raced at the thought of him finding you here. What would he think? Would the rumors with Ace start up again because of you? You weren’t sure those rumors ever really died out, but you didn’t want to fuel the fire more. 

Rakuyo’s head popped up between you and Ace, and it was clear that he was startled to see you there. A sly smirk grew across his face. 

“Oh, darling.” His voice was full of mischief. “Ace, seriously? Up here?”

“We were just talking,” you rushed to say.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rakuyo said, waving you off as he stepped onto the crow’s nest lookout. “That’s what they all say.”

You looked at Ace, who’s eye twitched slightly, but he said nothing in his own defense. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled. You chugged the rest of your sake quickly, desperate to get out of the conversation. “I’m going to bed.” You lowered yourself into the hole and climbed down the ladder. 

“Can you throw my pillows down?” Ace asked his fellow commander, lowering himself down after you.

Rakuyo laughed. “You know the rule dude. Whatever stays up here, stays until morning.”

“Dude,” Ace whined. “Thats what I sleep with.”

“Should’ve taken the all-night shift then.”

Ace groaned. “Seriously?”

“Mmmm, so comfy. And alcohol!? Ace, you shouldn’t have!” Rakuyo jested, and Ace gave up on his endeavor of getting his sheets back. 

You and Ace walked back to the bunkhouses quietly. The walk back gave you a lot of contemplation, and a lot of time to work up your courage. He only spoke again when you were at your door. 

“So you’re really staying?” Ace asked as your hand was on the doorknob. 

“Wait here,” you whispered, and you opened the door just enough to slip inside. 

You snuck into your room quietly and grabbed your comforter and pillows from your bed. You hesitated for a moment, and then reached into your bedside table and shuffled around, looking for the bottle of wine you had stashed in there. You finally found the glass bottle, and slipped out the door with the comforter, pillows, and wine. 

You handed off the wine and pillows to Ace, and got a better grip on the comforter before you looked up at him. 

“What are you doing?” Ace asked, looking at the things you had handed off to him. 

“You don’t have bedsheets,” you said simply, your cheeks warm. “So we’re using mine.”

“I can’t take your bedsheets,” Ace said, looking around dumbfoundedly. 

“Relax,” you hummed, starting to walk towards the commander's chambers. “I’ll sleep with Whitey. It’s not a big deal. But we’ll finish that wine first. I have more questions to ask you.”

Ace groaned, but followed you through the halls. “I thought we were done with honesty hour.”

“No way! I have so much more to learn about you, Portgas D. Ace,” you giggled his name. It felt so sweet on your lips. “You’ve piqued my interest.”

“I get to ask questions too, then,” Ace argued. 

You chuckled. “Maybe. We’ll see how generous I’m feeling.”

Ace scowled at your response. You stuck your tongue out at him, which made his mood lighten a bit.

"You're really staying?" Ace asked again, eager for you to finally answer him.

"Yes, Ace!" you said, smiling at him. He seemed to carry himself higher after you answered his question, and the tense air between you two finally cleared.

You danced down the hallway with a newly found lightness, your comforter still in your hands. You felt comfortably warm, and just a little tipsy, though you weren’t sure if that feeling was coming from the alcohol or from Ace being so close to you. The only thing you truly knew was that you were throwing caution to the wind, and hoping that you weren’t as stupid as your best friend.

After a short walk, you reached his room and quietly slipped inside. As he dropped the pillows onto the mattress, you found a place to sit on his bed and wrapped your comforter around you. Ace sat down across from you, opening the bottle of wine and taking a long drink before handing it to you. 

“So,” he started, wiping the wine from his upper lip. “What else do you want to know?”

You weren’t really sure what else to ask him, so you looked around his room for inspiration. The half-made hats were still strewn around, but you already knew the answer to that mystery. 

“The shells,” you said, looking around. “Why do you have so many?”

“They’re from every island we visit,” Ace said, watching you look around the room. “I make sure to grab one every place we see.”

“Why?”

Ace shrugged. “I dunno,” he admitted. “Something that nobody else can get. It’s mine and it’s free. Every island has shells.”

“Even winter islands?” you questioned. 

“I’ll settle for stones too.” He pointed at a pile of rocks on his shelf.

They all looked like normal rocks. Just smooth stones that had been worn down by the current of the ocean. He could’ve gotten them from anywhere. Even the shells were mostly common ones you could find on any beach. Someone could easily swap them or steal one and he’d never be the wiser. But they were obviously important to him. 

“I’m going to show them to my little brother when I see him again,” Ace explained. He was staring at the shells, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. “I’m going to tell him all the stories that come with those shells over a nice bottle of sake.”

You liked this side of Ace. He was kind and gentle and sincere. He had a little brother and he loved shells and he wanted an adventure worth telling. 

You picked up a shell on his bedside table. “What’s the story with this one?”

He looked over and saw the small conch shell in your hand. He smiled fondly, and you felt yourself relaxing.

“Narrow Arrow Island,” he said. His hand reached for the shell, and he turned it over in his hands. 

“Me and Thatch had this big mission, but we totally misread the map to find the town we were going to. We ended up walking 5 miles in the wrong direction. We only found out we were going the wrong way because some bandits tried to rob us and ended up telling us!”

You giggled at his story. “How do you mess up five miles in the wrong direction?”

“The island was narrow as an arrow! It wasn’t named that for no reason!” he said defensively. “And we had the map upside down!”

“You’re lying!” you squealed out, nudging him playfully. 

“I swear.” Ace crossed his heart with his index finger, which only made you laugh harder. Ace couldn’t help but join you in laughing at the outlandish story. Even if he knew it was true, he understood your skepticism.

“Okay, okay,” you said, finally calming down. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Ace asked, looking at you with a puzzled expression.

“Ask me anything,” you said, puffing your chest out and taking a long swig of wine. “I can take it.”

Ace thought for a moment, running through his options. He had so many questions, but one had bothered him for a while. 

“Why’d you leave?”

“Pops told me I could have the second commander position if I was stronger,” you said smoothly. It was an answer you gave so frequently, you almost believed it yourself. 

But Ace squinted at you in suspicion. “There’s more though, isn’t there? I imagine you could’ve gotten stronger on the ship if that was the only reason.”

He was good at reading people, you had to admit. Or at least good at reading you. You sighed, taking another drink. You’d need it for this answer. But you owed Ace honesty and vulnerability, since that’s what he had given you all night. 

“My entire life I was always Whitebeard’s Daughter. Everyone looked at me like I didn’t earn my place; like I only got there because of who my father is. Ever since I could remember, wherever I go, his name follows me. Which is fine, most of the time. I love my dad, and I know he loves me. But those looks from others…the hatred, the envy, sometimes a mix of both. I just got sick of it. I needed to know who I could be without him towering over me.”

After you finished, you glanced nervously at Ace to see his reaction. His face surprised you; his mouth was agape in shock, and his eyes seemed to glisten with understanding. He cut his eyes away from you after a moment, deep in thought. 

“I know what you mean,” he mumbled. 

You laughed at his statement. “You know what I mean? And how’s that?”

He glanced over at you nervously, opening his mouth again to say something. He seemed to change his mind though, and reached for the bottle in your hands instead. 

You handed it over him, contemplating on if you should push the question or not. You got the sense that Ace truly did know what you were feeling, but if you tried to open that door, it wouldn’t budge.

“Tell me about your brother,” you offered instead. 

Ace’s eyes lit up. His entire body jumped to attention at your question. He looked like a little kid in the candy store, thrilled to have an opportunity to talk about something he truly loved. 

“Luffy,” he said. “That’s his name. He should be setting out to sea any time now, actually. We made a pact when we were seventeen we’d become pirates. His seventeenth birthday is in a few months, so I’m sure I’ll see him soon. You’ll have to meet him! He’s like nobody else you’ve ever met before, I swear.”

He went on and on, telling you about Luffy’s straw hat and their adventures in the jungle together. They were raised by mountain bandits, which was surprising to you since Ace had such proper manners. He talked about his brother until you both finished the bottle of wine, and you found yourself smiling along at every story. 

“I look forward to meeting him one day,” you said, a sleepy smile on your face. 

“Oh crap,” Ace groaned. “I talked way too much about him, huh?”

“No! I really enjoyed it all, truthfully.” you sighed, rising to your feet. “But I think I do need to go to bed now. It’s pretty late.”

“You can stay, if you want,” Ace offered. His already rosy cheeks turned into a deep shade of red.

You wanted to stay. You really did. It would be so easy to slip back into bed and cuddle up against him. You wanted nothing more than to fall asleep against his warm, bare chest. 

But you couldn’t. He was your commanding officer, and while one night in his bed could be explained away as a fluke, two nights would become a slippery slope. Plus, your absence in the bunkhouse wouldn’t go unnoticed. Whitey was painfully aware of your movements, and the last thing you needed was to hurt her even more. 

“Not tonight,” you said, attempting to give him a smile. “Whitey’s waiting for me.”

He flinched slightly at the name, and you felt a tinge of remorse bringing her up. 

You started walking towards the door, trying to think of something else to say. 

You turned, smiling at him. “Let’s do it again soon though, okay?”

He perked up at that, nodded in agreement. “I’d like that.”

You opened the door and slipped out in the hallway. “Goodnight, Ace,” you whispered. 

“Night.”

You silently shut his door and headed back to your own bunkhouse, unaware of the eyes that were watching you go. 

tags! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog (if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #✧˚ace✧˚ #cozage

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 5

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession. possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 5 Warnings:

Snow and his vile unclean 18+ thoughts, the blackest of mails lol, manipulation

Replay Level 4

Ready? Level 5 Start:

In Coriolanus’s mind, he can recall, word for word, the meeting he had requested Strabo Plinth to initiate with Acacius Innis.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called for this meeting, Acacius,” Strabo Plinth had said as soon as the servants had cleared out.

Acacius Innis and he were seated on finely upholstered chairs inside the Plinth patriarch’s office, with Strabo’s intricately carved oak desk between them, served the highest quality tea his money could buy. Coriolanus simply stood beside him, obediently there to chime in only when needed. He needed to let Plinth senior handle Innis senior – this is, after all, what Strabo did best.

In a few ways, the patriarchs were similar: they both don’t drink alcohol, they both come from the Districts, and they share an almost uncanny flair for business. But that is where their common ground ended, as far as Coriolanus was concerned. He had the Plinth patriarch essentially wrapped around his finger. The Innis patriarch, however, had always been wary of him; he could tell. He could feel Acacius’s perceptive eyes on him the entire time he’d been at your home, even if he wasn’t necessarily looking – eyes that seemed to see right through people. You shared that with him too, apparently, given how similarly you behaved with him during your Academy years. On top of that, Acacius wasn’t one to flaunt his riches as extravagantly as Strabo, as evidenced by his taste for a simpler wardrobe and refusal to hire a cook and stay-at-home help. District, his roots may be, yet he seamlessly blends well with Capitol’s high society.

And there he was, casually sipping a cup of tea as he considered Strabo’s question. He put it down with the grace one would expect from an Innis. He may spew the occasional acerbic remark, but his social etiquette is flawless.

“I had an inkling what it was about during our lovely dinner,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

Strabo said as he stirred his tea. “Ever the sharp one, aren’t you?” His light chuckle echoed in the room. “Very well, then. I’ll get right to the point.

“I’d like to propose a union between our houses: Snows - and the Plinths in conjunction – and the Innises by way of marriage.”

Coriolanus had his eyes glued to him the entire time: if Acacius Innis felt anything at all about this proposal, he remained unfazed, his face a friendly, blank mask.

“My heir, Coriolanus,” he gestured to him beside his seat, “And your niece will make the perfect match. I understand they both now have a... camaraderie of sorts; we’d only be giving them a push forward in the right direction.”

The Innis senior’s eyes were hard, but he bobbed his head slowly as if he were weighing the offer.

Strabo continued speaking, but it was at this point that Coriolanus could guess Acacius’s response, although he still had some hope in his heart that he was wrong about it.

“I can’t think of any other couple more attractive. Nellie’s just turned twenty, right? Coriolanus, here, turned twenty several months ago. Both young and bright and excelling in their own fields. Imagine the wedding of the century, two of the most powerful clans of Panem in union...your Nellie will make a fine wife for my Coriolanus, just as he will make a dutiful husband for her. Think of the grandchildren, Acacius. They’d be adorable and frighteningly smart for their age...”

Coriolanus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Acacius Innis will never be swayed by the thought of having grandchildren. Then again, he didn’t know what he would be swayed by; the man was an impenetrable wall.

“Hmm. Does Coriolanus consent to this?” Acacius turned to him. If Coriolanus Snow was surprised by his question, he never showed it.

“I do, sir,” he replied with conviction. “I hold your niece in the highest regard.”

Acacius hummed before picking up his cup of tea and drinking.

“He’s being humble, Acacius,” Strabo confirms. “You’ve seen them together, they’re practically a couple. So, what do you say?”

“No.”

Coriolanus felt his eye twitch.

Innis Senior could’ve just punched him in the face, and he could’ve gotten less of a reaction.

Even Strabo was at a loss for words. “'No?’ Acacius...think of what this union could mean for our heirs. Their combined might will one day rule all of Panem. You see, Coriolanus is setting his eyes on politics. Not just any political seat: he aims for the presidency. I have no doubt he will ascend to the greatest of political heights.”

Could he not have begun his pitch with that, instead?

Acacius smiles wryly. “I’m sure Coriolanus will achieve anything he puts his mind to, Strabo. He has the makings of a powerful man,” he sighs. “But this isn’t about his ambition. This is about Nellie’s life. I cannot, in good conscience, choose for her on her behalf.”

Strabo tilts his head with a questioning look. “Surely, Nellie will understand your choice, given you have her best interests at heart?”

“Precisely why I could never do that to her. She trusts me and my judgement, and I can’t betray her trust like that.”

“What if I told you I could make you a shareholder at my company’s military weapons division? We have, after all, profited greatly for the past decade. Our financial forecasts project even greater growth for the next few years, thanks to reinforced peacekeeping policies. I can guarantee you a hefty slice of the pie."

Acacius clasps his hands together and leans forward on the desk with a polite smile.

“My sincerest apologies, Strabo. I cannot agree with this proposal of yours, and I don’t think there is anything you could offer me that will make me accept. It would be unfair to my niece to seal her fate without her consent. You understand hard work, more than anyone else. I raised Nellie as my own after her parents died, and I’ve worked hard for her to have choices in life where most don’t. I’d like to imagine that extends even to matters concerning matrimony. Whoever she chooses to marry, if she chooses to marry at all, shouldn’t be decided among three men in a room, over a meeting she wasn’t not even allowed in.”

Coriolanus felt a vein in his temple throb. Of course, he was livid. What made him even more furious was the fact that Strabo had the gall to look moved by Innis senior’s speech.

He wanted nothing but to strangle the both of them then and there.

But, as usual, Coriolanus Snow was a man of utter composure. He said nothing, kept his face a blank mask, as he listened to Strabo basically taking Acacius’s side.

“Very well, Acacius, my old friend. Your niece is lucky to have you as a father figure. We do what we can to protect our children, and for that, you have my utmost respect.”

A thought crossed Coriolanus’s mind at Strabo’s words.

Acacius had just inadvertently revealed his weakness. You.

Not such an impenetrable wall, after all.

As if pouring salt over an open wound, Strabo patted Coriolanus on the back and added, “Coriolanus will just have to earn Nellie’s hand the hard way, I’m afraid. Oh, and do come to my birthday party this Friday night at the Palisades? The invitations were mailed out last week, and if you’re not busy, you can bring Nellie with you.”

“Friday, you say?” Acacius asked as he got up from his chair. “I might have to take a raincheck, my friend. I’m spearheading a new defence division at the Citadel, and I expect Friday will be hectic for me. My well wishes to you today, and your birthday gift I shall send via delivery.”

Strabo acknowledged Acacius’s smile of apology with a nod. “Of course, duties to the Capitol come first.”

The elder males shook hands firmly before they all exited the room, led by Innis senior.

To call this a disappointing turn of events was an understatement.

That sweet smile you had on your pretty little face as you bid him good night was his only solace for the rest of the evening. He wished he could see more of that smile; he wished he could have it bottled or kept it in a jar, perhaps, so he could look at it anytime he wanted. Just the thought of having something of you with him all the time made him feel a little better. Obviously, having you to himself all the time would beat having just something of you, but he hasn’t quite gotten to that yet. A certain relative of yours just made sure of that.

He thought he had a plan to get you. He knew he had no chance at winning Acacius Innis over if he alone had asked for your hand himself, but he had high hopes that with Strabo Plinth leading the conversation, he’d be more open to the idea of an alliance between your families by way of marriage. So much for that well-thought-out plan.

No matter: he had one other weapon he had at his disposal. One more leverage on you – and that obstinate prick you call an uncle – that could prove so devastating, it could have you begging him to take your soul for him to keep the dirt from surfacing.

All he had to figure out was his timing.

***

You and your uncle never talk about what transpired at the Citadel the day he asked you to bring those files. You’re still on the fence as to whether he had set you up to uncover what could plausibly be a conspiracy surrounding Sejanus’s death, but the facts you’ve gathered surrounding the incident prove too hard to overlook.

Had your uncle already known about it for a time, and had he been sitting on the information until then? Why did he choose to reveal it this way if he had indeed set you up? Why did he keep it to himself then?

And then there’s that...thing...that thought about your friend that you know you’re not supposed to entertain because of how outlandish it sounds, but a thought you can’t seem to get rid of, nonetheless.

That nagging suspicion that just won’t go away, no matter how hard you try to rationalise.

You keep going back and forth between what you can remember in Sejanus’s letters and the information Dr Kay had revealed; how Sejanus had been entangling with rebel forces; how the peacekeepers in District 12 had been ordered to gather catch jabberjays for scientific research; how he could’ve confessed to someone he trusted enough to be comfortable around with; and he could’ve been recorded by any of the peacekeepers who had access to the jabberjay remotes; how only one of the jabberjays conveniently turned up dead only a day after the birds arrived at the Capitol…

…How the only person Sejanus mentioned he trusted the most the entire time he was in District 12 was Coriolanus Snow.

Everything you know about every event that happened in District 12 circles back to him somehow, and you hate yourself for not being able to come up with a different conclusion.

Everybody says you’re smart, but look where it’s gotten you, now: with more questions and nowhere to get answers from.

Thursday. Three days have flown by since that day.

Every day for three days since you’ve woken up drenched in sweat, having dreamt of jabberjays flocking all over you, screaming your name and Sejanus’s, and Coriolanus singing to the birds a song you don’t quite understand. Today, however, your brain decided to kick it up a notch because it felt you had too little going on.

It began with Coriolanus humming a melody that doesn’t make sense when you hum it in real life, and the birds flying all around you and screaming your name and Sejanus’s in bloody murder. Sejanus made an entrance, facing you from only a few feet away. You could see from where you were that he was trying to open his mouth as if he wanted to say something from beyond the grave, but no words came out. Instead, out came from his parted lips a beak, then the head of a bird with purplish-blue plumage, followed by the entire body of the accursed bird. The bird took one look at you, then darted straight in your direction, before you woke up without much ceremony.

Fuck those birds and fuck these dreams. Just another bad thing that catapults you to another day in another one of those moods.

You have to be out, somehow. Function in society, no matter how much you hate it. No matter how much said society sickens you; even if said society would no sooner have you hanged as traitorous trash faster than you could show an ounce of condemnable humanity.

You made a promise to Sejanus to move on, and so for today, you’ll try.

There is work to be done at the University, what with summer classes underway. The class guides would’ve been taken care of by now courtesy of your uncle’s interns, but you have another task as his official apprentice – a task you can never bring yourself to abandon.

Your living room phone rings a little before noon, just as you’re trying to graze on cornflakes to try and get your day going. You temporarily leave your bowl to answer the familiar voice on the other line.

“Nellie. I haven’t seen you in days.” Coriolanus sounds a tad put out.

“Coryo.” A twinge of guilt finds its way to your voice. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been – ”

“Hiding yourself away again? Nellie, is everything alright?”

“Yes, Coryo, I’m fine.”

You can hear him heave an exasperated sigh. “Nellie, we’ve talked about this. You can freely speak your mind with me. Tell me anything.”

Anything, as in, did-you-kill-Sejanus-anything?

“I know,” you respond flatly.

Maybe you can ask him instead of moping, you think to yourself. He might know something. He might know of anyone else your friend had grown close with in District 12 apart from him. That way, maybe you could finally put away these awful thoughts and decide a course of action. Maybe you can then tell Ma and Strabo Plinth, and leave it up to them to make the next move. Maybe you can find that peacekeeper yourself and kill him with your bare hands.

Wishful thinking.

Ask him. Do something, just so you can shut that stupid voice up in your head blaming Coryo for every little unhappiness you encounter.

“We can go out today before I go to the Citadel,” he offers.

Thank goodness he beat you to it. “Really? You have time?”

“For you? Of course, I do. What do you think of getting ice cream?”

What do you think of telling the truth? “Sure, that sounds nice.”

He gives you an address and a time: The Headless Confectioner’s at two. The same candy shop and creamery your uncle gets all his sweets from. You accept.

There’s plenty of time to get some work done before then.

University life dwindles during the summer break. The only ones that are there are the professors and the few summer students looking into getting advanced credits or making up for failed subjects, allowing the school to breathe for a while and enjoy the little quiet it gets every academic year.

The lab is thankfully empty when you arrive, with your uncle currently conducting a class. You’re comforted, if only a little, at the sound your keyboard makes as you type steadily, entering countless lines of commands that will eventually make up the program.

If only there was some way you could run some tests on it besides the usual debugging.

By one thirty, you’re out of the lab, foregoing your usual car ride in favour of walking to The Headless Confectioner’s. It’s a bit of a long walk, but you figure you need the time to clear your head.

Plan your next more wisely, your uncle had said.

Perhaps you have been approaching this dilemma the wrong way. Maybe, just like all manners of mathematical problem-solving, the problem has to be examined with utmost objectivity. Your friendship with Coryo aside, the facts remain, and you’re simply trying to piece them together to come up with a logic-based conclusion.

Maybe then, you wouldn’t be so upset about asking your friend about it.

The walk gives you plenty of time to get your facts straight and construct your questions. Impartiality or not, you don’t want to needlessly hurt your friend like you did at the Plinth’s Corso home. Sejanus was his best friend, and he most likely was there on the day of his execution.

You are well too aware how witnessing death firsthand can drastically change a person.

You get to The Headless Confectioner’s and find Coryo waiting for you outside the shop. His eyes light up and his lips curl upward the moment he sees you approach. You return his smile and you both waste no time lining up the ice cream booth, where people are already milling around for the best ice cream in the city. He offers to walk you back to the University, to the park near the Computer Sciences College you both frequent.

“You’re awfully quieter than usual,” he observes. You’re both sitting on the same bench where he first offered you his friendship.

The friendship that’s entirely responsible for keeping you from spiralling down further.

“Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind,” you say.

He tilts his head at you, casually placing his arm on top of your part of the backrest. “Tell me. You asked if I had time, and I always would, for you.”

You give him a dry smile and breathe deeply. Ask him now, or forget ever asking him again.

“I went to the Citadel. Uncle asked me to bring something for him. I got lost, and...” you swallow that lump in your throat as you note how aptly he’s listening. “And I stumbled upon the jabberjays.”

“Hm. Interesting little things,” he mutters.

You fidget on the hem of your coat absently. “I was told that it was the peacekeepers who had caught them and they were sent here to the Capitol two days before Sejanus’s execution. A day later, one of them died.”

Your friend offers no insight, so you go on. “Coryo, someone recorded Sejanus confessing to something. Someone from the Capitol caught that recording, which led to his death.”

You turn to face your friend to find that his expression has gone rigid, his eyes are hard and cold when he meets your gaze head-on.

This must be just as painful for him to discover.

“I’m sorry that I’m bringing it up now, Coryo,” you say, your lips trembling, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Objectivity, you remind yourself.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to relive this, but you have to hear me out,” you continue. “Someone from your ranks did that to him.

“Coryo, please,” you implore him. “Try to remember. I’ve run the math in my head over and over but it’s the only explanation I can come up with. It must be someone from your ranks, anyone at all, who might’ve gotten close to him in his last days...anyone whom he trusted enough to confess what he was doing...”

Was it you? Please, tell me it wasn’t. Please, tell me.

Coriolanus’s lips are thinned, his face unreadable and his shoulders now drawn back, yet his eyes never leave yours. Maybe he takes pity in the way you look with your eyes red and tearful, for his features eventually soften, his eyes contrite and his lips parted as he takes a handkerchief out of his breast pocket. He lifts your chin with his thumb and forefinger and wipes your tears with the cloth.

“Nellie, dear, I’m sorry. I really am.” His voice breaks with emotion as he squeezes your chin lightly. He leans into your space further, saying, “I wish I could take your pain and carry it for you. I hate to see you suffering like this.” He lets go and pulls away with a final dab of his handkerchief on your cheek, leaning once more against the bench.

“But I also wish with all my heart I had the answers you seek. Sejanus withdrew within himself in his final days. What battles he faced inwardly were his to bear, and it seems that he kept it that way until he passed.”

‘Liar’ is the only word that floats in your head.

“He was friendly with the other peacekeepers, Nellie. But as far as your deduction has led you, you’re correct: it could’ve been any of them,” he says, dipping his head a small nod. His eyes flick to yours with a strange glint, as if an idea had just crossed his mind. “Maybe there was someone he mentioned in those letters he sent you.”

Your blood runs cold at his words. You could feel it drain from your face, your heart plummeting as your pulse races, watching a corner of his lips twitch upward.

He knows about the letters. He knows.

But you reason within yourself: this doesn’t prove he had him killed. This doesn’t prove anything.

Right?

That look on him. An unmistakable look of victory. Even as you’re both sitting down, he towers over you, staring down at you with those now-hollow eyes. You suddenly don’t feel safe anymore, but you fight the urge to cower.

“Of course, I know, Nellie,” he says as if he read your mind just then. “He never mentioned anything to me about your correspondence, but after his death, I couldn’t help but look through his things for answers as to what he did to himself and why he did it.”

You mean you ransacked his stuff.

“I found a letter he failed to send tucked under his pillow. Addressed to you, Nellie.”

You almost flinch as he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering to play with it.

“Except, it was written in this odd manner, and none of it made sense. I realised, given how smart you are, it must’ve been an idea of yours to write in code. I knew the both of you enough to tell you weren’t really writing about ‘daffodils’ and ‘dandelions dancing in the sunset.’”

A part of you wants to correct him that it was Sejanus’s plan, but you can’t admit it without incriminating yourself. He lets out a chuckle, but it’s humourless, just like the smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He traces a line on your cheek, making him only one swift move away from strangling you.

“I asked myself, ‘What could my two friends be hiding, writing in code?’” You feel immense relief when he pulls his hand away.

“I knew I had to keep it hidden, because, if Sejanus actually wrote to you about his intentions to rebel and you kept it to yourself...if anyone else got a hold of it besides me and they cracked the code, you’d be labelled as complicit with his actions.

What kind of best friend would I be if I hadn’t? If I let it get into someone else’s hands? I’d be dishonouring Sejanus’s memory if I threw you to the wolves.”

Coriolanus’s smile is cold, bordering on sadistic. Behind those cerulean eyes dance a flicker of madness you know you’ve always seen before but had been actively ignoring. Could your instincts have been right about him all along? Is this a thinly veiled threat from a man who had been wearing a mask the entire time and had now taken it off in front of you?

Has your entire friendship with him been a farce?

“I want to keep you safe, my dear Nellie. Let me keep you safe,” he insists, his icy stare not matching his intentions. He crosses his legs, observing you with that ghost of a sneer, as he waits for you to squirm in your seat.

“I have just been appointed an official gamemaker. No more internships. That means I now have enough power and influence to keep that promise. But I can’t do that if I don’t even see you half the time.”

You gulp, trying to keep your composure. You will not give him the satisfaction of seeing you fumble. “What are you saying, Coryo?” You whisper hoarsely.

Coriolanus sighs and gets to his feet, his hands inside his pocket as he gazes far into the lake.

“All I’m saying is I need you close by for me to keep you safe.”

Then he turns to face you, towering over your hunched form on the bench as if he’s cowing you into submission. His voice lowers by a fraction as he speaks.

“Transfer your apprenticeship to me. I need you by my side, Nellie, as my friend, and now as my ally.”

You look up at him, his unblinking, unrelenting gaze keeping you in place. That wasn’t a request, you notice, but a command.

An order that promises repercussions if you don’t obey.

“I need an innovator like you by my side. Someone I can trust fully. I have always trusted you, Nellie. It’s refreshing, don’t you think? The way we speak our minds with each other? A free-flowing exchange of ground-breaking ideas. That’s the kind of partnership I want.”

In other words, he’ll keep the letter a secret if you do what he wants.

“You already have my uncle in your team. There is nothing I can do that he can’t do a thousand times better,” you reason, even if you see no point in reasoning with someone who’s already made up their mind.

“That is true, for now, at least. Did you know your uncle has been promoted to his own new division? Cybersecurity. We’re being ushered back into a better digital age. Something the Capitol has overlooked because of the war. He’ll be too busy for his gamemaking duties, so he’s letting go of them. Think of me as your new direct report, should you accept. I will take care of the transfer. Your tenure under your uncle’s wing will simply be carried over to mine,” he says as he paces in front of you.

Uncle Cas has been promoted? That’s good for him and all, but something in you can tell they must want him out of the way. Of what, exactly?

“There’s this...project your uncle has been working on.”

Your posture instantly stiffens. They want Uncle Cas out of the way to take control of his program. His baby, the very same program he has crafted with so much care and has entrusted you to keep from the wrong hands.

“I saw your notes, Nellie. You had a hand in it. Except, there hasn’t been much progress on the project. Dr Gaul wants that to push forward. Think of what it could mean for the twelfth Hunger Games.”

You draw your eyebrows together at the sheer betrayal he wants you to commit. “Coryo, this is madness. You can’t expect me to go behind my uncle’s back and hijack his work.”

“Sugarplum, no one is going behind anyone’s back. All you have to do is ask him. He’ll understand. This is your uncle’s legacy, and it will be yours, too. The Innis legacy. Besides, he will want you to explore your abilities outside your comfort zone. Come on, do you really expect your skills to improve when he’s keeping you inside that lab, making you label old hard drives and grade mediocre college research papers?”

Chewing the insides of your cheek, you stare at the gravel beneath your feet. He doesn’t appreciate you avoiding his gaze, for he hooks his fingers under your chin once more to look at him. You meet his hard eyes with your anxious ones.

“Nellie, your uncle is a genius. He’s unlike any other I have ever met. But you’re an Innis, too. You’re cut from the same cloth. It’s time you see yourself that way. Think of what we can accomplish together. Work for me, work with me, I get to keep you safe, and you get to show everyone in Panem what the Innis blood is made of.” He flashes a grin, baring a sliver of his perfectly white teeth.

Like a predator flashing its fangs before it pounces.

“Your place is with me, Nellie. Let me prove it. You and I: we will change the Games forever.”

Your lip trembles as his thumb skims over it. You ask in a hushed tone, “Change it...you mean for the good?”

“For good,” comes his simple reply.

You purse your lips, attempting to wrack your brains for anything that can get you out of this predicament you dug yourself into. You come up with nothing.

“I’ll ask Uncle Cas.” You concede. There is no other choice at this point.

Coriolanus dons on a look of perverse satisfaction. Then, in the blink of an eye, his expression shifts. He’s back to the Coryo you know, with that kind smile and those soft, blue eyes, like he hadn’t spent the entire time with you in the park threatening and blackmailing you to do his bidding. It’s a frighteningly impressive ability.

“Think about it, sugarplum. I have to go, but I will collect you and your response tomorrow.”

Helplessly, you stay rooted to your spot as he bends down to kiss your hair. His lips linger for a short while before he pulls away and vanishes from your line of vision.

You don’t dare move from the bench as you attempt, almost in vain, to curb an incoming panic attack. You squeeze the hem of your coat as you hyperventilate, mentally berating yourself for falling for his trap.

How could you have been this stupid? You just had to ignore every ounce of your subconscious telling you just how nefarious and dangerous this man is that you’ve willingly entangled yourself with.

Everything about your friendship with Coriolanus Snow – every moment spent with him, every word exchanged, every gift he’s ever given – all of it, a spectacular performance, a cunningly planned-out charade designed to lure into his clutches.

Think of Sejanus, you try to soothe yourself. Of his warm hands holding yours, of his warm hugs, and his soft lips as he stole your first kiss...

Your grip on your coat relaxes eventually and your breathing evens out, replaced by frustrated tears and trembling hands.

As you stare into your cup of now-melted ice cream abandoned on your side of the bench, your mind draws a blank, except for a single, all-consuming thought. You still haven’t proven whether or not Coriolanus Snow had your only true friend killed, but you’re sure of one thing now: he was never innocent.

His old self would’ve killed you without question.

The old self he had left behind in the dense forests of District 12 would’ve had a raging fit before he led you somewhere and either shot you or smothered you or poisoned you to death – probably all three, in no particular order – at the mere insinuation that he had a hand in Sejanus’s death.

But he wasn’t his old self, so the fact that it was coming back to potentially bite him like Lucy Gray’s snake only slightly disarmed him. What he is concerned more about is how you, of all people, managed to connect the dots, even if you hadn’t accused him outright. He had gone to great lengths to ensure that it stayed buried, so he’s sure you had almost come to the correct conclusion purely because of your intellect and intuition. He has to admit, you are impressive.

He isn’t his old self. His old self probably would’ve had qualms about digging into dead people’s things and stealing anything of value. But before he returned Sejanus’ belongings to the Plinths, he had all but combed through every crevice, nook and cranny for anything that may prove useful. His new self had been wise enough then to keep that peculiar letter Sejanus had penned, but never got to mail, addressed to you.

He had a hunch about its significance, but he wasn't completely sure until your conversation at the bench that afternoon. It was a little gamble, mentioning that letter, but one that he knew he had already won the instant he saw your face drain of colour at his mention of dandelions (a rather perplexing choice of code). There it was, your little blind spot, exposed so plainly to him. So, ever one for efficiency, he went on further and pushed you a little more to confirm his suspicions: Sejanus had potentially revealed to you his intent to rebel, and you had kept the knowledge to yourself.

Snow landed on top yet again: he had gained the upper hand. A shiver of excitement goes through him at the thought. He’s already used it to get you to work for him – he wonders what else he could have you do for him. You, at his mercy, submitting to his every whim...

This little mistake of yours could prove convenient for him. Gaul had since added more to his lists of tasks. In addition to keeping up appearances by way of dating, she had assigned him to investigate the progress of a top-secret computer program being developed by Acacius Innis. The project has had almost zero progress since its approval, and he is to find out why. And, thanks to his snooping around with your handwritten notes, he had concluded you had a hand in the project as your uncle’s apprentice. He had been charged to keep you close so you could work for the Citadel in Acacius’s stead just in case he proves he’s outlived his purpose.

Now? He’s got three of these tasks all but crossed out, just because you had let your emotions for Sejanus get the better of you.

You should have never mentioned Sejanus to him. That’s an error of yours he’ll have to make you pay for. If there’s one thing he and his old self had in common, it’s the fact that they’re both extremely jealous men to a fault. The drug addict Theophilus Braun figured this out the hard way. Coriolanus Snow can’t have his girl making mistakes for and because of a dead man; you should’ve known better.

You’re his girl. His girl, his bride, his wife.

And by the day after next, he’d make it clear to everyone in Panem, including you, that you are his – taken, off-limits, spoken for. He should’ve done this sooner in retrospect. You’d know by then that you had no business talking or even thinking about any other men, dead or otherwise. You’d figure it out for yourself, you’re smart. It didn’t matter now that Acacius Innis rejected Strabo’s and his proposal of arranging a marriage between him and you. Sure, he had allowed himself a bit of time to stew on his anger at your uncle, but if he gained something but that poorly orchestrated exchange, it’s the fact that the Innis patriarch is fiercely protective of you. An immovable giant, finally revealing its underbelly by accident.

Now, unlike his old self, he’d never let you out of sight or try to gun you down in a crazed frenzy; he’d never allow you to leave his side, and he’d put your useful abilities to work. In turn, your work would be displayed at the Games for the Capitol to admire, and everyone would know that Coriolanus Snow’s girl is more than a fancy arm decoration being paraded to the press and looking pretty at galas.

Coriolanus sighs as he gets inside his apartment. He comes home to the calming sound of quiet, and, making a beeline to his walk-in closet, he puts down the two sizeable boxes he had just picked up from the receptionist. A last-minute request he made to his tailor, conveniently delivered to his new address. He takes his shoes and his coat off and wastes no time inspecting the contents of the smaller box.

What he’s anticipating to see is the dress he had made for you. It has to be nothing less than perfect: it’s Strabo’s birthday party and the Capitol’s richest are going to be there. He had been meaning to formally invite you in person, but he knew he had to be wise about it and not give you room to decline. This is part of your training as his soon-to-be wife, after all: appearing more social and getting used to attending the lavish parties of high society. He had meant earlier to tell you then, that everything would be taken care of including your dress, but the mention of Sejanus genuinely threw him off. In the end, it seemed like waiting it out was the best choice.

The box’s lid comes off: crimson, just like he ordered. Of course, you had to match his tux. It’s a silk slip, flowy, simple, elegant, and most importantly, accurate to your measurements. Or at least, the measurements he got from your housemaid in exchange for but a small sum.

Another stark difference between him and his old self: he isn’t the poor, malnourished, helpless kid who had to settle for scraps and keep up appearances. He has a limitless amount of resources within his grasp now, and he uses all of it to his advantage: this luxury penthouse apartment, allowing him to finally live peacefully by himself, these finely tailored clothing he had grown partial to, even to pay off the maid who had been happy to go behind your back to take your dress size – all of these he now could afford, and more. His old self would’ve turned green with envy.

He’s satisfied with the handiwork despite the rush, and he could already imagine you wearing it for tomorrow: the way you’d turn in it, the way you’d dance in it, the way hungry, envious sets of eyes would ogle at you while he snakes his arm around your waist...

Normally, he hates the thought of having anyone’s lustful eyes on you, but he supposes that’s the price he has to pay for wanting to show you off.

Maybe after the party, he’d bring you here, and he’d get to tear the dress off you, or simply pull it up to your waist and fuck you in it as you’re bent over his work desk...

He isn’t his old self anymore. He didn’t have to suppress these desires in the confines of his own solitude. He makes one phone call, and a woman arrives at his apartment within ten minutes. He was specific with his request: he wanted one that resembled you – except she doesn’t compare to your beauty or your grace. Of course, no one does.

At least she’s wearing a red slip dress like he instructed.

He fucks the whore that night, thinking of you splayed out for him in various ways, wearing that silk crimson dress. It’s quite easy for him to imagine that it’s you because he fucks her face down – in his little fantasy, it’s you he takes several times; that it’s you underneath him, moaning and screaming out his name and begging him to fill you with his cum. He makes her leave immediately after a hefty payment, making a mental note to tell the maid in the morning that the sheets would have to be changed. Having aired out his pent-up urges, he does more work in his home office until he can barely keep his eyes open.

His old self is long dead and gone, and he takes comfort in that as he finally gives in to exhaustion.

The aroma of hot dark chocolate reaches your nostrils and somehow provides a little comfort for what has turned out to be a long day. It’s almost one in the morning, and not a wink of sleep has grazed your presence, so you’re hoping this little treat is going to help put you to bed so you can go back to dreaming of screaming birds, dead first loves and singing peacekeepers.

On impulse, you traipse to your uncle’s office, noting how his dim desk lamp is still on. Not an uncommon sight these days, to have him still awake in the dead hours of the night for many reasons – some of which he refuses to share with you.

You enter his office on a whim; you can’t sleep anyway, might as well.

You also need to talk to him about…that thing. The one Coriolanus asked you to do.

You find your uncle with his face scrunched up in absolute concentration over a chessboard.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks lazily, his cheek resting against his palm on the desk.

You simply shake your head. You offer to make him a cup of hot dark chocolate, which he refuses by a mere gesture to the three colourful mugs sitting near the edge of the table, only obscured by the lamp light not hitting that part of his desk.

“Can I?” you question him, referring to the chess game he seems to be currently playing by himself.

Uncle Cas lets out a hum. “I thought you’d never ask.”

So, you sit and observe the board, assuming black. White is currently in a solid position, having total control of the centre of the board. Your uncle takes his rook to f-one.

You move a pawn to a-four. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Your uncle just makes another humming noise absently as he takes a pawn to f-four. Your pawn captures it immediately.

“You got promoted. Head of the new Cybersecurity division and all that...”

He just raises his eyebrows in derision. “Yeah, lucky me,” he says under his breath as he takes the same pawn of yours with a rook. “How did you find out?”

“Coriolanus told me this afternoon.”

The both of you quietly play your game, your attention dwindling until you notice you’re actually putting pressure on the opposition.

“Uncle, how do I win against an enemy who clearly has all the advantages?” you ask quietly.

For the first time since the game, your uncle looks up, now mildly interested. “Hm. What’s the end goal of this game?”

“End goal?” You’re distracted as your pawn takes his knight. “You defeat the opponent’s king.”

“No, plumcake, the real end goal.”

To focus, you rub your forehead as you scramble for a defence.

“That’s the key,” he continues. “Find out what your enemy wants and use it to gain the upper hand.”

Licking your lips, you sip some of your rapidly cooling chocolate as you watch his queen threaten your position. After a pause, you inquire, “What if I’ve never played a game like this before?”

“Then, prepare to be on the defensive when necessary,” he says thoughtfully. “You’re an Innis. You’ll figure something out.” He takes your pawn on f-five with his rook.

You heave a sigh as you prepare yourself to reveal the truth. It doesn’t matter how he reacts to it, it’s out there now. You made the wrong move, despite his warning, and you’ve nothing left to do but to own it.

“Uncle, Coriolanus wants me to transfer my apprenticeship to him.” You wait with bated breath for him to react.

Uncle Cas stitches his brows, encasing the lower half of his face with his palm. The lines on his face are evident now more than ever; you note how recently he’s lost some weight, and his cheeks are more indented than you can remember even with all that sugar in his diet. His eyes meet yours, his dark circles accentuating his serious expression.

Guilt washes over you. You’re partly to blame for his stress.

“Very well.” He bobs his head once in comprehension. He wordlessly goes back to the game, capturing your knight on e-four using his bishop.

Another thing you appreciate about him: his acuity allows him to read the situation in almost an instant.

“Tell him I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he tries anything funny.”

And just like always, he still manages to make you laugh despite everything.

You move your rook to e-four, on the defensive. “I thought you preferred breaking their legs?”

He just shrugs comically and quips, “I’m the head of Cybersecurity, I’m all about efficiency now.”

Suppressing a chuckle, you observe his rook take f-seven while you transfer your now-vulnerable queen to b-six. The white king, now on h-one, prepares for the endgame. You take your rook from e-four to e-one in what you can now foresee as a futile attempt at mitigating the attack.

Uncle Cas has a point, as always. Moving on the defensive can be an option. After all, you know Coriolanus’s goal now: he wants the program completed, and he wants you for the task. You can just opt to do whatever he wants as quickly as possible, and then cut him out of your life for good.

The white queen finally makes her move to g-six, so you take your bishop to g-seven.

Maybe, you can even opt for the offensive: figure out a way to keep Coriolanus Snow’s slimy hands off the program without alerting him.

The white queen all but slays your poor bishop on g-seven.

Your uncle leans back on his computer chair and declares, “Checkmate.”

“Ah, fuck.” Perhaps you’re not cut out for these kinds of games.

“Language, plumcake. Another one for the road?”

He rearranges the pieces for a new round. He wiggles his eyebrows with a wide smile and adds, “Winner gets the last pint of cherry chocolate chunk ice cream in the freezer.”

You grimace at the thought. “I think I’ve had just about enough ice cream for today, Uncle. How about White Knight’s angel food cake?”

His eyes light up at the challenge. “Oh, you are so fucking on.”

“How come you get to curse, and I can’t?”

He snorts haughtily at your complaint. “It’s unbecoming of a lady.”

He makes the opening move. Pawn to e-four.

Let the games begin.

Enter Level 6

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!!!

Next level includes a ball/party scene because I can't resist, despite risking the cliché 😂😅

Also, the chances of me updating as quickly as I have for the past week is getting slim, what with work now getting busy and mostly the next levels getting more complicated plot-wise. Damn plot be getting out of hand when all I want them to do is fuck 😅😂😭 but I think weekly updates are still feasible...we'll see!!

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

[crippleprophet]

i want to thank you for your post from a few months ago about abandoning the idea that health is good. it's helped me process and unpack just how much the health framework has damaged me (and everyone; you could get multiple phds exploring how the concept of health categorizes and controls bodies!). and those ideas have extended beyond my personal life to my academic and professional writing and my interactions with loved ones - they've reached and impacted a lot of people.

i was a disabled child in a family of career athletes; the health paradigm was deeply engrained at an early age. now that i'm finally shaking those teachings, i've gotten a lot out of reanalyzing ideas i've always framed through a health lens. if it doesn't matter if i "eat healthily," since that's a meaningless concept, then how and why do i choose what i eat? why do i want to stretch regularly, if not because it's healthy and my doctors said it will improve my disability? how does my relationship with substance use change when health is taken out of the equation?

in these questions, i often find there's deeper and more satisfying reasons for my feelings and actions. this process reminds me of my experience with transness, in a way. reconsidering the concepts and assumptions underpinning a framework, deciding the whole framework is useless to you, and exploring what lies beyond it. thank you for opening such a freeing and fascinating door :-)

oh, woah, this absolutely made me cry, i truly can’t express how meaningful this is for me. (as you might know from following my blog lol) i’m homebound & only see two people in person unless i’m at the doctor, so this feeling of connection to other folks in my community is so deeply valuable, i really can’t thank you enough 💓💓

i definitely relate to the sense of rejecting health leading to a changed perspective on, like, everything in my life + prompting more intentional ways of engaging with my choices, routines, etc. following that theme of community, lineage, & ideas that ripple out, i’d love to take the time to mention just a few of the scholars, ancestors, comrades, & friends who have been life-changing for me in this area!

while there is a lot of transformative & vital work within disability studies, there’s still a lot of structural barriers against sick people’s contributions to formal theory + a lot of direct & indirect reinforcement of health as a good thing in the field. so i’ve found in many cases more resonant work in trans studies, mad studies, & postcolonial studies, by people affirming the pathology of their own identities & positions. just a few favorites of mine from within, across, & outside of these fields, in no particular order:

Sandoval-Sánchez, A. 2005. Politicizing abjection: in the manner of a prologue for the articulation of AIDS Latino queer identities. American Literary History. 17(3), pp.542-549.

Fritsch, K. 2013. On the negative possibility of suffering: Adorno, feminist philosophy, and the transfigured crip to come. Disability Studies Quarterly. 33(4).

Barounis, C. 2013. “Why so serious?” Cripping camp performance in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight. Journal of Literary and Cultural Disability Studies. 7(3), pp.305-320.

Abrams, T. and Adkins, B. 2020. Tragic affirmation: disability beyond optimism and pessimism. Journal of Medical Humanities.

Stryker, S. 1994. My words to Victor Frankenstein above the village of Chamounix: performing transgender rage. GLQ: A Journal of Gay and Lesbian Studies. 1(3), pp.237-254.

Sexton, J. 2011. The social life of social death: on Afro-pessimism and black optimism. InTensions Journal. (5).

these were all immensely profound to me, but this last work, following Fanon, was such a complete & total frame shift for me that i feel the need to include some of it here (emphasis added):

This is precisely what Gordon argues is the value and insight of Fanon: he fully accepts the definition of himself as pathological as it is imposed by a world that knows itself through that imposition, rather than remaining in a reactive stance that insists on the (temporal, moral, etc.) heterogeneity between a self and an imago originating in culture. Though it may appear counterintuitive, or rather because it is counterintuitive, this acceptance or affirmation is active; it is a willing or willingness, in other words, to pay whatever social costs accrue to being black, to inhabiting blackness, to living a black social life under the shadow of social death.

This is not an accommodation to the dictates of the antiblack world. The affirmation of blackness, which is to say an affirmation of pathological being, is a refusal to distance oneself from blackness in a valorization of minor differences that bring one closer to health, to life, or to sociality.

[…] In a world structured by the twin axioms of white superiority and black inferiority, of white existence and black nonexistence, a world structured by a negative categorical imperative— “above all, don’t be black” (Gordon 1997: 63)—in this world, the zero degree of transformation is the turn toward blackness, a turn toward the shame, as it were, that “resides in the idea that ‘I am thought of as less than human’” (Nyong’o 2002: 389). In this we might create a transvaluation of pathology itself, something like an embrace of pathology without pathos.

To speak of black social life and black social death, black social life against black social death, black social life as black social death, black social life in black social death—all of this is to find oneself in the midst of an argument that is also a profound agreement, an agreement that takes shape in (between) meconnaissance and (dis)belief. Black optimism is not the negation of the negation that is afro-pessimism, just as black social life does not negate black social death by inhabiting it and vitalizing it. A living death is as much a death as it is a living.

if you want a pdf of any of these & are unable to find one feel free to hmu (although they will likely come with my annotations lol). this was a major topic of my master’s thesis for my disability studies degree (which was actually about disabled trans people, so i love that you connected this process of rejecting normality to transness in your own experience – i relate to that a lot) & i’m also happy to share that research with anyone who’s interested :)

i also have relevant thoughts & reblogs in my “stay sick” tag here (which i’ll add to this post) & my “embracing abjection” tag here + more broadly on my main.

& just a few of the many folks whose work + lives have shaped mine: @kelpforestdwellers @heavyweightheart @librarycards @crutchbutch @gatheringbones

i would also (always) absolutely love to hear more about your thoughts + writing if you would like to share! thank you again for taking the time to share this with me, i appreciate it more than i can say 💓💓

#asks #stay sick #embracing abjection #afropessimism #disability studies #happy tag #ok to reblog <3

[terrifictomholland]

I know everyone thinks I’ve disappeared (I pretty much have, but I actually wrote something! Sliiightly based off of a conversation me and my bf had not too long ago, it’s a complete fluff piece. But with our favourite Tom instead of my bf, or no one would read (maybe you’re not judging by how inactive I am on here lmao 😂✌🏻) anyway, almost 11pm blurbs - here you are 😊

Idk if anyone is even here anymore and not on a hiatus or have completely abandoned ship but some of my mutuals - here you are @spidey-sophie @worldoftom @stuckonspidey @tetralea @duskholland @userholland

—————

You unlocked the door to your shared flat, stepping inside to the sounds of mugs clinking about, an audiobook playing and Tom humming a song to himself. No doubt being in the midst of making some tea.

“Honey, I’m home!” you sing sang only for his face to pop out from the doorway leading from the kitchen to the hallway. “Hi cakes!” He grinned, “you want a cuppa?”

You took off your shoes, placing them neatly beside his. “Yeah sure hun, just going to the bathroom! Give me a moment!” You quickly went inside the bathroom doing your business and coming out after drying your hands.

Sneaking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. You felt his sculpted back and shoulder blades underneath your touch through his cosy-looking hoodie.

“How’s your day been?” You murmured, lips pressing against the back of his neck, sensing the shiver that ran through him.

“It’s been good, haven’t done too much - did some tidying up and took some garbage out.” He said swiftly turning sideways to fully wrap you up in his strong and safe arms.

“Oh, thank you,” you positively beamed hearing that. If there was one thing you absolutely despised it was taking out the garbage. Such a hideously boring task.

“You talked in your sleep again,” you laughed thinking back on early this morning before you left for work. He tightened his hold on you. “Oh yeah? What was it this time then?”

“That your team apparently sucked so hard, they aren’t getting any of the 4 blocks of chocolate. We’ll be keeping them all to ourselves.” You cackled seeing the way Toms cheeks turned pink before he burst out into hysterical laughter. “Well that sucks for them, not for us though,” he grinned.

For a second he let go of you to throw the teabags into the sink. “Oh come on,” you complained seeing where he threw the tea bags. He simply shushed you with a kiss.

“Come join me on the couch, what do you fancy watching?” He was already on his way to the living room and you had no other choice but to follow him.

“I’m not too bothered,” you said tucking your legs under you in the couch. Tom sitting right beside you giving you a sweet smile.

“I’ve missed you,” to hear those words made your heart swell, “I’ve missed you more,” and his eyes softened with a much smaller smile, but the one he always reserved just for you, on these moments where it was just the two of you in your own little world.

“Do you fancy watching Mindhunter?” You asked after you took a sip of your peach and mango black tea. No milk, no sugar - just some honey in it.

“The FBI show?” And you nodded, he shrugged and turned the TV on, going to Netflix to search for the show.

After a good while of watching the second episode, you snuggled up against Tom’s chest, playing with the strings of his hoodie. His steady heartbeat soothing and calming you right down.

“Do you ever think about what our song is, Tom? Like that one song every couple has?” You asked quietly feeling him run a hand through your hair.

“Sometimes, which song do you think is ours?” His voice laced with curiosity now. You took a moment to ponder over his question.

“For me, spontaneously I’d have to say ‘Photograph’ by Ed,” you landed on, “I feel that song has stuck with us through thick and thin,” you added and felt his lips on your forehead. “Yeah I agree, Ed’s been there for us a lot hasn’t he?” He joked and you buried your face in his clothed chest, laughter bubbling out of you.

“He sure has,” you lifted your head up, looking into his eyes, just getting lost in those brown eyes, the longer slightly curly hair at the ends that framed his defined face so well.

“Do you ever think about the day when we get married? Like, our first song to dance too?” You mumbled slightly embarrassed now that you had exposed the thought of being married to Tom.

The tiniest of smiles played at his lips, eyes glittering ever so slightly, “yeah I do,” he said almost nonchalantly and your eyebrow lifted at that. “Oh?”

“How could I not? It’s gonna happen one day, don’t you worry,” he smiled matter-of-factly, stealing a kiss from you. “What song would you choose?” He mumbled pulling away from your lips ever so slightly, still close enough for his breath to land on your face.

“You’re Still the One by Shania Twain,” you said embarrassingly fast and his lips formed a massive smile. “Play it for me, please.” he urged handing you his phone.

Soon enough, the intro to You’re Still the One started up and you revelled at being in his arms, hearing the song you hopefully danced to one way day in the future, wearing a pretty tux and a beautiful dress.

“I’m feeling really vulnerable right now,” you whispered as to not ruin your moment with the song still playing in the background. “Why?” He whispered back, placing two fingers under your chin gently, to meet his gaze.

“Because I’m exposing such a deep and private part of me, to you for you the best my innermost truest feelings for you - and as much as I love you, it’s still scary to put all of this trust and love in your hands although I know you’d never do anything to hurt me or in any way jeopardise my love for you.” You got out, your eyes turning misty as did Toms at your confession.

“Thank you darling for letting me hear your innermost personal song, but I think it describes us perfectly and I’d be more than honoured to dance our first dance to this song.” His smile could have lightened up ten thousands miles, your heart about to burst with love for this man. Knowing how precious you were to him, for him to treat your feelings so respectfully it meant everything to you.

“I love you, those words aren’t even close to describing the way I really feel about you but they’ll have to do - though I’m more of a shower on how I feel, you know that.” a lone tear spilled over your cheek as you poured your heart out to him and all he did was smile that special smile just for you.

“I love you too, more than words could ever mean,”

#my rambles #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #does anyone actually read tags anymore?

[rottenlaertes]

TC tag game

Tagged by @spudodell Thank you so much for tagging me!

Rules: Answer the questions and tag other TC fans!

1. "He would not fucking say that" only they did and it's canon. When/who?

"'Not so much bloody bitters this time, Boo.' Boo, thought Laurie."

This is so… out of character somehow, I was just as dumbfounded as Laurie was 😂 Considering their relationship (R & B’s) it feels extra cringe, too.

2. Did they kiss in the study? Yes/no + why you are 100% correct about this.

Oh hell yes, I never had doubts about it. Not least because Renault is the queen of ellipses. A lot of excellent analysis has been written by the fandom on this topic, so I’ll just repeat the main argument: The scene would have never had the kind of impact on Laurie if the kiss never happened. I wouldn’t agree there happened more than a kiss, though, I remember reading it somewhere.

3. Mandatory question about Ralph's alleged tattoos.

Hmm, as much as I like tattoos as art, Ralph just doesn't strike me as the type for it. I think, he cares too much about his neat appearances—spotless means spotless. I’m not sure if it was very common among officer ranks at that time, too.

4. 53 vs 59 edition: quote a line or paragraph that is better in the edition you like the least.

I can’t say that I dislike one or the other, but I tend to reread the 59 rather than the 53 edition, simple because that’s the one I read first. The 53 is more unpolished, but also more honest, I think. One of the passages I like:

“Don't insult my intelligence. […] After a moment he added, "What in hell is there to laugh at?"

"Please, Lanyon, I'm sorry, please."

"Used I to say that?"

"Of course you did. Benson used it as a gag in the House play and it brought down the roof.”

I think this is one of the very rare moments Ralph felt a little embarrassed and we were robbed of it!

5. Which TC character would feel right at home here on tumblr dot com?

Laurie, the nerd 😁 wouldn’t you agree? He’d be a fic writer, too. (Remember the passage about Baranova in the 53 edition? “While not committing himself to being actually in love, Laurie had a serial fantasy about her, thinly disguised as the plot of a novel he was some day going to write.”)

6. Tag yourself at Alec's birthday party.

As much as it pains me to admit: Laurie. I always feel out of place at parties.

7. Post a TC meme.

I can’t find a proper picture meme right now, but one of my fav posts about TC is this one https://www.tumblr.com/ralphlanyon/735073429427994624/the-charioteer-is-about-a-dog-person-learning-to 😂 thanks for this gem @ralphlanyon

8. Easy to talk about who deserved better. Who deserved worse?

I’d say Bunny, because he’s the only major character I can’t deal with. Oh, apart from maybe Hazell.

9. You can break the fourth wall (at any point in the novel) and say a single sentence to our protagonist, Laurie Odell. What do you say?

Laurie, darling, there is love and there is fiction, and it’s not the same.

10. What's a question you have about TC? One you haven't found an answer for yet.

What the hell happened to Ralph right after the sacking.

I didn’t spend much time here lately, so I missed who’s been tagged and who wasn’t yet, so I’m tagging everyone who didn’t participate yet 😁 please do, I’d love to read your answers and I need to finde those that I missed somehow 🥲

#the charioteer #tag game

[romanarose]

For the Longest Time: Chapter 5

William Miller x Fem!OC (Lorelei Giang)

Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist :Playlist

Join my taglist!

Summary: At the funeral, Lorelei sees a face from her past and learned a little about Will. They start to find they have more in common than they thought.

Warnings and content: Death of an abusive parent although there isn't much on that right now. Will is compartmentalizing. Talk of past child abuse, divorce, dad leaving, colorism from a parent. Will is emotionally constipated.

****************

It was hot.

Lorelei was trying her best to be supportive but also mind her place. She wasn’t Will’s girlfriend. Mrs. Miller greeted her kindly and thanked her for coming, but se knew she was mostly a source for gossip. Alice, was Ben’s actually girlfriend and was allowed to mourn and be fawned over. Lorelei was there to be support. Will spent a few days largely away, and even headed out today, road separately. Jana asked if Lorelei would like to join her and Frankie to the services and memorial. This ended up being helpful.

Lorelei was about 4 months along and was showing, but certainly had gained weight and all her black dresses were too tight, not only for a funeral but for the muggy middle Florida weather in general. Jana was a size or so above Lorelei and brought over a few options for a more respectable and practical clothing for the weather.

The Millers lived on a farm just outside of the small town they lived in. Lorelei, Will and all the others all lived in a mid-sized town in the same county. The funeral was in the country, a gravesite a mile out from the baptist church and full of bugs that added to the uncomfortable air around them. Paul Miller was not well liked, but Jenna, Will and Benny were and the politics of a small town lead to a lot of obligations. It became clear this week that Jenna’s family was fairly prominent in the town, a “founding family” perse. Jenna and Paul’s marriage was a love match to be sure, many people wondering why a nic well-to-do girl was marrying into a poor farm boy, but Paul could turn on the charm. The marriage was a different story. Paul was an alcoholic and while Will was fairly tight lipped on exactly what happened, Lorelei knew there was abuse.

Will had urged her to sit in his seat during the funeral services, but afterwards Lorelei was attempting to get some fresh air from the crowds. It was clear the family was lage on both sides and very friendly, and Lorelei was growing tired of all the questions. Will had been protective, simply stating she was a friend and cutting anyone off who seemed to be prying. Lorelei was showing, but not obvious enough that it couldn’t just be passed off as a belly. Right now, Will was otherwise engaged in consoling his mother, so Lorelei was left to her own devices and took the chance to walk away. Lorelei wasn’t a big smoker, but she dabbled in stressful times and she was craving one bad. Or some red wine. God, that would be nice right now. 

She placed a hand on her belly. “You’re lucky I love you,Tũn.”

“And here I thought you just got fat.”

Tyler.

Lorelei turned around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 Seeing Tyler for the first time in months was always a bit stark, but Tyler now stood in Will’s shadow, and the contrast was startling. Tyler was not that good look. Not unattractive, but he really is just some guy. This, compared to Will’s handsome face was almost embarrassing that Lorelei had settled for him, but the difference in treatment was the biggest black and white. Even before Tyler slapped her, which Lorelei let happen only once, Tyler was never good. He was a loser, frankly. Will had only ever treated her with respect, long before the pregnancy and even before their friendship. 

Will would have never suggested she was fat.

Tyler pointed to where her hand still rested on her stomach. “How long did it take you to fuck him, a week? I’d assume you did it that night, but Will’s knight in shining armour game wouldn’t allow for him to fuck you with a red mark on your face.”

“And just how was your face that night?” She snapped back. “Last I remember, you were in worse shape than me.”

“Everything okay here?” Santi’s voice drew her eyes to the side. He was walking towards her, arm around a flushed Laci who was holding a water bottle. She didn’t look well, and no doubt Santi was taking her to the car. The cars were parked in almost the opposite direction from her, however, so what was he doing here?

“Yeah.” She lied, turning to Tyler. “Tyler was just leaving.” 

Santi recognized the name, as did Laci by the way she turned to Santi. His arm drew her tighter to him, but he stayed put, his face settling darker. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not leaving.” Tyler objected. “I know the Millers better than Lora does.”

Lorelei scoffed. “You said yourself you didn’t like Will or Ben.”

“Paul Miller was my bus driver and Mrs. Miller was my sunday school teacher. Just because you spread your legs and got knocked up doesn’t make you part of their family.”

“Watch it” Santi warned.

Lorelei wanted to handle this on her own, but knew she couldn’t do what she had 4 months back. She wouldn’t get in a fight while pregnant.

Tyler turned to Santi. “And who the hell are you?” He looked at Laci. “Aren’t you Benny’s girlfriend?”

Laci didn’t even attempt to respond, her mouth sealed shut. No doubt the whole day had been overwhelming, sensory overload for the sensitive girl and likely put her non verbal.

Santi looked to Lorelei and shot his eyes to Laci, and Lorelei got the hint. She stepped over to them and placed an arm around the wobbly girl. He stepped up to Tyler. Santi was shorter than the rest of the guys, but was no less of a force to be reckoned with. She’d seen it in defense of Laci with the creep at the bar, and Lorelei had no doubt it would come out if Tyler said anything about Laci-

“You stay the fuck away from Lorelei, I don’t want to fucking see you at the Miller house, understood?”

Oh. He was defending her.

“I’ll ask you again. Who. The fuck. Are you?”

“I’m the person who's going to kick your ass if you don’t leave her alone.”

Tyler must have been in a fighting mood today. He drew back his hand and swung, but before Laci had time to do anything but gasp, Santiago had taken hold of his hand, turned around and flipped Tyler onto his back with a thud. Lorelei looked to the crowd, and it didn’t seem anyone had noticed. When she turned back to the scene before her, Santi had pulled Tyler up by his collar and shoved him away.

“Offer your condolences to Mrs. Miller, and then fucking leave. If I see you near Lorelei again, it won’t just be me you’re dealing with.”

Tyler scrambled away, and Santi quickly took Laci back in his arms. “Are you okay, baby?”

Laci’s eyes were heavily lidded, and didn’t respond.

Lorelei clocked the heat exhaustion right away. “She needs to get in cool air, now.”

Santi nods. “We were on our way to ask if you wanted to join us,” He bent down slightly, scooping Laci up under her knees and carrying her. Laci weakly signed something that Lorelei couldn’t quite make out. She knew a little sign language but mostly conversational and in a hospital context. “Don’t worry about it.” Santi whispered, then turned to Lorelei as he started walking. “C’mon. The heat isn’t good for pregnant people.”

Lorelei followed them to the car where Lorelei instructed him to put Laci in the back so she could tend to her. As Santi drove to the farm, Lorelei coaxed her to drink water. The house was unlocked, church members setting up food for the memorial service and soon Lorelei was in full nurse mode. Santi buzzed with nerves, asking about a hospital but after checking her temp and her vitals, Lorelei said it was just heat exhaustion, not heat stroke. Santi then helped her walk to Benny’s childhood bedroom to rest as he cared for her and kept her awake.

When Will and Benny came in, it was clear they were fighting. “You’re such a fucking child, Benny!”

“You’re the one that tried to leave me on the goddamn road!” Benny was clearly drunk, slurring his words at 2 in the afternoon.

They went back and forth until Santi shouted down the stairs that Laci was resting.

Will yelled back to shut the hell up; Benny stopped yelling, knowing how badly Laci’s nerves affect her. Will stormed away, and Lorelei followed. When she found him, he was sitting on a twin bed in a room that clearly used to belong to a teenage boy.

“Was this your room?”

Will didn’t look away from the Attack of the Clones poster. “Yeah.”

“Can I sit?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Lorelei waited a few moments before talking. Will clearly needed a breather. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Lorelei took in his room. It was a jock’s room, clearly, with Miami Heat memorabilia around, but also a little bit nerdy. There was a box set of the Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit and the Similarian, all looking well worn, and of course some Star Wars here and there. Will never showed that side of him. 

“I like the posters. Were you a little nerdy in high school?” She asked, breaking the ice.

Will huffed a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Nerdy enough anyway. That surprise you?”

“A little.”

“And why’s that?” It seemed a genuine question.

She hesitated an answer. “Well your… you.”

Finally, Will turned to her, brow furrowed in question. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you… you. You’re strong, you give off football player energy.” He had been in football, after all. She knew that from stalking him via Tyler’s year books.

He still looked ticked off, leftover energy from the fight with Benny. “You think I was a dumb jock?”

“A little.” She tried to defuse the tension with a joke. “I mean you did go into the military, so I’m assuming the athletic scholarship didn’t work out?” Immediately after saying it, Lorelei regretted it. She knew she had a tendency to be rude, to say the first thing that comes to mind, and most people deserved it.

Will didn’t, and he snapped. “You think the smartest person in the room at all times, don’t you?” When Lorelei didn’t respond, he continued. “You have that air about you, you know. Maybe that’s why you don’t make friends.”

That hurt, and now she was on the defense and stood up in preparation for a fight. “Maybe I’m not the smartest person in the room, but I don’t see a lot of competition.”

Will stood up, matching her energy. “You don’t even have the highest education out of us, you know that?”

She didn’t know that, actually.

Will continued. “Jana has a masters degree in social work. Could hav gotten her dctorate two but didn’t see a point. She chose to make shit pay to help people when she probably could have gotten some fancy well paying job. Laci has a bachelors in psych. I know every see’s her as helpless, and you and Alice think she’s a ditz”

“I don’t-”

“But she is plenty smart. And Frankie, Frankie doesn’t have a degree but he’s a fucking enginier, Lore. You know what kinda brains you gotta have to do that shit? He got a 98 on his ASVAP. And me? I got into med school. I could have been a doctor, Lorelei, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking down to me.” After a pause, Will averted his eyes and sat down on the bed, mumbling a sorry with his face in his hands.

Lorelei stood in front of him, taking in his words. He was right, she did have a stuck up attitude. Will didn’t deserve it. Neither did Benny, Frankie, Jana, Laci or even Santi. Santi had proven to her that he was a good man the last few days.

“You got into med school?”

Will nodded into his hands. “Yeah. Took online classes. I was a combat medic so was able to get a lot of credits counted that way, and took dual credit in high school. Was supposed to leave the army to go.”

She spoke softly. “What happened?” 

Removing his hands, Will flopped backwards on the bed as he spoke. “Same thing that always happens. Benny.”

Lorelei joined him, grunting a bit as she sat and laid back, black hair sprawling everywhere. “Go on.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Laci saw Will turn to her, staring before turning back to watch the ceiling fan. “Ben popped positive on a drug test. He was inlisted at the time, doing real well too…”

Oh shit. “What was he on?”

“Coke, just like every fucking person I’ve ever loved, it seems.” Will was shaking. 

Lorelei knew Frankie and to a lesser extent Jana had suffered from addiction to cocaine.

“So what happened?”

“Tom called me. He was a friend from when him, me, Jana, and Santi were stationed together… He had moved his way up a lot and was starting a special ops team.” Will took a deep breath. In through his nose, out his mouth. His shaking stilled. “He said he could make it go away if me and Ben agreed to join his team… so I did.”

Will’s love for his brother never failed to surprise her. “You’re a good man, Will.”

Will shrugged. “He’s my brother.”

“My siblings would never do that for me.”

Will turned to her, and she looked to him in turn. Their faces were close, as close as they had been the night they almost kissed before they fucked. “Would you do it for them?”

“In a heartbeat.” She whispered.

“That’s the sacrifice for older siblings to bear.” 

They turned back to the ceiling, laying there for a moment and feeling the cool air of the fan on their skin. “I was an accident.” This caused Will to turn to her briefly before turning back. “My parents were both second generation, living in Philly. They got married at 18 to avoid the scandal… in the 2000’s in a Vietnamese area, it would have been a hoopla. Well, didn’t do much to save face as they got divorced when I was 8, my dad walked out. I didn’t see him for ten years.”

“Jeez, Lore, I’m sorry.”

She continued. “Mom remarried, had a daughter, my sister Sophie. I was about 13 then, 15 when she had Colin. My mom and step dad treated me like I was an outsider. I was too interested in my family's culture back then… I was obsessed with old Hollywood. I was accused constantly of being too western. First time I wore red lipstick, my step dad called me a whore and rubbed it off with his palm… I went back upstairs and applied it again anyway.”

She could feel Will tense next to her. “I love being vietnamese. It’s just at the time… I wanted to be different, look different. I wanted to be an actress for a while, but my mom told me my skin was too dark” Lorelei chuckles sardonically. “I spent years of college trying to lighten my skin, make my eyes look less asian… My sister was the perfect Asian daughter. My step dad had much lighter skin, so she did too. She was docile, agreeable, quiet…  everything I wasn’t. There’s always a divide between us, even today… I think her and Collin think of me as the bad guy, the reason there were fights in our house… but I’d give my life for them in a heartbeat.” She laughed again. “It’s funny, I’d do almost anything for them except pick up the phone to talk.”

Will laughed along with her. He reached out his hand, thankful that she allowed him to hold it. “I’m sorry you were treated like that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

“How do you know what I went through?”

“You aren’t as hard to read as you think you are.” A pause. “Is that why you won’t take off your shirt?”

Another pause. “Is that why you don’t kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

*

Eventually, they returned to the memorial, a crowd of people having joined. Lorelei rubbed Will's arm encouragingly, and Will put on his best host face.

Laci had returned from her rest, Santi still fussing over her and insisting she stay sitting and drinking water. Frankie sat down by Lorelei as Jana messed with Santi across the room to a giggling Laci. 

“How’s Will?” He asked sincerely. 

She sighed. “He’s struggling. More than he’s letting on. Him and Ben got in a fight.”

Frankie laughed. “Yeah, that’s not unusual. He tell you what it was?”

“No.”

“It was so stupid.” Frankie shook his head, smiling. “Benny was trying to get Mrs. Miller to admit Paul was an asshole and she wasn’t happy with him.” Will stopped the truck and pushed Ben out and told him to walk home. Benny caught up and jumped on the truck bed and was stuck there the whole ride back, pouting.

Lorelei could picture it. “Their dad, he was… pretty bad, wasn’t he?”

Frankie grew solom. “Really bad. Will took the brunt of it though, always deflecting what Ben was supposed to get onto him.

Tears began to form, prickling at her eyes at the thought. 

“Excuse me, sorry.” She needed to step away, she couldn’t show vunerability like this. Frankie asked if she was okay, but she said she needed to use the bathroom.

Lorelei tucked herself away in a hall, away from prying eyes. He was so kind, he was so good… it pained her to know he had been hurt like that. She just wanted to hold little blonde Will, she just wanted to tell him that everything would be okay… she wanted to protect him and keep him safe.

“You alright there, young lady?”

Lorelei looked to see an old man shuffle in, but keeping a respectful distance. He looked kind but concerned. 

She sniffled, wiping away a tear. “Yes, thank you. Just a hard day.”

The old man nodded. He glanced only ever so slightly at her stomach, but quickly back up. She couldn’t blame him, especially when he never mentioned it. “You’re a friend of Will’s, aren’t you.”

Friend. “Yes sir. Just hear for support.”

He smiled. “He sure seems to have a lot of support, I’m glad to see. I’m Gideon.” He extended a withered hand to her.

Will’s maternal grandfather, “Oh! I’m Lorelei. You must be mrs. Miller’s grandfather. Im so sorry for your-”

He held up a hand, twinkle in his eye. “Paul was an asshole, my dear, I’m sure you know.”

Lorelei couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know. I met him once, and he did not make a good impression.”

Gideon laughed along with her. “I’m sure. Miss, if I may be so bold…”

“Please” He seemed kind; his presence was calming. A strong strength that Will possesed as well.

“I know you two are having a baby… Jenna told me.”

Lorelei began to worry; what would this old man think? A baby outside of marriage? Would he have an issue she was vietnamese? Hell, had he fought in Vietnam-

“And I’d just like to welcome you to out family.”

Oh. “Well... Will and I, we aren’t dating…” She attempted to clarify, but Gideon waved her off. “That doesn’t matter. You know Laci?” He pointed to the kitchen where Benny and Frankie had joined her, Santi and Jana. Will walked up at well, greeting Jana and Benny both with arms around their shoulders. “Laci like a granddaughter I never had. Her and Benny come over often, she always cooks, sweet girl she is.”

“She’s lovely.” Lorelei agreed. 

“They come around less now that Benny is with that McCarthy girl, but se la vi” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Laci is family. Hell, they're all family.” Gideon looked back at Lorelei. “And so are you. You’re a part of this family. Now,” He gently nudged her toward the group. “Go enjoy before Alice finds you.”

Lorelei laughed, drying the last of her tears and thanking him. She walked up to Will, sliding between him and Benny. Will smiled down at her, pulling her a few steps aside. “Hey Lore, you okay?”

She nodded. “I met your grandpa. He’s really nice.”

Will smiled at that. “Pops is the best… We’ll talk to him more in a bit. I just… I wanted to ask you on Rosie’s birthday, but I forgot, and then this whole week…” Will shook his head. “Listen, the VA I volunteer at is having its annual charity fundraiser, and they let me choose the non-profit.” He smiled proudly. “I chose the women’s shelter Jana and Laci work for.”

Lorelei smiled up at him, heart swelling in the pride he obviously felt. Will did a lot for the VA, it makes sense they let him pick. “That’s great Will, congratulations.”

“Well, the thing is…” He rocked back on his heels a bit, a nervous energy in him that she wasn’t used to seeing. “It’s a ball. Fancy as shit and all that… Santi, Frankie and Ben are taking Laci, Jana and Alice… and I was hoping…” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “You’d like to go with me?”

She was a bit shocked to say the least. “When is it?”

“It’s two months from now.”

Her heart dropped a bit. “Oh… well… I’m going to be at almost 6 months by that point…”

His smile faltered, looking down at the floor. “Oh, yes, of course I bet you wouldn’t be very comfortable at that point-”

“No, I mean… I’ll be showing… more…”

He looked confused. “Yeah?”

“Well… do you really want a girl you knocked up? Don’t you have some pretty girl-”

Will’s eyes were wide with horror “I don’t want to bring anyone else, Lore. I want to bring you. You’re my best friend, you are a pretty girl. You’re pregnant, not knocked up. We are having a baby, and Lorelei…” Will sighed, a little wistfully, placing a careful hand on her stomach, his blue eyes connecting with hers. “I’m happy. I’m happy were having this baby and I love them, and you, more than I thought possible…” Will’s eyes shown with the emotion of his words. “You are both my family, and I love you.”

As Lorelei listened to him talk, she lost herself for a moment thinking he was professing something different, that the love in his words was romantic… then she remembered their position, she remembered that this was not a fairy tale. She had to be happy with what she had. A loving father of her child, and a so-far healthy baby on the way. It wasn’t a fairy tale, but everything was going to be okay. She was going to be a mom, they were going to break the cycle of hers and Will’s families, and unlike her and Will, this baby would have a father who loved them. 

“I’d love to go to the ball with you, Will.” She placed a hand on one cheek and kissed the other, making him blush. “But I might be wearing New Balance nursing shoes.”

********************

ngl Lorelei needed to get knocked down a peg.

But they are seeing a little more eye to eye at least now.

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @milkymoon2483 @poeedameronn@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten

#William miller #will ironhead miller #triple frontier #William miller x oc #William miller smut #william miller angst #William miller comfort #fem oc #triple frontier fanfiction

[aira-writes]

BNHA Boys as Normal College Students

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Genre: one-shot, bnha imagines, college au, fluff, crack, humor, sfw

Warnings: language, suggestive? idk lol

A/n: hey everyone, I promised I’d try to upload a loooooot right? So here it is! Btw this isn’t from my drafts. This will be a series (ig, lol?) and it will feature some of the BNHA boys that I’m fond of. I just finished creating two episodes of this from scratch—in two hours (idek how I managed to do it, but nonetheless, so proud of myself) In addition, I’ll be gradually updating this short series. (here's to hoping I’ll get to finish them *cries* I’m also thinking of having atleast 4-5 episodes with different characters each) This plot’s chaotic, SO CHAOTIC. So read at your own risk. This contains grammatical errors since it is not proofread. Mwah.

Characters are in college

Episode 1: Bakugou Katsuki (The Drummer)

“Come on, y/n! It’s Fridaaaaay!” Ochaco whined as Momo tugged your forearm trying to convince you to come to them at a newly opened bar a few blocks away from school.

“I told you guys that I have to pass.” You smiled sheepishly and guiltily knowing you have been extremely busy for the past week and wasn’t able to go out with your best friends that much. “I have a lot of upcoming exams this week.” You added.

“I know you’re busy and all but we’re just gonna look at the place real-quick!” Momo spoked as she continued tugging at your arm.

“Please, please, pleaseeee, come with us, y/n! Promise we’ll leave after 15 minutes!” Ochaco added.

“I heard there’s a new band performing so we gotta go there, y/n!” Momo tugged some more.

“—WE’LL EVEN TAKE YOU HOME OURSELVES!” they both said in unison.

You stared at Ochaco’s futile attempt at a puppy-eyes and to Momo’s hold on your arm.

And after a few seconds of staring at them back-to-back, you gave up and just groaned. “Okay, fiiiiine.”

The girls squealed and gave each other a knowing look.

You knew that these two won’t take no for an answer and the earlier you get there, the earlier you get to go home.

The three of you arrive at the newly built and opened bar and you’re not gonna deny that the place looks amazing. Since it was opening night, the tables were full but the fact that the three of you were able to go in smoothly and has a table reserved made you question if Momo knew the owner.

Ofcourse she does. Momo has a lot of connections.

The three of you were already seated comfortably in the table—which you realized was one of the front tables so you have the nice view of the stage. Momo ordered drinks and you denied her offer saying you don’t wanna get home wasted. You need to be sober when you get home since you still have a lot of topics to review.

You were busy sipping the cold water you ordered, scanning your surroundings and spotting a few familiar faces, enjoying the ambiance of the place, and vibing to the soft background music—when the lights of the bar blacked out and the music shut off. Only the small night lights attached to the walls, illuminated the place.

Some people let out small-amused gasps in the way that the bar was trying to introduce its performers, since that strategy made everyone focus on the stage.

Then, the spotlight moved right in the center of the stage—but no one was there since the stage were closed by the curtains. But the fact that you can hear a small murmur of sounds—gradually increasing—made you turn towards the stage in curiosity as you watch the curtains open, only to reveal a band you’re not familiar with.

They looked like a new band, one was in the piano, one was using the electric guitar, one has the acoustic guitar, and one was standing in the center with the microphone on—whom you assumed is the vocalist. They seemed like a common type of band, but the way their faces were hidden with a full-faced masks on, intrigued the people inside the bar—including you.

There was a small intro of the electric guitar, then the piano followed, and next the acoustic guitar—before you knew it, the vocalist and her band we’re already playing good music. The band has this certain type of vibe that you like and the fact that their lyrics, their rhythm—plus the vocalists’ amazing voice—got you hooked and bobbing your head to what seems like an original song of theirs.

Momo and Ochaco started screaming in glee as they also vibed to the song. And just before the song reached what it seems like its chorus, the dancefloor of the bar was already packing with grinding bodies. It was a good thing that the stage was moveable—you were surprised as well—and it now stood at a higher level compared to the dance floor so you can still get a nice view of the stage as the band members continued to produce amazing music.

“Come on, y/n! Let’s dance!” Ochaco tugged your arm. She didn’t even have to tell you twice since you already followed her to the dance floor since you liked the band’s songs. Momo followed you two and danced with the crowd.

“It looks like that 15 minutes is up, y/n!” Momo shouted through the loud music.

“I think we’ll have to extend for another 45 minutes.” You grinned and Momo grinned back as you three jumped, shouted, and enjoyed the music.

You three were busy enjoying yourselves when all of a sudden, an unfamiliar guy who looks like he goes to the same school as you, approached you. “Wanna dance?” he asked you with a smirk on. And he didn’t even hide the way he scanned you up and down before stopping on to your face.

“Dude, we’re already dancing.” You snorted and the two bursted into a fit of giggles as you urged Momo and Ochaco to move near the front of the dance floor, leaving the guy.

“You didn’t have to be mean, y/n.” Momo laughed.

“We we’re already dancing. What kind of question is ‘wanna dance’?” You cringed, remembering the guy’s futile attempt to flirt. Ochaco just laughed and playfully smacked your shoulder.

The three of you resumed dancing, the music even louder than before since you three were nearer to the stage now. You liked the next song since it was a bit sultry but there was a playful tinge to it so you just let your body do the moves that you felt were natural to you. 

Momo and Ochaco were right for trying to convince you to come. You definitely needed this break after being stuck at your room for days and never even getting the time to rest or party.

You were busy dancing to the beat of the music when a pair of hands snaked their way behind you and surrounded your waist. “Seems like your waist is missin’ something, babe. They need my hands around ‘em.”

You immediately jerked the hands away. “Wtf, get your hands off me, you perv.” You turned and gave the unfamiliar guy a sharp glare—hating the fact that he touched you—only to see him looked amused.

“I like feisty girls, y’know.” He winked and tried to touch you one more time.

“Fuck off.” You cursed. 

Why can’t some guys take no for an answer?

“Aww, don’t be like that sweethea—” The guy’s voice was interrupted by a sudden loud static sound making almost everyone’s ears hurt and stopped dancing. The band’s music stopped almost stopped right after the static sound.

What the?

The people started murmuring, confused what’s wrong. The stage went back down, so it was now on the same level of the dance floor.

“Touch my girl one more time shit-face, and I’ll blast you to pieces.” The voice boomed and echoed all throughout the bar, making everyone to be even more confused. 

Everyone was scanning the crowd looking for the owner of the voice. You were confused as well.

Why did the music stop?

You looked to where the voice was coming from—only to realize that in the back corner of the stage, right behind the vocalist, is where the drum set was.

How come you never noticed that earlier?

And in it sat the drummer who wore his full-mask on—a mic in his hand—and the blonde spiky hair that was sprouting out of his mask, wasn’t hard to miss.

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

aira-writes© 2022

Comments, likes, and re-blogs are deeply appreciated! ❤️

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME DON'T STEAL MY WORK.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #Female reader #katsuki x y/n #bnha imagines #bnha bakugou katsuki #aira-writes #mha katsuki bakugou #one-shots #fluff #sfw #crack #humor #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x self insert #bnha boys as normal college students #mha fluff #mha bakugou crack #college au #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki bnha #mha oneshot #bakugou drummer #band #katsuki drummer #chaotic bnha #relationship #bnha relationship

[ainefu]

High&Low The Worst X (Video Interview)

English Translation (click on keep reading) 吉野北人さん, 川村壱馬さん, 塩野瑛久さん, 前田公輝さん

1:20 Question 1: If you were to switch places with someone, who would it be?

Gouki -- > Hokuto / Hokuto --  > Gouki / Kazuma -- > Akihisa / Akihisa -- > Kazuma

1:26 – 1:44 Gouki joked by saying there was mutual love between them since the matches were perfect and how they succeeded in creating couples (xD). Akihisa suggested changing places and experiencing each other’s work place for one day.

1:46 Gouki: I chose Hoku-chan, because inside himself is something that I could never imagine for me. The softness he has and the characteristic atmosphere he creates, those are things I can’t see inside myself at all. That’s why I chose Hoku-chan. Also, earlier when we were taking the pictures, I thought he was cute. I pointed at him because he was cute.

2:38 Hokuto: My reason (for choosing Gouki) is kind of similar. Gouki-kun has traits that I don’t have, he is unexpectedly really good at talking and he lights up the mood of the room. I can’t do these at all, if it were something like a joint party (they are teasing him here asking if he really is alright with just a joint party, Gouki added that he feels thrilled/fluttered and gestured him to go on), he’d be the most interesting person and the one to bring the tension up, I feel like he’d be one of the popular people.

3:19 Gouki: Let’s go to a bar together after this (everyone laughing). I am really happy, thank you.

3:31 Kazuma: I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who reflects the word “Beauty” as much as Akihisa, that’s the first reason. His external appearance is one thing of course, but taking into consideration his heart too I start thinking if it’s possible for a person to be so beautiful/pure. Personally, I am the type who is pretty calm/composed and Aki-kun is too. But when we are together, I can’t feel this, the atmosphere isn’t stressful. He is even more composed than I am, it makes me wonder where that maturity comes from.

4:28 Akihisa: Lately though, I am doing more and more as I like. I am trying to bring back my innocence/naive part.

4:41 Akihisa: For me, I admire Kazuma as a man and when for example he stands in the middle of the stage as an artist I’ve been thinking that it must feel good. The mysterious feeling he gives off and this calm side of him become into a performance, I find this amazing. You can’t of course pass this feeling without doing anything, and I think he has a lot of potential in him. And I understand that he is not achieving all this without giving it any thought at all, so including that part of his I respect him.

5:45 Question 2: What are the highlights/the parts to look forward to in this movie?

5:50 Kazuma: The atmosphere in Oya High School. This time, right from the start everyone is on good terms with each other and have strong bonds. I would like you all to look out for that emotion and passion that comes to life thanks to those strong relationships.

6:08 Hokuto: Thinking of HiGH&LOW, actions comes to mind first. This time, I think the actions scenes make up more than half of the movie! It’s filled with them more than half. The action scenes that will make you feel nervous and excited are the highlight.

6:27 Gouki: With time having passed at Oya High School, everyone has taken on their individual roles creating an atmosphere where their chemistry shows. Similarly to the previous works, Housen joins forces (with Oya High School) and they form a team carrying similar aspirations. This time we see other schools appearing too and I feel like their “colours” (their traits basically) are divided pretty clearly. I think it’s a good chance to start looking for your favourite character/team again!

6:59 Akihisa: Among the 4 of us I am the only one who is coming from Housen and not Oya High School, I’d like you to see how Housen will be involved in the story with Sachio absent. Even without Sachio, I’d be happy if you’d look out for the resolutions and the soul Housen has inherited.

7:23 Was there a change in the relationship between Fujio and Tsukasa?

7:28 Kazuma: Compared to the previous works I felt like there were more easy scenes and parts in terms of acting, it came out very natural at some times.

7:36 Akihisa: Last time, after the movie you also had the shooting of a drama right? In the drama you also had a one-on-one fight, I believe the relationship you two had there had a great impact.

7:50 Hokuto: There was that feeling of distance between them having crossed fists once, but they have managed to create a strange relationship where they understood each other without words.

8:02 Kazuma: Aside that we are also together in THE RAMPAGE working as a group, and even in the group as positions as quite similar to the ones we have in Oya High School. During that time we were able to talk a lot, and so even after we entered the movie (as characters) we naturally maintained that good relationship without having to talk much.

8:41 Gouki: Fujio definitely looks like he wouldn’t dance! Like a concert.. (imitating Kazuma’s and Hokuto’s poses and moves). And Tsukasa would never do anything like dancing! So are you two really able to act so different characters without any switch at all? Do you just say like “Start” and get right away to it? (Kazuma agreed) Tell me about that switch later! 

9:14 Hokuto: We’d actually like to ask you instead

9:20 Gouki: Like even if you think of Yuta there are some expressions that might be similar to performing on stage, but he showed such amazing acting that it’s difficult to believe it’s his first time. I felt that from you two as well. And I guess we grow and develop along with the roles we have, so that’s why it becomes easier to get into them. I ended up talking all the time though even though I intended to ask the question to you.

9:48 Kazuma: Even though our roles confront each other, we normally interact together openly, talking even when there is no camera and strengthening our relationship like that.

10:05 Akihisa: Seeing the poster you know right away that Fujio and Suzaki clash with each other, and so me and Gouki-kun were watching from the side that fight of “soul vs soul” (their spirits, their will and passion) and were discussing that it was amazing.

10:22 Gouki: I am not sure from what position exactly we should be saying it but objectively we both ended up thinking “Wow that was awesome”. 

Notes: I am still learning and the translation is not always literal so there might be mistakes or parts I didn’t understand well. Feel free to correct me if you notice anything! I hope this helps everyone who wants to enjoy the video!

You can find the translation in the video's comment section too!

#high&low #high&low the worst x #shiono akihisa #maeda gouki #yoshino hokuto #kawamura kazuma #the rampage #exile tribe #interview #吉野北人 #川村壱馬 #塩野瑛久 #前田公輝 #日本語 #japanese #Youtube

[adolin-is-best-boy]

ranking four queer stranger things ships on how likely i think they are to become cannon!

Ships in question: ronance, byler, jargyle, steddie

from least likely to most likely

note: i’m more focusing on the thematic and meta stuff to determine whether it gonna happen or not

4. Jargyle

i mean, it’s cute, but there is very little evidence for this happening. the only reason i could see the writers doing it would be to give jonathan another love interest after a likely jancy breakup. I mean, neither of them seem the most straight to me, but not in a way that makes it seem that their relationship could be anything more than platonic. besides, if half of the ships on this list end up being canon, when you add it to the other canon ships, then adding jargyle would really make it a bit cramped in the romance department

3. Ronance

the chemistry is there! nancy and robin are looking at eachother in those posters, the same way all the other (basically) canon ships are. it might be a thing relating to getting the other person unvecna’d, but then it’s kinda weird that jopper is doing it. also, i feel like nancy being queer could also lead to some actual sibling bonding with you-know-who. good vibes here all around, plus it’s one of my favorite w/w ships ever!

however, there are some things that make me less sure it’ll happen. first of all, vickie. the only reasons i see robin and vickie not happening is A. vickie dies (lame), or B. vickie doesn’t like girls (unlikely). from the way it’s been building up it’s nigh impossible some sort of romantic confrontation (or something like that) between them won’t happen, and it would be kinda weird if it was built of that robin liked vickie only for her to end up with nancy, unless vickie dies, which would be not very cool (but i could see happening in vol 2).

second of all, i have a feeling nancy is gonna die, if not in vol2 then in season 5. but that’s an entire other post, so i won’t say much else. i’d really like this ship to happen, but i won’t be surprised if it doesn’t.

2. Steddie (bisexual steve)

steddie just makes sense for a lot of reasons! steve having an arc where he realizes he’s bisexual has been set up SO well, it works perfectly with his character, it would be a shame if it were wasted. eddie is heavily gay/queer coded, making it perfect for steve to realize things about himself. plus, it would be perfect for the kids to have someone they already look up to be queer, and make them more comfortable with themselves. im about 75% sure that steve is bisexual.

the only problem here is that eddie has some massive death flags in vol2. i really don’t want this to happen, but i can’t ignore the signs. but if he DOES survive vol2, then i believe it’s extremely likely we’ll get steddie in s5. if he doesn’t live, then it’s possible that steve could end up with jonathan, bc of the likely jancy breakup and the fact that it would be poor writing if stancy got back together. i think we’ll for sure see some queer steve stuff in s5.

1. Byler

it’s happening 100%. i have never been this confident in a queer ship (or any ship for that matter) before. i am so confident in byler happening that i am going to schedule a post on july 1st celebrating it. there is no doubt in my mind. too me it’s so obvious it’s happening that i feel like it’s redundant to explain to anybody who’s seen the show why. there are so many reasons (both external and internal) why byler is going to happen that im not even going to list them, just watch the show.

the question is not IF byler is happening, but WHEN byler is happening. In my opinion it would be better if they are established by the end of vol2, not only to haze out the homophobes early, but to give the relationship time to grow so we can see them as a fully fledged couple in s5 before it ends. there are other reasons, but those are the main ones. however i could also see the writers not having them get together yet, and only confirm that they both have feelings for eachother so they can get together early/mid s5 and we can watch them navigate a new relationship and what it means.

———

okay im done, let me know what y’all think

Edit: I fucking hate it here

Edit 2: never mind im gaining hope again

#byler #steddie #steve x jonathan #ronance #jargyle #bisexual steve harrington #st vol 2 #stranger things vol2 theory

[mrjakeparker]

First off, for anyone who needs a primer on AI Generated Art here's a concise video on the subject to get you up to speed: LINK I used Midjourney I started out with these prompts to see what I would get: Astronaut with a skull head +skull + skeleton + red spacesuit + character design + full body + red + sci-fi + star wars + Ralph McQuarrie + Jake Parker, cartoon, cartoon network, adventure time style. Then I thought I'd mix it up and see what prompts like octane render + 3d would give me. I didn't like what I was getting so I went back to my original prompts but added rubberhose animation + pixar + disney + 3d. The results were better, so I asked for more variations. When I got them I decided I was getting diminishing returns and called it a day. Lots of interesting ideas to put into my design, but no one design really felt like it nailed the vibe I got from my original design. After this experiment here's what I think:

1) AI Art Generators will only become more powerful/capable. So wishing it away is a waste of time. The only path forward is figuring it out how to implement it and how to regulate it. 2) With revolutionary technology comes a reorganization of status and power. The status quo HATES this and will do almost anything to stop it from happening.

AI Generated Art shifts the power (and wealth) of creating images from people who have training, to people who don't.

This reorganization happened in the 2000s when programs like Maya, 3D Studio Max, and Photoshop made art creation a lot more accessible to people who couldn't paint traditionally, or sculpt clay.

It allowed places like animation studios to be havens for creative people to make art who might not have been able to draw really well. Which really upset people who had trained to animate in 2D on paper, and who studied classical painting techniques. Which leads me to 3: 3) Not everyone who is creative can make art, and not everyone who can make art is creative. The creative people who could also adapt and learn new tools absolutely thrived in the new digital art world.

A lot of the art I've seen generated from AI is a lot like hearing someone impersonate English but who doesn't know the language. It sounds right, but they aren't actually saying anything.

4) I see these AI Art generators as tools. Another resource for creative people to add to their toolbox to make them even more creative. Or at the very least, make their job easier.

5) AI isn't an end to end problem solver for productions. There's still a needs to be an artist to translate it into something usable. Someone needs to interpret AI art into something a modeler can model, or set designer can build.

Example: After a producer plugs a bunch of prompts from a script into Midjourney they take it to the art dept. The crew gets a brief from an art director and instead of a lot of back and forth, the art director points at a page of AI art and says "Make it look like this"

6) Questions I’m still thinking about:

- Do these AI Art Generators actually undermine illustrators, photographers, concept artists? Or does it actually elevate these industries?

- Is it bad to democratize something like art creation?

- Who truly benefits from this shift in power? Where is the money flowing to?

- Should artists have the option of their artwork being removed from the AI generator's databases? Or is any art you post online free game? Does the AI generator do anything different than what an artist does who has strong stylistic influences from other artists?

7) I'm still learning about this, and still reading up on all the pros and cons.

I would love to know your thoughts. 

We've been discussing it over on the Discord for a couple weeks now: LINK

I also posted this on IG and it blew up. I could not keep up with the comments. Over 750 of them! If you want to get a vibe check on what the broader art community thinks of this check it out here: LINK

-Jake

[sezija]

Hello! I recently saw your art of Ghali, Drephl and Rleiph, and decided to finally try out making wiki pages! I plan on making all three of them before adding them, but I have a few questions on about them. (Im pretty sure that you wrote the fic, but please correct me if I’m wrong)

first off, the fic is AMAZING, I cried multiple times while reading it, and everything goes together so perfectly there’s too much to talk about so I’ll stop here before it gets too long.

1) On Ghali, I wanted to double check that she took the last name Shims, because at some point it refers to the family as “the shims”

2) on Frihl, does he keep the last name Shims, or take his husband’s name?

3) can I say that Rleiph has pale speckles in her physical description?

4) could you give me more insight on Ghali’s , Drephl’s and Rleiph’s personalities? I personally struggle with describing those myself.

5) are there names for Drephl and Frihl’s parents, as I would like for them to be in the relationships category.

6) same for Rleiph’s girlfriend. Also, does she have a physical appearance? I’d love to draw the two of them together.

7) WEREWOLF CENTAUR. Amazing idea. What does the kid look like? I know that they’re described as a foal, but WHAT IS THEY JUST HAD A WOLF HALF INSTEAD OF A HORSE HALF, OR A WOLF HALF DURING FULL MOONS. I would love to know things like their skin tones and hair color too. (And coat) also thank you for all these centaurs, there isn’t even a catagory on the wiki for them yet.

8) what kind of clothes does everyone wear?

9) I know that Drephl and Ghali probably just went to a courtroom and signed some papers, but I really want to draw Drephl standing on a stool with her under an arch, where they just hug. This is also so I can mess around with possible wedding traditional clothing during that time period.

10) what is the name of Drephl and Ghali’s grandchild? The werewolf one?

Thank you for this amazing fic! Loved the art you made, and this will be very embarrassing if you didn’t write the fic!



Putting this under read more;;

Ok first of all. omg??? that's so cool what the hell!!! i'm so happy you liked my fic so much???

1) Yeah, she becomes a Shims

2) I think he takes his husband's name (which i don't have yet)

3) I forgot to give her some white in her coat in the art lol, but i decided to work that in; she's born with just a brown coat, but some white speckles start appearing as she grows older :3

4) They honestly don't have much, yet; the style i wrote in makes it really hard to add Character and Personality other than just stated facts like "she likes hiking" and "she's a computer programmer", sorry

5) Not yet, sorry

6)

7/10) I want to give them at least 2-3 kids so i can actually make them all different, though i imagine they probably have 5-8 year age differences cus raising just one is chaotic and hard enough lol. someone made really good art of their kid!!! (i've come up w the names Phil, Lei, and Majil so far) (j pronounced like (consonant) y)

8) currently i've just been drawing them in some clothes from our time cus i haven't had the motivation&energy necessary to figure out the Fashion of their time, but i can say that the blanket??? dress?? things the centaurs wear is like. actual clothing they wear in their time period&place

9) I love that so much. also, it honestly makes a lot of sense for them to hold an actual celebration; your wedding is basically the only time in your life where you have an excuse to gather every single person you're close to in one place for a big party (aside from your funeral but uh. yeah.) their marriage was meant as the point where they no longer cared what anyone else thought bc they were so secure in their meaning to each other, so i love the idea of them going all out and then just hugging.

also behold! look what i found from way back when i was writing the fic :)

#sezijasks #this is. whattttttt i didnt know ppl cared abt my fic ??? #i was like "oo ive got a new tablet maybe ill finally draw the Fam'' #and then out of the floorboards oozed fanart and asks and reblogs of excitement and i was like !?!?!?!??! #its made me write some additional scenes to flesh out their personalities #idk if i'll release them yet they're just lil blurps but who knows #asks #i named zir 'nail' and it took me like 10 minutes to realize thats an actual english word lmao. its pronounced more.. finnish-like #put 'najiil' in finnish google translate and make it sound it out and uve got it #(the 'j' is less pronounced but if its not there it does it like english so)

[dwsavideos]

have u seen the sing street movie? i loved it and i was reluctant about the musical bc there’s some stuff about the movie that i love that ik wouldn’t translate to stage so im wondering how they compare👀

Just to warn you, I’m answering this in a very long and specific way because I can talk about Sing Street forever (could probably write a thesis on it tbh) so I hope you don’t mind the long answer. It’s a really great question! I have seen the Sing Street movie several times and I love it. Also having seen the stage version in Boston, I can confidently say that though most of the movie translates to the stage version, they are pretty different in a lot of ways, and not just the staging. Here’s my observations:

When you say “stuff about the movie that you love but know wouldn’t translate to the stage” I don’t know if you mean that in a staging way or if you mean specific characteristics or scenes. (I think I know what you’re talking about but that’s a spoiler lol) BUT without spoiling any of the major plot, I can say that in the movie, there’s characters swimming, characters on boats, characters driving/sitting in a car, riding bikes, a motorcycle at one point and none of that is in the stage version obviously because those are very hard things to stage in any musical or play.

That being said, the stage version deviates from the movie at times but the whole storyline and main character arcs are the same. The only thing that’s a bit different is a few scenes, some of the band characters, and songs that are new like Dream For You, Faith of Our Fathers, Up Reprise, and a few 80s songs that aren’t in the movie. The biggest difference (that’s not a spoiler) is that there is no school dance at the end. With a cast of 15 people, 4 of those people being the adult characters, a school dance scene would’ve been tricky to try to stage.

Also I have to say the musical touches on a lot of darker themes while the movie definitely has it’s sad moments, but is overall lighthearted. The stage version is very funny but gets heavy, and that content is treated and performed with lots of respect. Also there was a trigger warning insert in the playbill and on the website when you buy tickets. Adding those heavy scenarios can be hit or miss depending on how the characters cope or how it relates to the plot. (i.e: Do the scenarios help develop character/drive the story forward/give the audience context?) Adding those heavy themes just for the hell of it is bad writing and an unhealthy habit for writers to have. But these themes definitely relate to the plot and characters and drive the story forward along with helping character development. (Some of these themes were hinted at in the movie but never shown/barely mentioned).

The ending of the movie is something that the creator (John Carney) wished he could change, and I think he made the perfect tweaks to it in the stage version. If you’ve watched the movie, you know that the ending has no closure at all. The musical fixes that and it’s a bit more satisfying as an audience member to have closure at the end, especially when the show has as many depressing moments as this one.

Overall, there’s definitely no drastic deviations from the movie, but the stage version is definitely not a carbon copy of the film. For lack of better wording, I’d say the stage version is just more “theatrical.” It’s beautiful just like the movie and I’d recommend it to anyone as soon as it’s staged again, whether it be in Boston, on Broadway, Tour, or West End. I don’t blame you for your reluctance though, there’s always a bit of fear when a favorite movie gets a stage adaptation.

EDIT: I know Sing Street (musical) isn’t being staged anywhere atm but if you’re reading this and wanna learn more about it, listen to the OBCR, watch videos of the precious and talented OBC on YouTube, read reviews from NYTW, join the fandom and get to know the show because it’s amazing and deserves all the love!!

#thanks for the ask! #sing street

[magnificentdreamlandblizzard]

Name: I’m not going to give anyone my real name, so just call me Chalen! (The name of my Tokyo Ghoul Oc.)

Gender: They/them/he/him

Fav color: Pink, purple, and maybe white and black?

Likes: Death Note, Komi can’t communicate, Villains Are Destined to Die, Project Sekai,Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Outerplane, Epic Seven,Sword Art Online,etc.

Hobbies: Writing, mindlessly scrolling Tumblr 😃, grinding in games like Project Sekai, and art.

Hi I’m Chalen, someone with a notes app and a limited amount of storage that gets smaller each day.

I write a lot of fan-fictions, because I’m swimming deep in the 100000000 fandoms I’m in :D. Just like my fanfics, I also take asks and requests for my art as long as it’s not any of the following:

Stories:

Pedophila

Racism

Any sort of homophobia 

Discrimination of any kind

Incest

Art:

Nudity

^ These may be added too if I feel the need too! ^

This is a blog that will probably be full of many random things. For instance I’ve thought about going more into depth about the human and what drives us cause I’ve been reading books like that, or trying to answer the hard questions Death Note poses.

One of the most important parts of my blog is that:

⚠️ MY MESSAGES DO NOT WORK AT ALL⚠️ 

I appreciate seeing the little number go up by my messages, and imaging who may be messaging me, but it’s also sort of frustrating. I know that not all of you may not know about my technical issues with my messages, but it makes me sad that I can’t see what you guys are sending.

Instead, you guys are free to drop stuff off in my asks, and you have a 99% chance of responding to you! After all, I check Tumblr maybe with a minimum of once a day, so your ask has a high chance of being seen! (Seriously you could probably even send me your Starbucks order and I’d respond with something like “yum yum did you get me anything.)

I will do art and lore for your Oc too by the way! Like one of my favorite writers, @yandere-writer-momo says. “If there is a specific original character you have in your head that you’d like to come to life, just let me know. I’ll do my best to make it.”

This is the end of my intro for right now, and I hope you have a good day and know you are loved!

(Potential kofi here?)

Master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/magnificentdreamlandblizzard/746884220471869440/haha-i-wrote-a-long-story-while-bored-it?source=share   (A draft that got pretty long in my notes so I decided to post it)

Once you’re gone you’re lost forever:

https://www.tumblr.com/magnificentdreamlandblizzard/745248401755602944/once-youre-gone-youre-lost-forever?source=share     (1)

https://www.tumblr.com/magnificentdreamlandblizzard/745288124249341952/once-youre-gone-youre-lost-forever?source=share       (2)

https://www.tumblr.com/magnificentdreamlandblizzard/747052042724442112/once-youre-gone-youre-lost-forever?source=share (3)

https://www.tumblr.com/magnificentdreamlandblizzard/747052212866433024/once-youre-gone-youre-lost-forever?source=share (4 and might be changed)

#intro post #introduction #introductory post

[killerandhealerqueen]

Hello new users!  I know everyone is making these posts, but I’m just gonna add my two cents, especially if you’re a writer/reader:

Writers:

1. Tag your shit properly.  If there are trigger warnings in your fic, you better fucking tag them.  Don’t censor the trigger word either.  I’m sure you’ve seen it going around on many posts but you censoring the word makes it hard for users to blacklist stuff.  Same goes for “x reader” or “x oc”.  You better fucking tag that

2. You can asks for prompts!  It’s a great way to connect with people and get your writing out there!

3. If you have certain fandoms that you write for, you can make a pinned post listing what fandoms you write for, what type of fics/prompts you’re willing to write and what you’re not willing to write.  Writing this out makes it easy for people to see what’s okay and what’s not okay to send you prompt wise.  You can use my pinned post as an example: ☆ﾟ･:*:･｡★ﾟ FANDOMS, OTPS AND TROPES ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

4. Reblog prompt lists!  Prompt lists are a great way for you to get your brain juices flowing if you don’t want to have to think of prompts for yourself!  (Just note that even if you reblog prompt lists, people might not send you prompts.  Don’t take it personally)

5. Reblog questions/asks games about fanfiction/writing!  If you love talking about your works as much as I do, these ask games are a great way to talk about your fics and again, interact with your mutuals (Again, just note that even if you reblog these games, people might not send you asks/questions.  Don’t take it personally)

6. If you see someone else have the same idea as you for a fic, that’s okay!  Go ahead and write your fic anyways the way you want to.  It’s your fic and you’re not stealing anyone else’s spotlight for liking an idea and wanting to write about it.  If people send you hate for it, just delete it or block them.  That’s a them problem, not a you problem

7. Easy way for people to find your writing is if you use a tag like “nickname or username writes”.  I use “sass writes” that goes on every prompt/fic that I’ve written so that it’s easy for people to find your fics within your blog

8. Make a masterlist of all the fics you write!  That way they’re all in one place and again, it makes it easy for people to find your work and not have to scroll endlessly through your blog (it helps if you reblog the masterlist every now and then whenever you update it.  I’d say reblog it after every couple of fics posted, just so that your mutuals know that “oh hey, more fics have been posted”)

9. Follow other writers!  Get to be their friends!  We’re all really nice here and we want to encourage your writing!  Bouncing off ideas with other writers is literally the best thing ever!

10. It’s okay to reblog your own work!  Lots of us live in different time zones so reblogging your work is great for those of us who didn’t get to see your work when you originally posted it.  And you’re allowed to reblog your own work as many times as you want, it’s your blog, go fucking nuts

11. If you have an AO3 account, cross post your work!  If you answer tumblr prompts here, post them over on AO3 so your AO3 readers can enjoy them and if you post works over there, cross-post your works here so that your followers can reblog/like your work and go check it out.  AO3 has a “tumblr” button whenever you click “share” so it allows cross-posting!

12. If you have an on-going series that you’re posting here, ask people if they’d like to be added to a tag list so that they can be notified every time you post a new chapter

Readers:

13. Unless the writer asks for concrit or feedback on their fics, DO NOT fucking give it to them.  If they didn’t ask, don’t say it.  If you wouldn’t say it to a person irl, don’t say it to a person online.  This isn’t English class.  We’re not asking you to peer review our work and make comments about it

14. Writers do, however, love receiving comments, so feel free to scream in the tags about our fics, scream about it in the replies, or even send us asks and give a whole ass book report.  We love book reports on our fics so don’t be afraid to send us some.  And even if you don’t know what to comment, commenting an emoji or an “I like this” is enough.  We promise you, there’s no right or wrong way to comment your love for a fic

15. Many other creators have said this but REBLOG OUR WORKS.  It means a lot to us writers to know that people enjoy our work and want to keep it on their blog.  Liking our fic is fine, but we prefer reblogs (but we’re not gonna get up in arms about it if you don’t.  Some do, some don’t.  I’m one of the people who don’t)

16. Same rule that applies to AO3 writers applies to writers on here: we do not harass an author about chapter updates.  We don’t do that.  For many of us, writing is a hobby, not a full time job.  So please be patient with us if we’re answering prompts or working on new chapters.  Harassment will only either get you blocked or have the chapters delayed because of the constant nagging

17. If you want to send a prompt to your favorite author, you don’t have to send it with your blog attached!  Sending it via anonymous is a-okay.  If it helps, you can sign off with a little emoji and it sort of becomes like your thing, especially if the author you send asks to has a tagging system (like I do) where they tag their anons with a special tag. It makes you feel connected and special with the person you’re interacting with

General Rules:

18. DO NOT TOUCH A WRITER’S WORK.  DO NOT REPOST/RETOUCH OUR WORKS OR ON GOD WE ARE NOT GOING TO BE HAPPY.  DO NOT TOUCH A CC’S WORK EITHER, GIF MAKERS AND ARTISTS ESPECIALLY.  WE WORK HARD AND SOMETIMES SPEND HOURS ON OUR CRAFT AND IF YOU REPOST OUR WORKS, YOU WILL GET BLOCKED.  BY A LOT OF PEOPLE.  BECAUSE WE WILL GO AND TELL OTHER CREATORS WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND HAVE THEM BLOCK YOU.  SO IF YOU DON’T WANT THAT, DON’T REPOST/RETOUCH OUR SHIT.  AND FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD, DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE PUT OUR SHIT INTO AI.  YOU WILL LOSE YOUR PRIVILEGES TO ALL FORMS OF ART IF YOU FUCKING DO THAT.  SO DON’T EVEN FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT

19. And finally DO NOT TAG YOUR ANTI STUFF WITH THE SHIP TAG.  If you’re against a ship or a pairing or whatever, make sure you put “anti-” before whatever ship or pairing you’re talking about.  Do NOT clog the tag with your negativity or you will get blocked.  We’re all just trying to have a good time here so please don’t make other people’s experience shitty by you not knowing how to properly tag your discourse/dislike of a ship/pairing

Anyways, have a great time here, we’re all really nice and we all want you to thrive!  If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

#sass talks #tumblr #just some general housekeeping rules #to new users