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fics-by-em · 11 months

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Amorous Facades

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

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Note: This is my first foray into Ted Lasso fanfiction so please be kind!

The story starts between episodes five and six of season two and while I will stick as close to the story as possible, things may be changed slightly or added as necessary!

I have a big chunk of the story planned out, but this is the only chapter I have written so far. I couldn't resist posting it to see what people think and gauge the response so please let me know what you think and hopefully there will be more chapters ready soon! :)

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Ophelia ‘Lia’ Adams was not a party animal.

She didn’t mind the occasional drink and had even been known to get drunk every once in a while, but going out to clubs every weekend and staying out all night was not her idea of a good time.

However, Lia was a good friend with a tendency to be a little too self-sacrificing and that was how she’d been roped into throwing on a dress that was far too short to be decent and sipping on a tequila shot as she got herself ready for a wild night out.

“You’re supposed to drink it all in one go,” her friend, Katie, teased her as she flopped onto her bed. “It’s a shot, not a cocktail.”

“I know, but shots always make me feel sick.”

“Right,” Katie giggled. “I forgot you’re like twenty-four going on sixty.”

Lia huffed, rolling her eyes in the mirror as she straightened her hair and mumbled out a quiet and half-hearted ‘am not’ in protest.

“You are,” Katie insisted. “But I appreciate that you’re actually coming out tonight so I won’t tease you about it too much.”

“Good, because I can still change my mind,” Lia pointed out. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Club 95!”

The grin that slid onto Katie’s face made her excitement clear, but Lia raised an eyebrow.

“And how are we planning to get in there? Isn’t it basically exclusive to celebrities? People like us usually just spend the night queuing up outside places like that praying that we’ll get in.”

“Not tonight,” Katie practically sang with glee. “Daniel has a connection - through his uncle or something - and he got us all on the guest list.”

As soon as the name left her mouth, Lia’s head snapped around so fast she almost ripped the hair clamped in her straightener right out of her head.

“Daniel’s going to be there? You never told me that!”

“Of course he is,” Katie rolled her eyes. “He’s Mike’s best friend.”

Mike was Katie’s boyfriend and considering the reason they were even going out was to celebrate his birthday, it did make sense that his best friend would be there, but the thought still made Lia’s skin crawl.

Daniel was sleezy. There was no other way to describe him. He consistently made her uncomfortable with unwanted advances and he was completely undeterred by the fact that she rejected him every single time. Of course, he mostly accosted her when they were alone, but Katie and Mike had seen him in action harassing other women so she really had no idea why Mike insisted on being his friend. Whenever she confronted him about it, Mike would shrug and remind her that he’d known him since they were kids before insisting that he wasn’t really that bad and Lia would huff, roll her eyes and eventually decided to just do her best to avoid any events he might be at in the future. She’d so successfully avoided being in his company that she’d almost forgot he existed and she cursed herself for slipping up.

A sigh fell from her lips as she quickly lifted the tequila shot off of the dresser in front of her and finally downed what was left in the tiny glass. She heard Katie let out a cheer at her sudden enthusiasm, but Lia rolled her eyes as she held out the shot glass for a refill.

“There’s no way I can spend an evening in Daniel’s company if I’m sober.”

“Well, then you better pick up the pace,” Katie informed her as she poured them both another shot. “Because they’re going to be here in about half an hour.”

With a groan, Lia felt even the slightest hint of potential excitement for the evening slipping away. Knowing it was too late to back out, she tossed back the shot as soon as it was poured in the hopes that she could get herself feeling fuzzy enough by the time that Daniel was present to find him at least mildly tolerable.

When Mike and Daniel first arrived at the flat that Lia and Katie shared, it almost seemed like Daniel had turned over a new leaf in the months since Lia had seen him. He seemed calmer, less conceited and less misogynistic than she remembered him being and she relaxed slightly as she thought that maybe the night could still be fun after all. However, when they were leaving and she bent over to do up the zip on the heeled boots she was wearing and his hand ‘grazed’ her ass, she realized that his apparent change was too good to be true.

She’d jumped away from him with a squeak of displeasure, but he’d simply smirked and brushed it off as an accident caused by the narrow hallway and the close proximity it created. Lia didn’t buy it and flashed him a glare, but Katie’s pleading eyes had her letting it go in an attempt to keep the peace. She reluctantly laughed it off, but any glimmer of hope for civility between them had disappeared.

And it only got worse when they got to the club.

As promised, Daniel had led them past the long queue of people desperate for a way through the swanky red ropes at the door and straight inside, but as they settled in a booth in a dark back corner, it became clear that Daniel expected more than just a thank you for his efforts. With Katie and Mike tucked together on the opposite side of the table - distracted by each other - the occasional squeeze of Lia’s knee or stroke of her thigh went mostly unnoticed by them despite her growing discomfort and simmering rage. She kept up the steady pace of her drinking, but the nagging thought that it might be better to keep her wits about her was rising in her mind the more handsy that Daniel got. However, when Katie and Mike announced they were heading to the dancefloor and Daniel took advantage of the moment when Lia stood up to follow them to pull her down into his lap, her fury and disgust had her storming towards the bar to get another drink the moment she could drag herself out of his grip.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to loudly and openly demand that Daniel stop groping her and warn him never to touch another woman without her consent again. But it was Mike’s birthday and she also didn’t want to ruin his night.

So, the scream stayed in her throat, tightening and constricting her ability to breath until she was worried that she might pass out if she didn’t get something to take the edge off of her frustration soon. The busy club and crowded space in front of the bar did nothing to ease her anxiety as it slowed her pursuit of relief, but her restraint was finally broken when she felt an arm slide around her waist and smelt the waft of a cologne that told her the arm belonged to Daniel.

“Stop!” Her voice was firm and the way she ripped herself away from him left no room for misinterpretation, but the smirk on his face told her that he wasn’t going to pay much attention to the request. “I don’t want you to touch me again!”

“Oh, come on, Lia! Don’t be so dramatic. Let me buy you a drink and we can hang out while Mike and Katie are having a dance.”

He moved closer, but Lia stayed strong and held out her arm to keep some distance between them.

“No, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He moved closer and Lia felt her throat tightening even more as panic gripped her until Daniel suddenly paused his advances and she felt a different arm drape loosely over her shoulders. She tensed as she turned to see who was touching her now and was surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

“Hiya, babe!” The greeting was overly familiar for a stranger, but the soft smile on his face urged her to play along and had her relaxing into his body. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“I didn’t know we were coming here.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie as she hadn’t known where they would be spending their evening, but considering she didn’t know the man who had come to her rescue she wouldn’t have been able to tell him if she had. The entire interaction had stopped Daniel in his tracks, but Lia found the complete shock on his face a little offensive. It looked almost as if the idea of another man being interested in her was incomprehensible for him, but the man holding her spoke up again before he could voice his disbelief.

“Is this guy bothering you?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Daniel found his confidence again and cut her off.

“Are you serious?” He asked, mouth agape. “You know Jamie Tartt the footballer?”

Still slightly unsure of what exactly was happening, Lia shrugged noncommittally, but smiled sweetly at the man - apparently ‘Jamie’ - as she felt him tighten his grip.

“Yeah, mate,” he confirmed, the word sounding more like a threat than a term of endearment. “She knows me really well if you know what I’m sayin’ so I suggest you piss off.”

Daniel hesitated as his eyes flicked between them as if he was puzzling out whether or not he was being fooled and Lia held her breath as she silently prayed that they’d been convincing enough, only relaxing when he finally scoffed and shook his head.

“Whatever, she’s not worth the hassle.”

He didn’t stick around for a reaction to his parting shot, but Jamie waited until he’d stormed off and disappeared into the crowd to let his arm fall from her shoulders.

“Do you know him?”

“Unfortunately.”

A sigh fell from her lips as she nodded her head and despite the loud music blasting out from the dancefloor, she heard the disbelief in his voice loud and clear as he asked his next question.

“Is he your friend?”

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

“Good, because he seems like an absolute prick.”

His blunt honesty had a giggle slipping past her lips as she nodded in agreement.

“That is a pretty spot on assessment,” she admitted. “So, thank you very much for coming to my rescue, Jamie Tartt the footballer.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded before flashing her a smirk. “Now, why don’t you buy me a drink? You know, for being so chivalrous.”

It was a bold - borderline cocky - request, but Lia found herself laughing again as there was something about her knight in shining armor that put her at ease. He wasn’t arrogant in the off-putting way that Daniel was, it was more of an endearing self-confidence that he exuded. She didn’t even want to think about what could have happened had he not just stepped in and scared Daniel off so she eagerly and happily led him to the bar to compensate him for his kindness.

The biggest downside that Lia found to being an inexperienced drinker was that her low level of exposure to alcohol made her much more susceptible to hangovers than those who were used to drinking copious amounts of liquor.

And when she woke up the night after Mike’s birthday celebrations, she was immediately reminded of that fact.

Her stomach churned, her head throbbed and before she even opened her eyes it felt like she was feeling worse and worse with every passing moment. The more the fogginess of sleep drained from her mind, the more pains and discomfort she became aware of and she briefly wondered if she’d finally gone too far and might actually die from her hangover as she felt like there was truly no way that she could feel worse than she did in that moment.

That is, until she felt the bed shift as the person who was apparently laying beside her rolled over and let out a groan. A groan that definitely didn’t belong to her female flatmate.

Her eyes snapped open as panic took over and had her heart pounding in her chest. The room she was in was unfamiliar to her. The sheets she was wrapped in were far too expensive to be her own. She realized that she had no idea where she was and as she also began to realize that she couldn’t remember much of the night, her panic began to grow. The memory of her interaction with Daniel haunted her, but even though he was a horrible and misogynistic sleaze, she clung to a shred of hope that he wouldn’t be awful enough to take advantage of her if she was delirious - or do anything himself to get her in such a state.

With her thudding heartbeat echoing in her ears, she slowly rolled over and was instantly flooded with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” she let out the breath she’d been holding. “It’s you.”

Beside her was not the man who’d spent most of the part of the evening that she could recall harassing her, but the man who had saved her from him. His name - Jamie Tartt the footballer - sprang into her head as did a few blurry memories of the start of their evening together, but how she’d ended up in his bed was still a mystery to her.

“Course it’s me,” Jamie huffed, cracking an eye to look at her with a grimace on his face that told her he was feeling much the same as she was. “Who were you expecting?”

“No one,” Lia admitted. “I expected to wake up in my own bed, alone.”

Jamie grunted in response, letting his eye drift shut again as a silence settled between them until Lia worked up the courage to ask the question that was burning in her mind.

“Did we…uh…Did we…you know?”

If she had the energy to be embarrassed then Lia imagined her cheeks would probably be burning from her childish attempt at asking if they’d had sex, but her current hungover state left her unable to care even when Jamie opened his eyes again and flashed her a smirk.

“Did we fuck?” He clarified, waiting for her to nod before he half-heartedly attempted to shrug. “If I’m bein’ honest with ya, I can’t remember. But based on the fact that I still have my pants on and I’m not even under the blanket, I’m gonna say no.”

Another sigh of relief slipped from Lia's lips as he confirmed her suspicions. Her bra and underwear were still firmly in place despite her missing dress so she’d been hopeful that they hadn’t gone too far, but she had to admit that his handsome face and what she could see of his toned body were quite enticing and she couldn’t have blamed herself for giving into the temptation.

“That’s good, especially if we both can’t even remember it.”

Clearly a man of few words after such a heavy night of drinking, Jamie simply hummed in agreement, but as Lia gave up on conversation and let her arm fall over her face to shield her eyes from the sun streaming in through the window, Jamie seemed to find his voice.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned. “And especially if you’re fuckin’ married!”

“What? I’m not married?” Lia dropped her arm back down to the bed as her brow furrowed in confusion, but Jamie quickly lifted it back up to show her the engagement ring and wedding band resting on her ring finger. However, even through the shock and confusion, the ring wrapped around his own finger didn’t escape her notice as her panic returned in full force. “Are you married?”

“No, what are you on about?”

The confusion in Jamie’s face matched her own, but an idea was taking root in Lia’s mind that she just couldn’t shake. It was ridiculous. It was unrealistic. It was something that only happened in movies. But it was starting to seem like the only explanation. Pulling her arm from Jamie’s grip, she moved to sit up as fast as her weary body would allow and she leaned back against the headboard as she racked her exhausted brain for any kind of answer. However, her movement and the shift of the blanket filled the room with the sound of crinkling paper and she noticed a picture resting on the duvet between their legs.

A picture that created almost as many questions as it answered.

A picture of her and Jamie kissing at an altar in what appeared to be their wedding.

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Lia gasped, reaching for the picture to get a closer look. “This can not be happening.”

Jamie was still looking at her like she’d lost her mind until she held out the picture for him.

“Oh, fuck.” His eyes widened as he took the paper from her hand. “Are we married?”

“No, there’s no way,” Lia insisted, hopelessly wishing her brain was working at full capacity. “There’s no way that’s legal. We would have needed a marriage license and those take time. There’s laws about it, there’s rules you have to follow.”

“Not if you’re rich enough,” Jamie pointed out. “People will let you do anything for enough money.”

“I don’t have any money!”

“Okay, but I do.”

He said it like it was obvious, but it only added to Lia’s confusion.

“Who are you?” She asked, starting to sound as frantic as she felt. “I know you’re Jamie Tartt the footballer, but what does that mean?”

“It means I’m Jamie Tartt and a footballer,” he rather unhelpfully explained. “I play for AFC Richmond, like, professionally.”

“So, you’re basically like a celebrity?”

“I guess so, yeah. To some people.”

“And you have the money to bribe your way into a drunken, last minute marriage?”

“Probably,” Jamie shrugged. “Can’t say that I’ve ever tried.”

“How are you so calm about this?” The question made her exasperation clear, but she was panicking and his nonchalant demeanor was getting under her skin. “We’re married, Jamie! This is a nightmare.”

“First of all, that’s offensive,” he informed her, tossing the picture back down on the bed. “And I’m too fucking hungover to care. We don’t even know if it’s real.”

“Okay, but this,” Lia held her hand up in front of his face to remind him of her rings. “Makes it seem pretty real.”

“I dunno,” Jamie smirked, grabbing her wrist to stop her from moving her hand away. “Because if I was actually gonna propose, it wouldn’t be with a ring that cheap.”

“And surely it would be to someone whose name you actually know.”

“Course I know your name,” Jamie insisted. His tone was indignant, but as Lia patiently waited for him to elaborate, he quickly caved as he let go of her hand. “Alright, so maybe I can’t remember it right now, but I probably knew it last night.”

Lia stared at him for a moment before flopping back against the pillow and letting out a sigh as she raised a hand to rub at her temples in an attempt to soothe her pounding headache.

“It’s Lia,” she informed him. “This is crazy. What are we going to do?”

“Take a nap?” His suggestion was met with a huff of protest and a request for him to take it seriously, but he argued that he was. “I have training later, I need to sleep this off.”

It was a hard point to argue with when a nap did sound so appealing, but the uncertainty of the situation had Lia feeling overwhelmed and in her fragile state, her emotions bubbled to the surface.

“Please, Jamie,” Lia practically whispered, blinking back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. “We need to figure this out.”

The emotion in her voice caught Jamie’s attention and he flicked his eyes up to meet hers. There was concern on his face, but it was clear that he was fighting some kind of internal battle - probably between whether he should do something to ease her worries or stick with his plan to take a nap - until after a moment of deep thought, he let out a sigh and nodded his head.

“Alright, but can we at least stop to get a coffee on the way?”

“On the way where?”

“To Richmond,” he clarified, dragging himself out of bed and chivalrously passing Lia her dress that was on the floor by his feet. “I know some people who can probably help us.”

“Oh, perfect, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Jamie’s words were said with a sigh that made it clear to Lia just how much of a struggle it had been for him to get out of bed, but as he disappeared into the bathroom and she climbed out of bed herself, the effort that such a simple movement took made her realize that Jamie might have been on to something when he suggested they take a nap.

“Well, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tartt.”

The greeting came from a tall, blonde woman who - from her seat behind a large desk - appeared to be the owner of the office Jamie had taken her to. Their entrance had also caught the attention of the other woman sitting by the desk and the dark haired man beside her. When they’d arrived at the football stadium, Lia had worried that Jamie had simply been trying to shut her up by saying he had someone who could help them and had instead brought her with him to the training he’d mentioned earlier with the expectation that she’d find her own way home, but she was reassured that it still seemed like he had some kind of plan.

“How do you know about that?”

Jamie pulled two more chairs over to the desk, gesturing for Lia to sit down as the woman who’d greeted them pointed to the newspaper in front of her. There on the front page was a copy of the picture they’d found when they woke up and a snappy headline about Tartt being off the market.

“Oh my god,” she groaned. “This is so bad. I still can’t believe that it’s even legal for a bar to host last minute weddings for incredibly intoxicated people!”

“Luckily, I don’t think it is,” the woman informed her before adding an introduction. “I’m Rebecca Welton, owner of AFC Richmond, and this is Keeley Jones, our head of marketing and Roy Kent, one of our coaches.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lia murmured. “I’m Lia Adams, probably one of the most embarrassed people in the country right now.”

“It’s alright,” Keeley assured her with a warm smile. “We all do stupid shit sometimes, everyone will forget all about it in a couple weeks.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement before adding, “So, what can we do for you both?”

“I thought you’d know what to do,” Jamie shrugged. “Help us figure out if it’s legal and all that.”

“I can reach out to some people that should be able to help,” Rebecca agreed, picking up her phone and quickly typing away. “But I can almost guarantee you that whatever ceremony you had last night was not legally binding.”

Relief washed over Lia as she sank back into her chair, hoping that Rebecca’s assurances would prove to be true.

“What’s the story with you two anyway?” Keeley asked. “How did you meet?”

“Last night at a bar,” Jamie informed them before smugly adding, “I saved her from some guy that was being a prick.”

“You only just met last night and decided to get married that fast? That’s so romantic!”

Keeley’s use of the word ‘romantic’ wasn’t exactly the one that Lia would have chosen, but Roy - who had been simply watching them intensely the whole time - spoke up before she could argue.

“Well, it makes sense,” he scoffed. “If she spent any longer in his company than she never would have agreed to marry him.”

“Shut up, old man,” Jamie shot back. “Don’t be such a dick.”

Anger flashed across Roy’s face, but a ping from Rebecca’s phone distracted everyone before he could answer.

“Ah, just what I thought,” she smiled as she read the message. “There is no way that you are actually legally married and my contacts found no trace of an application for a marriage license under either of your names.”

Hearing once and for all that they hadn’t made too much of a mess with their drunken wild adventure was almost enough to have Lia squealing with glee, but the headache that was still lingering in her poor, dehydrated brain had her settling for an ear to ear grin.

“Wow, thank you so much for your help. That was such a quick response.”

“I only work with the best,” Rebecca informed her, flashing her a wink. “So, you’re both free to go your separate ways.”

“Well, hang on a minute,” Jamie protested. “This could actually be good for me.”

“How so?”

The shock was clear in Lia’s voice, but as she looked around the room it seemed her confusion was shared by almost everyone there.

“Well, I have a bit of a bad reputation,” he admitted, providing Lia with more questions than answers. “And this might make people start giving me the benefit of the doubt. You know, if I’m a family man.”

There was a smirk on his face, but Lia wasn’t entirely sure that she liked what it seemed like he was suggesting as she pressed for more information.

“What kind of a bad reputation do you have?”

“People think that I’m a bit of a cocky prick who sleeps around a lot.”

“Because you are a cocky prick who sleeps around a lot.”

The interjection came from Roy, but Jamie kept his cool as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know, but I’m tryin’ to be better.”

“And what?” Lia questioned, her skepticism clear in her voice. “You want to marry me to help convince people that you’ve changed?”

“Not, like, for real,” he assured her. “But it’s already all over the papers, we can just let people think that it’s real.”

The suggestion had a giggle falling from Lia’s lips as she was so sure that there was no way he was serious until Keeley jumped into the conversation.

“It would actually probably help Jamie out a lot,” she reluctantly agreed. “It would be good for people to see that there’s another side to him.”

The shock that she felt hearing those words leave Keeley’s mouth had her so stunned that she was unable to formulate any kind of response. However, she was grateful that as she sat with her jaw dropped, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening, Rebecca - who appeared to be just as aghast as she was - chimed in with some sense.

“You’re not actually serious, are you?” She questioned. “How on earth could you sell it? He was just galavanting around on TV bragging about his sexual escapades, no one will believe this is some romantic love match.”

The longer the conversation went on, the more questions Lia had about the man sitting beside her, but before she could question what exactly Rebecca was referring to, Jamie had a solution to the problem she’d brought up.

“Could say that we were on a break,” he shrugged. “But she forgave me when I got home. I’ll even admit to running back with me tail between me legs, say that I only went on the show because I was so heartbroken.”

To Lia’s horror, it seemed that Jamie’s plan eased Rebecca’s doubts as her face shifted from disgust into something that seemed much more understanding.

“Okay, wait,” she spoke up, finally finding her voice. “I have a few questions about all this. Like, first of all, why were you bragging about your sexual escapades on TV?”

“I was on that island dating show a few months ago.”

She knew the one he was talking about and she cringed, knowing the type of people who went on that kind of show and the type of antics they got up to.

“And now you’re trying to rebrand yourself to change the public's perception of you?”

“I’m trying to be a better person,” he clarified. “And it would be nice if everyone didn’t assume that I’m still a prick.”

Roy scoffed, earning a quick ‘shh’ from Keeley, but Lia had to admit that she was leaning more towards sharing his skepticism. She liked to give people the benefit of the doubt and was a firm believer that even good people sometimes made bad decisions and were deserving of a second chance, but if it had only been a few months since he was on some trashy reality TV show then she was unsure of how much he could have changed in such a short amount of time.

“That’s admirable,” she relented. “But why do you want me to help you make that happen?”

“Because there’s already pictures of the two of you together all over the papers,” Keeley reminded her. “It would be an easier sell than if we found someone else to help out.”

“But none of you know anything about me. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“Are you?”

The question came from Jamie and the genuine concern on his face would have been amusing under different circumstances.

“No, but if I was then I probably wouldn’t admit it,” she pointed out. “It just seems crazy to me that you’re so willing to jump into some kind of arrangement with me when all you know about me is that sometimes I get drunk and make incredibly irresponsible decisions like getting ‘married’ to a handsome stranger.”

She saw a smirk sliding onto Jamie’s face that only had her annoyance growing, but she was quickly distracted by Keeley sheepishly waving her phone in the air.

“I’ve been creeping your social media while we’ve been sat here,” she admitted. “Obviously you could have some deep dark secrets that no one knows, but from what I can tell you seem like quite a sweetheart and you’re really fucking adorable.”

The compliment had Lia’s cheeks heating up, but the insanity of what was being suggested still weighed on her. Maybe in the world of celebrities - even minor ones as many people would class professional footballers to be - it was a normal thing to fake a relationship to sway public opinion, but in Lia’s world that wasn’t something that happened every day and she felt like any moment everyone would burst out laughing and shout ‘gotcha!’ like she was on some kind of prank show.

“You don’t have to agree to anything if you’re not comfortable,” Rebecca assured her, picking up on her hesitation. “This is a completely insane request and everyone will completely understand if it’s too much to ask.”

Lia got the feeling that her words were just as much a reminder for the people waiting for her response as they were to reassure her, but as ridiculous as the situation was, she had to admit that she was intrigued. There was nothing else going on in her romantic life and despite the red flag of Jamie’s reputation apparently being in dire need of fixing, he seemed like a nice guy and they’d had fun the night before from what she could remember. Plus, she’d be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive and there were worse things in life than pretending some hot, rich footballer was your husband.

“Well, what would be in it for me?” she asked after a moment of thought. “You get the benefit of having your reputation boosted, but what do I get out of this?”

“I can make it worth your while.” Jamie’s offer was said with a wink and smirk, but despite the flush of heat that washed over Lia at the thought of what he was alluding to, she rolled her eyes and waited for him to make what he clearly thought was a more enticing offer. “Alright, I’ll pay ya.”

“Like I’m some kind of escort?”

“No! I just meant that I’ll take care of you!”

“Oh, like a sugar daddy?”

“No! That’s not what I mean. You’re twisting my words!”

Lia was about to protest and argue that she was simply trying to understand what he was offering and insist that she was not comfortable with any kind of money being exchanged as if he was hiring her to be his wife, but Rebecca - who Lia was finding to be an ever present voice of wisdom - stepped in to help them find a more productive way to resolve the issue.

“Lia, is there anything in particular that you would like to get out of the arrangement?”

It was a much more direct way to figure it out instead of Jamie offering her things she was going to turn down, but it was such a big question that she wasn’t really sure how to answer. She shrugged as she racked her brain for some way to make the situation mutually beneficial until eventually an idea popped into her head.

“My dad owns a bookstore,” she informed them, a flash of excitement running through her as she realized that there might actually be a positive side to the mess she’d gotten herself into. “It’s just a small local one, but he’s had it for years - since before I was born - and now with all the big chains he’s finding it harder to compete. Maybe if there was some way for Jamie to subtly promote it and get a few extra customers in the door then that could be really helpful.”

“There’s one big problem with that,” Roy informed her, a smirk sliding onto his face. “No one’s ever gonna believe that Jamie Tartt knows how to read.”

“Oh, piss off,” Jamie spat as Keeley warned him to be quiet and keep any unhelpful opinions to himself. “I can so read and I’m always happy to support local businesses.”

It was clear from the strain on his face that Roy had more thoughts he was dying to share, but a stern look from Keeley had him keeping quiet as Lia sat up a little straighter and tried to control her newfound enthusiasm for their plan.

“That would really help me out. So, if you’re willing to do that then I am willing to pretend that I am Mrs. Tartt,” she agreed. “But we’ll have to set up some ground rules.”

It was Jamie’s turn to look hesitant and suspicious as he cautiously nodded his head.

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

“You won’t be able to sleep with anyone,” she informed him. “People talk and if you’re already going to let them all think I was stupid enough to take you back after you ditched me to go be a whore on TV then I won’t do if it you’re going to let them think I was stupid enough to marry you even though you’re cheating on me.”

“I didn’t ditch you to be a whore on TV, I ditched you and then I was a whore on TV.”

“Semantics,” Lia rolled her eyes. “That’s my number one rule so if you’re not okay with being celibate then I can’t do this.”

Jamie looked almost physically pained by the idea, but after a moment of internal debate, he reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Anything else?”

They spent the next half an hour debating the logistics of their arrangement. Neither side had too many demands other than Lia’s request for him to stop seeing other people and Jamie requesting for her to move in with him in case photographers were sniffing around, but they also had to figure out what their official story would be. In the end, they came up with two versions. For the general public, they would confirm that their late night drunken wedding was simply a joke and a bit of fun, but admit that they’d been together for a while and had a small, private wedding a few weeks before. For close friends and family who would have been in attendance at said wedding and would therefore know it wasn’t true and for Jamie’s teammates - some of whom were present at for their drunken nuptials according to the pictures in the paper - they would admit that they were just pretending to be married to brighten up Jamie’s reputation, but would tell everyone that they’d been dating since Jamie returned from his excursion into reality TV.

Lia was still struggling to wrap her mind around the situation, but everyone had assured her that she could bail at any point if it became too much so she was willing to give it a shot - especially if it meant helping out her dad’s business. By the time they were done discussing all the ins and outs, she was very much ready for a nap and not at all ready to face the millions of texts that she knew were waiting for her from the near constant buzzing of her phone. Jamie and Roy had to get ready for training, but Lia was very grateful that Jamie took a little detour to walk her back out to his car.

“I can take the bus,” she assured him as he tried to hand her his keys. “Or how will you get home?”

“Someone will give me a ride,” he insisted, jangling the keys until she tentatively took them from his hand. She mumbled out a ‘thanks’ so softly that she wasn’t even sure he would have heard until he replied. “It’s the least I can do after what you’re doing for me. I promise I’m not as bad as you’re probably imagining. Or, I’m tryin’ not to be.”

There was something about the vulnerability in his voice that tugged on Lia’s heartstrings. He was basically a stranger to her and she didn’t know his story, but it was clear to her that he truly was trying to be a better person despite whatever he’d done in his past. She was fully intending to Google him as soon as she got home just to make sure that the sins he was trying to atone for weren’t anything as extreme as murder or any kind of violence, but there was something about him that made her want to give him the benefit of the doubt and there was obviously something that she’d seen in him the night before that made her like him enough to marry him.

“I believe you,” she smiled. “But we can talk about it later. Good luck with your training, I hope your hangover doesn’t hold you back too much.”

Jamie scoffed out a laugh as they both knew that he wouldn’t be in top form that afternoon, but then he surprised her as he leaned in to press a kiss on her cheek. She stood stunned even after he’d pulled away, shocked by the comforting familiarity of the gesture, but as Jamie opened the door of his car for her, she spotted a few of his teammates watching them from the pitch and realized why he’d done it.

“Oh, I don’t know your address,” she reminded him as she climbed into the car. “Can you text it to me?”

“I don’t have your number.”

Lia laughed at the absurdity of the situation - they were supposed to be married yet they barely knew any basic information about each other - and rattled off her phone number as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Once everything was sorted and Lia knew where she was heading after she went home to pick up her things, she said goodbye and headed out of the parking lot, but paused to blow a kiss out the window and laughed as Jamie dramatically caught it.

They had a relationship to sell after all - as he’d just reminded her - and she was relieved to see that they might be able to have a little fun along the way.

chapter two

#jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #amorous facades

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing request #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles prompt #harry styles x influencer y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble

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liitlesunshiine · 3 years

Text

Villainous Taste

(Detective reader x Villain Bakugo)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, mentions of death, degradation, manipulation, very bad bad stuff, dubcon, noncon, assault, sub/dom themes, don’t read if sensitive to violent themes

_________________

You sighed in frustration at your desk that was fully covered with a mountain of papers. It’s been over year now since you’ve been assigned to the notorious Bakugo, Katsuki case; and you’ve made little to no progress on catching the pesky fucking villain. You were losing your patience by the day. Especially since it felt like a personal attack on your ego that you still haven’t managed to pin this guy down. The great detective Y/N, Y/LN getting played and taken a fool by the villain himself. It’s not like you’ve made no progress though. There were times, many instances in fact, when you managed to pin the villain down. The constant face to face encounters only ending with the villain toying with you and taunting you. It’s honesty a surprise that you’re still alive considering all the chances he has had to kill you. Condescending dick, you were sure he was getting off by the chase. This all seemed to be a game to him and it infuriated you even more since you were practically entertaining it. He was thriving off the little interactions with the quirkless detective.

The way he would cockily stride his way to you with that big smirk smeared across his face. Eyes devouring your body that left an unsteady chill run down your spine. His presence held such power and intimidation that you couldn’t help but take steps back with every step he took forward. You always felt like a deer in headlights whenever he swaggered towards you. No amount of experience or expertise will ever get you accustomed to his predatory gaze.

“Go figure they’d send a quirkless bitch my way. They must really hate’ya.” He said with a rather amusing look, never breaking his eye contact with you. He grabbed a piece of your hair twisting it softly between his fingers, as if he were inspecting it. You could’ve sworn he was sniffing it too.

Yea, you were quirkless but you managed to hold your own ground. Having to work ten times as hard, having to prove yourself among your peers and having to earn the respect and position you have worked so tirelessly for years. While being quirkless was a hinderance or handicap as some would say, it was a mountain that you decided needed to be climbed. You reached its peak and planted your flag years ago. This title wasn’t given to you mindlessly. You dedicated tears, sweat, and blood to get to where you are now. Gained recognition from higher up heroes themselves and even managed to get assigned to Bakugo’s case; the most wanted and powerful villain in Japan. Now, you weren’t in denial either, you were well aware you stood no chance against the hero toe to toe. Hell, even the top tier heroes themselves barely made it out alive. You were simply here to pinpoint his locations and set up an area for his arrest. What seemed to be a simple task ended up as a wide scale massacre with Bakugo skimping through all the heroes nonchalantly. It was a complete blood bath. All the pro heroes who were posted for defense that day were to be blown up to pieces; the graphic scene till this day haunts you in your sleep. Sleepless nights and paranoia became a norm, with the image of him dripping with blood casually stalking towards you was something that you have not been able to shake out of your head for months now.

He had forced you into an alley that day. You were trying your best to steady your breathing and figure out an attempt to get the fuck out of this predicament. Your eyes skimmed for any opening, avoiding his intense gaze, looking anywhere but his blooded face.

You felt your back hit against the wall. He was now sickly close to you, you placed your head down in shame looking at his shoes rather than his face. Knowing damn well there was no way out of this situation. Beads of sweat ran down your back and colored your forehead. He slammed both his hands against the wall, causing you to jump, your head now trapped in between his forearms. His body hovered over, the smell of blood forcing its way into your nose. The intense body heat radiating off of him, had your head spinning. You felt frozen in place, every worst case scenario rushing through your mind, trying to stay steady while silently sobbing to yourself.

“My eyes are up here slut.” He gripped your chin roughly forcing your eyes to meet his. You took in the rough image of the villain in front of you. You saw the spiky unruly hair sticking out in every direction, some parts drenched in the blood of his victims. His sharp facial features looked even more intimidating under this light, little scars freckled his skin here and there scattered throughout; and his 5 o'clock shadow appearing in patches. It was his eyes that took you by surprise most. None of the pictures posted online, none of the documents you saw ever matched what appeared in front of you. The dark ruby colored eyes stared curiously back at you, analyzing your every move. The stare felt strangely intimate, and it probably would’ve been considering the circumstance. Y/N wasn’t sure if she was really fully conscious of what was happening, but having him so close was making her feel unnerved. Hell, even as a villain there are many people who admire and drool over the criminal. But seeing him this up close drenched in the blood of your peers was when the fear and guilt washed over you and you quickly snapped out of his trance. You were brought back to your senses and reminded of your current predicament. The images of the heroes fighting and dying at the hands of this animal quickly flooded in. Anger now overwhelming your sense. You reminded yourself that you were quirkless, not helpless. And with that thought, you broke your intense gaze away from him, slapping his hand off your chin and quickly spitting in his face. The action caught him rather off guard and you took this delayed response to knee him in the balls and bolt for it “FUCKING BITCH!” He roared.

Ever since then your encounters with Bakugo have been rather odd to say the least. You didn’t really know how else to describe it. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There were instances where he would get rather “touchy” and others where he would straight up just physically hurt you. It was a wind whirl of emotions and odd behavior whenever you encountered him. You didn’t know what to make of it either. He could’ve killed you months ago and the fact that he hasn’t, has left you feeling uncomfortable and confused. You felt yourself wanting to avoid him now, you haven’t been prioritizing his case anymore and you’ve lost all the spunk and passion you had in the beginning. Continuously failing to catch him and having countless of pro heroes dying at the hands of his explosions was something you no longer had the heart to bare.

Especially now that whenever you found him he’d just toy with you. It was beginning to seem as if he's looking forward to these little encounters, like he’s waiting for you. You began to notice the issue when he was becoming purposefully sloppy in hiding his tracks, it was if he was screaming to be caught. And after working his case for over a year Y/N knew his actions, how careful and precise he could be when he wanted to. A perfectionist in his own right but now, now he was practically waving a flag yelling at you where he is and to come and get him. This was a total 180 from his usual behavior and tactic and with each encounter becoming more unseemly; Y/N thought it was best to take a break from the scandalous villain. You decided on no longer participating on the missions. You couldn’t shake off the eerie feeling of this situation and where you were once so headstrong stepping into the battlefield, your courage and pride was stripped from you. Now the only thing you prioritize was staying the hell away from him. So with whatever information you did find on the villain was quickly handed over to the hero agency without any hesitation.

After a few months of you steering clear from the villain, his crime scenes were becoming more brutal and graphic by the week. His killing sprees drastically increasing and the victims were piling up. Y/N couldn’t help but to let guilt consume her. Thoughts of Bakugo infiltrated Y/N’s mind. From the moment she woke up, to while she’d desperately attempt to sleep. You felt yourself slowly going insane. As if your movements were being watched at all times. Your mental state began taking a toll on you and was affecting your work. You could no longer focus on anything for a span of time without the mere image of a bloodied Bakugo appearing in your head.

His case was one you guiltily found compassion in. One of the top students in UA Academy showing nothing but absolute potential to become a top ranking hero crumbled and fell to villainy after his long time friend Izuku Midoriya, was killed trying to save him. It appeared the guilt ate him up inside and as a result, Bakugo quickly blamed the heroes for being weak and unable and decided on taking matters to his own hands by killing everyone involved that day in Midoriya’s death. This paired on with him living in an abusive household led to what he is now, at least that’s what Y/N assumed. Y/N’s heart felt torn in two feeling somewhat sympathetic towards him due to his rough upbringing and traumatic past but either way it did not excuse the atrocities he was committing now. You felt yourself falling deeper into the rabbit hole because of this man. You finally decided this couldn’t continue on any longer. You requested a transfer, figure you cut your losses with Bakugo’s case and move on with your life.

It had been two weeks since you’ve transferred departments and moved into the inner city of Tokyo. It was new, it was adventurous, and it was a step forward. A perfect way to start fresh and move on. You felt the withdrawals from Bakugo’s case every now and then, mainly the guilt consuming you at night or whenever you saw the news appear on TV with a new crime he had committed. You did your best to avoid those emotions though. He was no longer your problem and you did everything you could anyways. Regardless, your attempts at catching him always resulted with blood on your hands.

It was a particular long day at work. You decided on staying later than usual setting up the finishing touches in your new office. You figured you’d also catch up on some cases to avoid getting swamped on Monday. By the end of it you came to realize it was a quarter past midnight. “Oh shit, I gotta get the hell outta here,’ you mumbled to yourself while you quickly got your personal things and organized the remaining loose ends in the office. You locked up everything and exited out the building, deciding on taking the metro home since you felt exhausted and couldn’t commit to the 2 mile walk.

You weren’t used to the metro being so empty and silent, but it was rather peaceful you thought. While the doors open you took no notice in the looming figure behind you. Exhausted and empty minded you walked in, to the doors behind you closing. You were instantly snapped out of your daze when you got shoved against the pole and a hand quickly covering your mouth to silence your scream.

“I’m real upset quirkless.” You immediately recognized the voice and a chill ran down your spine. You looked up to see the reflection of Bakugo off the window, he was staring at you dead in the eye. His signature scowl heavily evident on his face.

“Are you trying to hide from me? Made me follow your ass all the way to Tokyo now? Come on quirkless, you know I hate being teased.” He positioned himself to have his crotch lined up with your ass. You felt the pressure only getting bigger with each word he spoke. Your heart was racing by this point, you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp but he only gripped you harder as a result. He pulled your hair forcing you to look at him once again through the reflection.

“What happened slut, got bored of me? Am I not important enough anymore to catch? I’ve killed hundreds of people ya know, why did you stop trying to arrest me? Don’t tell me another villain got your attention. I don’t mind killing off the competition babe.” He gripped your hair even harder to the point where your skull was becoming numb, your cheeks already salted with tears.

“Fucking slut, I should seriously punish you. You’ve been making me work overtime.”

The train did a gradual stop and the doors open once again with two individuals walking in. Y/N felt a bit of hope wash over her until Bakugo moved to sit down on the opposite direction, forcing you on top and both your backs facing the two people who just walked in. Since he was wearing a hoodie no one would be able to recognize him from this angle. Right now the situation looked like two people who are just foundling on the train. You now sat directly on top of the villain’s lap. His hand still covering your mouth harshly. When you felt the bulge in his pants fully erect is when you began to whimper.

“Awe, did my slut miss me? Don’t worry detective, I’ll give you some nice warranted attention.” His free hand began to stroke your exposed thigh. The action immediately had you squish your thighs together and attempt to get away. But he simply responded with gripping you tighter.

“Try anything and I’ll fucking take you right here, right now. I’ll blow up everyone in this fucking train. Try me bitch.”

He placed a testing hand on your thigh and tapped it softly as if waiting for your reaction. You stayed still not daring to move. “Come on baby, open up for your favorite villain.”

You silently nodded your head no, more tears springing out. He gripped your thigh roughly.

“Y/N, I won’t ask again. Fucking open.” The authority and venom that came from that demand left you having goosebumps. The fear reached you and before you knew it, you had your legs opened and spread for him.

"Atta girl.” He hummed satisfied and began stroking your inner thigh. Absolute shame and guilt overtaking your senses, you felt completely out of control and held prisoner. Your mind trying to disassociate itself with the current reality you’re in right now. But only to being brought back with his rough hands violating you and his threatening tone looming over you. “Now, I’m gonna release my hand from your mouth. If you make any fucking noise, I’ll kill everyone in this metro and make you watch while they beg for their lives, m’kay.” You nodded rather quickly, you wouldn’t be dumb enough to even dare to do such a thing. Too many people have already fallen victim to this animal, you refuse to take part in anymore blame for it. You’d figure you just let him use you and quickly get over the situation and forget it ever happen. Maybe you’ll set up an attempt to try and kill him yourself. Either way, the sooner this is over the sooner you get to go home and ball your eyes out and come up with a plan. He hummed again with your response.

“Good girl.” His hand slowly and hesitantly left your mouth and snaked its way to your thighs. He gripped both of them and forced your legs to open wider.

"Really liking the skirt baby. Makes accessing you so much easier.” He chuckled in your ear, mocking you. Ironic considering this is the first time you’ve worn a skirt in over a year. Your fucking luck. This whole thing was just entertainment for him, bastard.

His hands slowly made themselves lower reaching the inner most part of your thighs. He pulled the skirt up, completely showcasing your thong and pantyhose. You practically heard him salivating behind you. You tried to close your legs feeling painfully embarrassed.

“Tsk. What did I say Y/N” he forced your legs apart once again but with more aggression and speed, that lead you to buckle your hips onto him. You instantly became flushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the realization of what you just did. You heard him groan.

“Such a fucking tease.” He ripped your pantyhose apart, giving him full entrance to your underwear. The cold air had a cooling sensation on your inner thighs and you felt yourself softy throb. You let out a silent whine and he quickly shoved two of his fingers in your mouth while the other started doing soft circles on your clit.

“Fuck quirkless. You’re so wet, always knew you were a fucking whore for me.”

Even to your surprise you didn’t expect yourself to be this hot and ready for him. You felt completely betrayed by your body but you couldn’t help in relishing in the sensation. It felt so good to finally be touched by someone even if it was someone as vile as him. Is this what it feels like to have the most dangerous man about finger fuck you on the metro train? Maybe you can just pretend you’re getting touched by Jim- the cute and quirky coworker of yours, but with every flick even that was seeming to be difficult already. You were sucking and licking his fingers shamelessly and subconsciously grinding down on his erection. You were definitely disgusted from yourself. But you’d be lying if the thought of fucking this villain hasn’t crossed your mind. Especially with the constant harassment you faced whenever you crossed paths, how he’d violate you but never to this extent. Always leaving you in an array of emotions. Even now you’re having a hard time understanding what exactly is happening.

Your eyes snapped right open when the fingers in your mouth left to slap your pussy. You glared at him with a concerning look. He only smiled in response, the sadistic kind.

“You seemed distracted baby. Got me doing all this work and you’re not even paying attention.”

His wet fingers hooked your underwear and causally pulled them off. You were now completely exposed and the reality of the situation was settling on you. “Bakugo please don’t.”

“After you were sucking and grinding on me? Don’t act so innocent now bitch, you’re fucking soaked. Pussy is practically begging for my cock.”

He slipped one finger inside slowly, as if he was exploring the inside of your pussy. His fingers were thick and scarred due to years of using his quirk. The sensation alone was enough for you to throw your head back on his shoulder, opening your legs wider for him. You couldn’t grasp the reason for your actions. Here you were shamelessly opening yourself up and enjoying the fingers of a villain who has caused so much destruction and brought about so much pain in your life. How is it that you’re enjoying this? You really are a terrible person.

“Fuck baby, this is quite the sight.”

Any attempt in trying to hide what you and Bakugo were doing was completely thrown out the window by the sloppy and lewd noises from the villain fingering you. You began to bite your bottom lip in attempt to hold back the moans trying to escape you when he added a second finger.

“Don’t hold them noises back, let these people know how good you feel from just by my fingers slut.” By this point you couldn’t control the soft noises coming out of you even though you were trying. He was fingering you with such expertise, you were feeling yourself beginning to melt under him. When was the last time someone had touched you liked this? Are you so touch starved that you’re about to cum from out of all people- Bakugou Katisuki? Your mind was spinning.

The train reached its second stop. You tried to close your legs and compose yourself before the doors had open but Bakugo didn’t stop his assault. “Bakug-“

“Keep them open baby. We’ll put on a show for whoever sees. I don’t give a fuck.”

The only two passengers who were on the train walked out rather quickly and with no one else entering, it was just you and this villain inside. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or bad but at least the risk of him hurting someone else isn’t looming over your head. Instead of taking this moment to escape you threw your arms up gripping Bakugo by the neck. Might as well and try to get this over with. Sooner this ends, the sooner you get go home and bleach your skin clean and pray for forgiveness to whichever god decides to listen. This action did indeed catch him slightly by surprise but he stopped fingering you momentarily and ripped your shirt off revealing your bra to him. He quickly gripped both of your breasts massaging them in his hand.

“Turn around.” He huskily said into your ear. Already lost in the sensation of how good he was making you feel, you quickly got off him to then get back on straggling him. You were now back on him facing him with your cunt completely exposed, skirt crumbled up to your waist, and your breasts directly in his face. He was smirking down on you. He gripped the center of your bra and activated his quirk leaving the bra in shreds.

“Any idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck this pretty little body of yours?” He gripped your neck, choking you slightly while his mouth made his way to your nipple. “Way too fucking long. Gonna devour your little cunt. Gonna make you pay for all the trouble you’ve been causing me.” His hand left your throat and began squeezing and pinching your nipple. The action causing a moan to rip out of you. “Fucking bitch, you’ve been such a distraction.” You were gripping and pulling his hair now while grinding furiously against his crouch in a desperate attempt to feel some type of friction. “Bakugo-“

“Katsuki,” he corrected, “we’ve been past the formalities for a while now”

You blushed, you rarely call anyone by their first name but Bakugo could be the exception. Besides it’s not like he wasn’t fingering your pussy like a jackhammer on a public train 5 minutes ago, not like you were grinding on him like a desperate dog in heat right now...

“Suki,” you said hoping the cute pet name would be enough to grab his attention, you attempted to sound as desperate and needy as possible, “please make me cum already.” You pleaded while placing your hands on his shoulders. Makeup smudged from the tears and sweat, lipstick smeared on your chin from him covering it, clothes all ruined and your hair a mess, you already looked so fucked out, Bakugo just ate the sight up. He had his hands gripping the side of your hips caressing them. You leaned in wanting a kiss until he quickly gripped your face squeezing your cheeks together preventing it so. “On your knees baby.”

While still squeezing your face you slowly get off his lap on your knees in between his legs.

“Open your mouth and show me your tongue.” He released his tight grip but kept his hand in place, you opened your mouth and slowly stuck out your tongue. He gave a devious smirk, in which you saw something enlighten in his eyes. The bright red color seeming more mahogany now. He leans in lining his mouth above yours and spits on your tongue. He nods his head allowing you to swallow, which you complied easily to. You now waited patiently for his next orders, your full submissive side completely taking over, not like you have much of a choice anyways. Regardless, the desire to please him and the desperation from under is consuming your every thought and sensation.

“Go on slut, suck daddy’s cock.” He leans into the seat with his legs fully spread to you. You slowly unzip his pants with shaking hands allowing his dick to spring free. You nearly drooled at the sight wanting to taste him badly. He was completely erect, a huge vain running down the base of his cock, the tip already covered in precum looking swollen and red. You lean in his dick using your hands to pump him, you slowly bought the tip towards your mouth giving it small kitten like licks. As you began sucking the villain in front of you, he lets out small grunts and groans throughout. He eventually pulls your hair and shoves his dick entirely in your mouth forcing itself to hit the back of your throat. 10 seconds pass by and he hasn’t removed his hand, 11, 12… your eyes begin watering and you’re desperately attempting to get fresh air. You begin pulling away only for Katsuki to laugh and hold you down tighter. “Aha’ha choking on my dick detective? Such a cock hungry whore… this outa teach you a lesson, maybe I’ll get some hand cuffs late-later on and treat you like you really deserve, yea-yeah. That sounds soo good.”

While Bakugo goes back and forth with himself, you begin getting red faced and losing consciousness he pulls your hair up forcing you off and you while you take this opportunity to weed in gaps of air desperately and choking, he quickly shoves himself back inside your mouth. This time he moved your head in up/down motions, you attempted your best to slurp and suck with minimal oxygen entering your system, but it was proven to be very difficult, luckily enough you notice the villain becoming slower and sloppier with his movements. You brought yourself to deep throat his cock once more until the warm liquid has finally entered your mouth. The taste sour and sticky inside, this is what sin must taste like you thought.

As on cue, the metro did a halt and you instantly recognized the location. You gave a side eye to the villain next to you who also knew this was the stop to your neighborhood. He self confidently got up and immediately zipped his pants. He took off the hoodie he wore only leaving the black tank top underneath and shoved it over your head. The hoodie was long enough to cover your whole body and you were thankful since your current garments were in shreds across the floor. It also smelled strangely sweet, odd, like burnt caramel? Maybe the lack of oxygen is making you slightly delusional? You assumed, well hoped- this is where you would go separate ways with the villain. Have this memory go to the grave with you and forget it ever happened. But to your lovely surprise he picks you up bridal style and carries you out the metro. You looked at him questioningly, the feeling of dread looming over and suddenly becoming overwhelming just waiting for his response. He simply smirked.

“You’re clocking in overtime tonight detective.”

#mha smut #bakugou x reader smut #yandere katsuki #bakugo x reader smut #bnha imagines #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #villain bakugou #dark theme #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #alpha katsuki #mha fanfiction

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ashtheshortstack · 2 years

Text

beautiful disaster - ch 3

Rating: M

Ship: Kyoru

Chapter 3/5: “I don’t mind.”

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Learning intimacy, Virgin Dorks, Post-Curse, Manga/Anime Spoilers

ao3

It’d been a week since he and Tohru’s last… Well, whatever that was. It didn’t feel like… sex. Not that he didn’t want to have sex with Tohru. God, he did. But he wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. Was he ready for that? Whatever they were doing it was… It was intimacy, he guessed. The stolen glances and blushes they’d shared since those little escapades made his heart stutter in his chest.

Kyo wasn’t sure if Shigure knew exactly what was occurring…He was barely at the house these days, instead being at the main house with Akito. (Because leaving teenagers at home alone in a newly formed relationship was a great idea.) But Kyo was almost positive that Yuki knew. From the way that damn rat would clear his throat when Tohru gazed up at Kyo with those big, brown eyes like he hung the moon, Kyo could only assume the worst. He knew Yuki and Tohru had a different relationship. Yuki loved her, but not in the way Kyo did.

As if Yuki had the right to judge him! Kyo damn well knew that the bastard had already gotten laid before him. Pretty sure Yuki’s girlfriend was just as touch-starved as him.

(...As if Kyo wasn’t touch-starved as well…but that wasn’t relevant. Nope.)

There were times that Kyo was absolutely certain that Yuki was intentionally cock blocking him. Any moment Kyo got Tohru alone in her room or his, there was that damn rat knocking on the door. Asking some bullshit questions like if Tohru needed tutoring or if they just wanted takeout for the night. Ugh.

Despite that, Kyo still enjoyed every second he got to spend with the love of his life. She was like a puppy that followed him around every chance she got. At school, he’d usually hear the patter of her shoes running towards him before she even called his name. Holding her was… nice. It wasn’t something he was used to given the curse. He didn’t open his arms to give hugs or have a first instinct of wrapping his arms around her. But Tohru did. There were times she’d purposely sneak up behind and wrap her arms around his waist, face nuzzling into his back. The touch would send heat pooling inside him.

God, he wanted her. Wanted her so badly. In every sense of the word. But he was hesitant. Clearly, it was hard to have a moment alone recently. He didn’t want to force her into anything. Nor force himself. Kyo wanted to be ready for whatever the next step was. Besides, if her weirdo friends caught wind that he didn’t pleasure her properly, they’d probably skin him alive. Which he wasn’t really on board with.

Kyo had decided blowing off steam was the best course of action and figured helping his father teach a class at the dojo was a great way to do just that. When Tohru had insisted upon watching him, he wanted to argue. The thought of her sitting there watching him was kinda embarrassing… but he couldn’t say “no” after she had pleaded in such a soft tone.

Once the dojo was empty and Kazuma had wished them a good evening to go have dinner, he and Tohru were left alone in the room. Kyo felt chuckles bubble out of his chest as Tohru babbled praises about his teaching.

She sat on her knees, punching the air with horrible form as she attempted to mimic his efforts. “The movements were so quick! Like this and that!”

Kyo snorted and took a seat next to her, lifting a knee and resting his arm on it. “Maybe, you should leave the martial arts to me.”

“Yeah…” she laughed softly. “I’m probably not any good.”

Cocking a brow, he gave her a gentle smile. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Right! But not everyone can be as talented as Kyo,” she replied with a shrug.

“Now, you’re just trying to flatter me,” he scoffed.

Tohru smiled and scooted closer to him, putting her hand over his own that sat on the wooden floor. Her shoulder bumped his before he spoke again.

“Uh, I’m pretty sweaty so I might not–uh–smell the best.”

Humming, she gazed up at him. “I don’t mind.”

Kyo loved being with her like this. He loved that they could just talk . About anything and everything. But he also loved that all silence with her was comfortable. They took comfort in just being in contact with one another. Maybe, Tohru was a little touch-starved herself since her mother passed. He loved holding her hand, leaning on one another, gentle kisses to her head or cheek. She never stopped him… in fact her cheeks would just flush and she’d smile which made his heart flutter every time.

It took him a moment to realize… they were alone. Completely alone.

Maybe, Tohru had the same realization around the same moment. Her cheeks were rosy when she gazed up at him with pure adoration. Kyo immediately repositioned himself to hover over her and cupped her cheek, thumb running along her skin as he nearly closed the distance between them. He wanted to make sure she was okay with this. Kissing in a new environment, somewhere a little more risky than one of their bedrooms.

“Kyo…” she breathed.

That was all he needed to press his lips against her own. This kiss was chaste at first, as per usual for the two of them. But the kiss escalated quickly. Kyo slanted his lips against hers, his fingers threading into hair as her hands came up to caress his cheeks.

They’d never done this… Never acted in the heat of the moment. It was exciting and nerve-wracking all at once. But all Kyo felt was intense burning inside of him. A desire for her consumed him from the inside out. His free hand grabbed her waist, tugging her impossibly closer until she was on her knees in his lap. Heated making out while she straddled his waist was new too… but he wasn’t gonna complain at all. Detaching from her waist, he leaned weight back on his hand. Tohru leaned into him further, seeming to enjoy this new position of power over him. He’d let her do anything she wanted.

Kyo could feel the straining in his pants and idly wondered if Tohru could too. She’d already touched him before, felt this before. Surely, she knew what she was doing to him. Was she affected the same way?

He soon got his answer when she pressed against him. He could feel her warmth through her panties… Fuck… Thank God for skirts. Kyo did his best to encourage her, lifting his hips to meet hers. When she gasped against his mouth, it only egged on his actions.

“Kyo… Can I…?”

“Yeah, whatever it is. Yes.”

Well, Tohru grinding on him wasn’t exactly what he thought he was agreeing to, but when her hips rolled against him, he decided he was totally fine with it. Kyo detached from her to catch his breath, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her neck. She whimpered. His hand on her waist slowly traveled upwards, boldly cupping one of her breasts through her uniform. Fuck, he just wanted to touch her.

Tohru pressed core against him a little rougher in response, making him sigh at the jolt of pleasure that washed through him. Kyo didn’t know how he’d gotten so close so quickly. Maybe from being so pent up from Yuki’s constant interference. Shit, his whole being was on fire, filled with thoughts of Tohru. Just her. Just Tohru. But he couldn’t just cream his pants without getting her off. That just wouldn’t do.

He sat up quickly, planting his hands firmly on her ass, shocking Tohru with a yelp. Kyo grinded upward, making her release a pretty moan that took his breath away. He guided her hips, encouraging her movements to become more erratic. The small huffs and whines that bubbled past her lips told him she was getting closer and closer. Her lips were on his again when he felt her shudder against him. Her hips slowed, the friction lessening but it was enough for Kyo to join her in bliss.

“Fuck, I love you,” he signed.

Tohru pressed her forehead to his, panting in a failed attempt to catch her breath. “I love you, too.”

Holy shit, they just did that.

They just dry humped on the dojo floor.

And Kyo didn’t regret a single second of it…

Well, except maybe the mess in his pants but whatever.

#kyoru #kyo x tohru #kyoru fanfic #kyoru fic #kyoru smut #fruits basket #fruits basket fic #fruits basket trash #kitty rice ball #ash writes #beautiful disaster

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #tma #post canon #THIS IS JUST ME PROJECTING ON MARTIN FOR 1500 WORDS LMAO #also to anyone that spots the song lyric: :3 #also also the leopard geckos names are kirk spock and bones #or as jon calls them #captain first officer and CMO

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midnight-in-town · 3 years

Text

Why Jane is a demon

Back to Mey & Ran’s investigation we go: since I have some time, I want to do a recap post on why I think Jane is a demon and is also possibly John Brown, Victoria’s aide.

This sums up different posts that I previously wrote on Jane and on John being supernatural [x][x] and also possibly the main attacker behind the massacre at the Phantomhive manor, 4 years ago.

Premise

First of all, to replace the context: Heathfield was “looking to replace his wife” who died in a carriage accident along with their daughter.

Whether or not we think this was just a big lie, so that he could appeal to young women with a lower social standing in order to have intercourse with them (while UT maybe promised to eventually revive his wife or something), it’s clear that Abby and at least another servant used to be a part of the Aurora Society and were the ones driving this whole blood collect operation.

Meanwhile Jane was hired as a security guard...

...which means that she’s unrelated to the Aurora society.

Notion of a job contract between Heathfield’s household and Jane

That’s the simplest clue: many readers noticed the way Jane talked whenever she referred to her job in the manor:

At some point, she also said that she would never do more on a job than what was directly asked of her (it was mistranslated in English so I won’t add the panel) and this all sounds very typical of demons speaking about their contract.

In other words, Jane stuck to her contract like glue, up until the operation was dismantled by Ciel’s allies. We’ll get back later to why a demon would give up when she could have easily defeated at least Mey.

Jane’s behavior towards Baron Heathfield

Also something many readers noticed, as in, Jane lacked a lot of deference towards “her master”.

This could be explained by the fact that she, as a demon, has no respect for him as a human (remember, Seb sees humans as grasshoppers & their soul as food). Besides, it’s very hard to be the master of a demon: our!Ciel does a rather good job, considering the wild and mocking beast that is Seb.

So it’s not hard to think that Heathfield didn’t have it in him to correct & control Jane’s behavior towards him (if he even cared to do so in the first place).

Parallels to S1 of the anime

As much as I kinda dislike admitting it (since I’m no fan of the anime), this arc was rather reminiscent of the one with Angela Blanc and Henry Barrymore. As we know, Angela eventually turned out to be a fallen angel and also Ash Landers, the Queen’s aide.

So, while I’m really not sure angels are meant to appear in the manga, Jane being supernatural and having a “male counterpart” (named John) that we already met would be in tune as a parallel. Which leads me to the second part of the post.

Jane = John?

As I linked to above, it is my belief that John Brown was hinted to be supernatural and even possibly a demon (instead of, like, a Shinigami or Angel).

So, if John is indeed a demon, then it is likely to think that his master and holder of the contract is Queen Victoria and, in that case, one can wonder what was the point of “Jane” entering a contract with Baron Heathfield.

Too many demons can spoil the soup

Unlike Shinigamis who are introduced in almost every arc (we get it, Yana), I’m personally against the possibility that Jane could be a third demon (assuming John is indeed one), because that’d mean introducing a pretty powerful character with literally no agency after Mey & Ran’s investigation, when we are far into the story and the plot is complex enough as it is.

Yeah, storytelling-wise, it doesn’t sound like a good idea.

Besides, if Jane is a demon who only was in a contract with Heathfield, then...

...one can wonder what he even paid to have her summoned. That’s why this explanation makes not much sense, I find, considering the household seemed to have no idea at all about Jane being possibly supernatural.

Whereas if we’re considering that Jane already was in a contract with someone else, then it gives her a lot of agency + it means that meeting Heathfield and entering a very secondary contract with him would not have needed fare for the crossing (making the process even more simple).

Why the presence of a demon at Heathfield’s manor

If we’re considering that John = Jane, then Jane would have been gathering intel on the blue sect’s operations for her real master: Queen Victoria.

After all, remember that discussion between Victoria and Brown at the end of the Weston arc?

Victoria clearly was interested in UT’s bizarre dolls (because she wants Albert back? Because they’re great war weapons?), so if she’s slightly aware of what’s been going on since ch140 and the real!Ciel’s return, then it’d make sense that she’d send her precious aide to gather info for her.

And what Jane discovered is that the Bizarre Dolls need blood (amongst edited records and episodes) to function properly and long enough.

As for that possible secondary contract that she made with Heathfield: we don’t know what it was about (maybe getting to eat the dead maids’ soul?), but it doesn’t nullify the contract with Victoria, seeing as Seb confirmed multiple contracts are possible.

Why Jane didn’t try to fight for long against Mey and Ran

If she’s a demon, then she theoretically had the strength to escape Mey’s gun and win, but there is a main explanation as to why she gave up: she didn’t want to be found out as a supernatural being.

After all she was facing Ran & Mey and:

Ran showed that she was indeed strong as hell, which makes it interesting to ponder if she’s also a supernatural being or a strength-enhanced human (like Finny)

Mey is Ciel’s staff (and if Jane = John, it’s possible Jane would have known about that fact), so Jane proving to Mey that she was more than human would mean Ciel & Seb would get to hear about it and I’m pretty sure Jane/John wouldn’t want that.

Another additional possibility is that Jane had gathered enough info, as her original mission requested, and she had no reason to stay longer (except maybe to eat some more souls, as per her contract with Heathfield, who knows).

Ending word: what about the other investigations?

There is a lot at stake here and, as we know, UT definitely needs stopping.

So it’s interesting to think that we possibly saw the Queen’s side gathering info on the situation through Jane, while Ronald (definitely representing the Shinigamis’ Organization) just made his appearance during Bard & Lau’s investigation.

While Ronald’s arrival is definitely bad news (because it means people are going to die and for all we know Bard might be one of them), it makes one wonder who we’ll meet next if we get to read about Finny & Snake and Ciel & Seb: finally one of the remaining star lords? another government’s spy (France? Since UT went there some time ago)?

We’ll see!

Anyway, sorry for the long post, I hope it managed to convey my thoughts a little more clearly than my old posts. Don’t hesitate if you guys have any question!

#kuroshitsuji #jane #mey rin #john brown #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #ronald knox #queen victoria #ranmao #kuroshitsuji theory #kuro169 #kuro171 #my analysis

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

A Wild Valentine Appears!

Ririka Momobami x She/Her Reader (Feat. some KiraSaya!)

A/N: I now realize why it takes me months to finish writing things. I wrote this oneshot in a day and although I have read it over several times already, I still feel like it’s incoherent. I’ll still happily post it though because if I only posted things I was completely satisfied with, I’d post nothing lol. Anyway, just wanted to give a little love to Ririka because she deserves it. Hope you’ll like it! Word Count: 2,425

Ririka stared over the sea of students pushing and shoving to get into any of the more contested council member lines. God, she really hated Kirari sometimes.

Today was Valentine’s Day, and all Ririka wanted to do was go home, order a giant, cheesy pizza, and watch anime from the comfort of her own bed and forget this stupid holiday even existed. But no, her dear sister just had to be an insufferable nuisance. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?

Kirari had decided to inform the council that morning in an unplanned meeting, that in order to spare the mail room from total annihilation (and Sayaka’s back), each council member would have to accept their Valentines in person. She had even set up the gymnasium for the occasion. Not herself of course, she made the house pets do it, but you get the idea.

“But president, I already have an idol greeting in place!” Yumemi smiled, though her eye twitched, “I’m too busy to deal with people outside of my fan club who need I remind you, actually pay me for my time.”

“It is a waste of time,” Kaede pushed his glasses up, “A pointless holiday.”

“Well I think it’s a great idea president!” Itsuki proclaimed, leveling a glare at Kaede.

“Free sweets so I’ll happily comply!” Runa grinned.

“Sayaka,” Yumemi called, exasperation seeping out of the cracks in her cheery idol facade, “Surely you don’t want to watch people confessing to the president all afternoon?”

Sayaka’s hands, hidden behind her back, clenched tightly in agreement, yet her polite smile stayed solid. “The president’s will is my will.” She replied, her eyes dark and focused.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Sayaka will be busy enough dealing with her own little pack of girls! Crazy to believe I know, but she’s actually pretty popular!” Midari sensed the air around the president change and cackled. “I’m cool with it, prez. I’m sure Yuriko’s ego would love all the attention too!” She offered on behalf of the absent council member. Yuriko had some important business with the Traditional Culture Club to take care of before the impromptu meeting was called.

“Majority rules.” Kirari smiled, passing a glance over to Ririka who was silently stewing.

So that’s how Ririka ended up standing in the furthest corner of the gym, watching all her fellow council members’ lines fill up while hers remained painfully desolate. She had never been more thankful for her mask than she was today. However, it was probably because of the mask and her eerie silence that people were afraid to approach her in the first place.

Ririka found entertainment watching Kirari and Sayaka at least. Though those two usually drove her absolutely bonkers, it was kind of funny to watch them take turns discreetly eyeing their ‘competition’ for the other’s affections. It was enough to make Ririka want to scream over the school’s intercom system that they needed to just kiss already and stop wasting everyone’s time, but still funny to see her sister making a mental list of every person who dared get too comfortable with her secretary. Ririka rolled her eyes as she was sure Sayaka was doing the same to the patrons in Kirari’s line. Her sister’s line was much larger than Sayaka’s own, but Ririka knew better than to think Sayaka couldn’t keep up.

“Um, excuse me, vice president?”

Ririka startled, but years of schooling her emotions and physical reactions hid her scare well. She looked away from her sister to stare at the disturbance head on. Ririka was surprised to find a face she recognized. (L/n) (Y/n), she sat next to Ririka’s left in class since their first year of high school. What could she possibly want?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t disrupt your train of thought did I? Here, let me just give you this quick and I’ll be out of your hair,” (Y/n) laughed nervously, her hand rummaging through the school bag over her shoulder, “I knew I should have packed better, sorry, just a second... There!” (Y/n)’s hand finally re-emerged with a rectangular box, striped with red, pink, and white. She held the box out to Ririka with a barely detectable tremor, “I made these chocolates for you. I hope you like them!”

Ririka tilted her head, mouth agape. Was this actually happening right now? Someone was giving her Valentines chocolate? And they were cute and nice? What the hell?

“Oh no, you hate it! I’m so sorry!” (Y/n) looked every bit as horrified as Ririka felt for just standing there and staring like an idiot instead of accepting the chocolates.

Ririka immediately waved her arms and shook her head, swiping the chocolates from her classmate’s hands and pressing the box into her chest protectively. Looking between (Y/n) and the chocolates Ririka knew she had to do something to show her gratitude so, she awkwardly flashed (Y/n) a shaky thumbs up. If Ririka could blush through her mask she was sure it would be bright pink.

“Thank you, vice president! I hope you like them, I worked hard on these- but! But don’t feel obligated or anything!” (Y/n) quickly added.

Ririka looked down at the pretty box in her hands a popped the lid open, a little gasp escaped her lips and came through her voice modulator like a crackle of static. The chocolates were shaped like cats!

“I hope you don’t mind, I noticed you doodle a lot during class and I think you make the cutest little kittens so that’s why I shaped the chocolate like that. I made the mold too, it took a couple tries, but the end result was worth it I think.”

Ririka hadn’t realized (Y/n) had paid attention to her at all, much less that she would be interested in her enough to know what she did during class, or remember and care enough to then turn such observations into an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gift. There was no way she was going to be able to keep her eyes off of (Y/n) during class now... not that she had ever stared longingly at her before! Or chickened out of buying chocolates to put in her classmate’s shoe cubby that morning, not at all! But damnit Ririka really wished she hadn’t been such a coward now!

“I’m glad this worked out. I had been planning to just send them through the mail system like I have in previous years, but then I heard that the student council was only accepting gifts in person this year and I kind of lost my nerve,” (Y/n) rambled on, waving her hands around as she talked.

Ririka couldn’t believe it. (Y/n) had sent her chocolates before? She had never gotten them. They had probably been lost in her sister’s vast piles of confectionary wealth, damn her sister!

“You are always so distant with everyone. I was afraid I was just going to be bothering you, but seeing you standing here all alone... I knew I had to just go for it and put my feelings out there, you know? Ah, I’m talking too much. I should really—“

“The president did not consent to be touched!”

(Y/n) and Ririka whipped their heads around just in time to see Sayaka flip a student twice her size to the ground, tasing him for good measure. Kirari stood by with an amused smirk, her hands rubbing sanitizer into her skin as she watched her secretary obliterate the boy.

The girls who were still waiting in Sayaka’s line started cheering and swooning which quickly made the president’s mood sour and she turned to the girls, offering them an icy stare that shook them all to the bone.

“I’ve grown quite bored of this. Would any of you care for a high stakes gamble? I’m sure we all have something of value to offer.” Kirari spoke, reaching her hand out towards the group.

The girls dropped their gifts and ran away screaming, none dared to accept the president’s wager. Especially not while she looked so menacing albeit elegant, as if she drank human blood and tears from a wine glass while sitting regally upon a throne constructed from the bones of her enemies.

Once the boy on the ground was disturbingly still, Sayaka stood and brushed off her skirt, her dark, calculating eyes scanned over the rest of the line. She zapped her taser twice in warning causing the remaining students to scatter and flee the scene.

“Oh my, Sayaka. Did you need to be so harsh?” Kirari teased, as if she hadn’t just subtly threatened a handful of high schoolers herself. She’d be lying is she said she hadn’t enjoyed the momentary chaos she had created.

“School hours are nearly over president. I was simply killing two birds with one stone.” Sayaka informed, still looking a bit miffed.

“Ah, so they are. Well then, far be it from me to hamper anyone’s holiday plans.” Kirari looked around at the remaining students and made a shooing motion with her hands, clearly bored, “Leave.” The students knew better than to complain, not directly in front of the president at least. (Y/n) moved to follow the crowd but Ririka grasped her by the bicep, keeping (Y/n) glued to her spot. Ririka was not going to let her slip away, not without returning the favor. Once the students were pushing out of the gymnasium doors, Kirari turned back to Sayaka, her eyes glimmering. “Sayaka, accompany me to the student council room. I would love a hot cup of tea. You always prepare it so well.”

“Yes, president!” Sayaka nodded, falling in step behind Kirari as she took a different exit.

“That was, something.” (Y/n) laughed, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, “I better get lost now before I overstay my welcome. Um, thank you again, vice president.” (Y/n) moved to pull away but Ririka held on tighter, making her classmate’s skin grow warmer. “Vice president?”

Ririka looked around at who was left loitering in the gymnasium and rolled her eyes. She may not have gotten chocolates for (Y/n), but she was surely going to make up for it before the day was over. Ririka just needed to get away from all these people first. She tugged (Y/n) along to the gym storage room and blushed as Runa laughed and pointed at her. She pulled (Y/n) inside the storage room and closed the door behind them.

“(L/n),” Ririka’s distorted voice crackled to life behind her mask, causing (Y/n) to jump. (Y/n) had never heard her speak before. “Do you like anime?”

“I- yeah I like anime?” (Y/n) blinked, she clearly had no idea where this could possibly be going.

“Do you like pizza?” Ririka persisted, the modulator making her sound much more severe rather than excited.

“Sure, I like pizza vice president.” (Y/n) answered taking a cautious step back as Ririka stepped forward, effectively cornering herself.

“Would you...” Ririka’s hand quivered as she lifted it to her face, (Y/n) tracked the movement, a look of bewildered wariness upon her face as she waited with bated breath for whatever was to come next. Ririka pulled the mask off her face, blushing as (Y/n) grew more shocked, awed, and confused. “Would you like to come to my house to watch anime and eat dinner?!” Ririka squeaked, her face growing hotter after every word that left her mouth.

“But— how? You... we were.. and you were, and then you?” (Y/n) babbled looking between Ririka and the door, weakly pointing between the two. Ririka starred at (Y/n) oddly then smacked her hand over her eyes and laughed feebly at the misunderstanding.

“I’m not Kirari. We’re twins. I’m Momobami Ririka.”

“Twins? Oh,” (Y/n) suddenly looked very relieved, “I thought for sure Igarashi was going to pop out and strangle me with a jump rope or something. Twins, wow! How have I never guessed?”

“Do not tell anyone!” Ririka warned. “No one is supposed to know yet!”

“I won’t tell!” (Y/n) raised her hand and made a gesture of zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me, vice president!”

“Well, good.” Ririka replied awkwardly. “So do you want to...?”

“Oh, yeah!” (Y/n) cleared her throat, “Yes, that sounds like fun, thank you for inviting me.”

Ririka smiled, “Excellent.” She fitted her mask back over her face and led (Y/n) out of the storage room by the hand. “Come with me.” the distorted voice commanded.

Ririka dragged (Y/n) down the hall and the feeling was near euphoric. The grin taking over her face was fighting to be as wide as the one covering her mask when (Y/n)’s hand grasped hers just as tightly.

***

“That’s odd...” Sayaka murmured staring down into the courtyard from the student council window.

“What’s odd, Sayaka?” Kirari asked, tone light and playful as she hugged her secretary from behind, resting her chin on Sayaka’s shoulder.

“President!” Sayaka blushed, wiggling in Kirari’s hold. “I just, I didn’t realize the vice president had a girlfriend is all.” Sayaka explained, pointing to the two girls jogging up to an expensive, black car.

“Oh?” Kirari was just as bemused as she was confused, not that she would allow her face to show it. Watching her sister usher a girl she recognized as a classmate of theirs into the back of the car before Ririka followed in after her and closed the door. Soon after, the car pulled away from the curve. “How interesting.” She would have to confront Ririka about this at a later date, but for now she had a secretary to shower with affections. “Sayaka, this chocolate is delectable. Would you like a taste?”

“I think I would. Thank you, president.”

Kirari smirked, removing one of her arms from around Sayaka to pluck another chocolate from the box while Sayaka turned to face her. Sayaka naively held out her hand, then spluttered when Kirari placed the chocolate on her own tongue and pulled Sayaka closer.

***

“Oh! I remember this episode, it’s so good Ririka, you are going to love it!” (Y/n) was practically vibrating in her spot on the couch.

“Really? I’m looking forward to it.” Ririka smiled between bites of pizza.

Hopefully they could make a habit of this. Who knows, maybe she and (Y/n) would actually pass up Kirari and Sayaka in terms of pursuing a romantic relationship at a reasonable pace. Ririka cautiously leaned her shoulder against (Y/n)’s and she received a kind smile that enveloped her more warmly than the snug blanket over her lap.

Best Valentine’s Day ever.

#kakegurui oneshots #kakegurui x reader #Ririka momobami #ririka x reader #ririka momobami x reader

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ajaxwrites · 3 years

Text

GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao.

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line:

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit.

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically.

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS?

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not – we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic rec #rec list #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #tartali #chili #diluc./kaeya #luckae #fanfiction #took a while but i have been steadily reading my way through the fandom #still not all my recs #but you can check my ao3 for what i'm reading lmao

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berrynarrybanana · 3 years

Text

Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you!

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here!

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas.

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty.

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door.

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten.

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin.

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground.

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl.

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.”

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.”

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry.

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella.

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again.

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head.

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted.

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies.

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it.

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.”

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug.

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough.

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug.

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here.

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard.

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep.

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched.

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame.

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes.

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue.

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips.

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears.

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut.

He was totally fucked for this girl.

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs.

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand.

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew.

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?”

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.”

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked.

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-”

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen.

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was.

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings.

He had a crush on Stella.

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her.

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them.

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them.

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing.

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said.

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?”

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked.

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.”

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly.

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.”

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips.

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella.

Stay here with me forever.

Love me.

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind.

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well.

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit.

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!”

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!”

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?”

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back.

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time.

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.”

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.”

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.”

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching.

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter.

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s.

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!”

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest.

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.”

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.”

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted.

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s.

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.”

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks.

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago.

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off.

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door.

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile.

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest.

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands.

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode.

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo.

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?”

“Gemma-”

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering.

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry.

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#not edited #as per usual #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry fic #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry styles X ofc #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry styles christmas blurb

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knchins · 3 years

Text

Hunger - Todoroki S.

Summary: Todoroki Shouto doesn’t want to follow the footsteps of his father. On the brink of starvation, he hears the call of a witch who finds a way to fulfill both of their needs.

Pairing: Incubus!Shouto x Witch!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sm*t, v*ginal fingering, v*ginal s*x, oral s*x, c*nnilingus, choking, some mentions of (consensual) breeding, soft!dom Shouto, some begging ig, some mentions of sugar daddy/baby, Shouto is several centuries old and is of age, oh and some fluff

Notes: This was my very first request I think??? I got it months ago lol so idk if this person if even still following me RIP. But I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope they enjoy it wherever they are <3 I did deviate a little bit but not TOO much.Censored words is so I can show up in the gd tags.

Dealing with demons had become sort of a pastime for her, the young witch living in the secluded wood out in the countryside. She greatly enjoyed the remoteness, though sometimes it did come to a great disadvantage. Travelers would come, asking for potions or spell-work, something to help them with their troubles in life. As a grey witch (one who practiced both white and black magic), she tended to be able to help just about anyone with anything. Of course there were a few lines she wouldn’t cross such as raising the dead or directly causing death. She did have some morals after all, albeit somewhat controversial ones.

Whenever she needed an item that she simply had no access to, then she would call upon demons to aid her in her work. The first couple times she had been a little reluctant and she would be lying if she didn’t say she had a few close calls, but ultimately demons could be bartered with just as humans could. The lower leveled ones were rarely smart enough to outwit her or ask for something she just couldn’t give. So far, dealings were good and they only became better when she met him.

On the fourth or fifth time she called out for help, this time she needed a rare desert root for a drying spell, she followed the same procedure as always. She lit her candles, drew a summoning sigil on the floor, and chanted the words that would bring her the closest demonic being that felt the urge to heed her call. She specifically did it in a way that powerful demons would not be attracted. In fact, she would much prefer to keep them away for they were much smarter and more conniving, and ultimately not worth the risk. This time though...this time someone with a little more juice than what she normally found herself bargaining with appeared before her.

Todoroki Shouto was an incubus with the most prestigious lineage of any sex demon that resided in hell. His father was known by all demonic beings. He was number one in his class, The closest to king that anyone of them could truly be. He had also fathered more children than any other demon, enjoying ruining human women to the point that they could no longer be satisfied by mortal men. Shouto found it distasteful. The way Enji wold flux his hormones so that any woman within a few hundred feet would simply beg for him to fuck her, to breed her, to make her his. He had more half-siblings than he could count in addition to the three full-blooded ones. His mother had also been a high class demon with a pedigree, though her whereabouts were currently unknown.

He was minding his own business, taking a nice walk through the woods in the mortal realm when he heard the call. There was a tugging sensation on his chest and a melodic voice ringing in his ears. It was not a call for someone like him. Someone capable of such true power. Yet, something drew him in. Something about that voice had his interest piqued. He couldn’t resist answering her quickly, less some other demon came to her first.

He appeared before her, hair split down the middle perfectly. One half red like his father’s, the other white as his mother’s. One dark grey eye and another a brilliant blue, his white button-down shirt loose fitting with a few top buttons undone to show off his chest. If he wanted to lure in the opposite sex then he could with ease, but Todorki Shouto had a secret. One that made him much less powerful than he could be.

The witch was taken aback by the demon in front of her. He was certainly the most handsome she had ever seen, most lower level ones were not very pleasing to look at. It made them easier to deal with. Her curious eyes blinked as if to make sure he was really there. Immediately she could sense that something was off about him. Something wasn’t quite right, however she could not pinpoint what it was.

Shouto regretted answering the call immediately. The witch he had been summoned by was possibly the most beautiful creature he’d ever set eyes on. She was pure beauty and grace, more stunning than anyone residing in hell or earth. In fact, part of him wondered if maybe she was an angel. However the various bottles of herbs and assorted animal parts quickly led him to believe that she was not divine. She was simply mortal and in need of help.

“Oh an incubus.” She said, still looking very bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “What a surprise. I’m not sure if you can help me or not. You’re a little out of my league.” The last part seemed like a joke but Shouto wasn’t entirely sure.

“Why did you call for me here?” He asked calmly, his face perfectly blank though his eyes were fixated on her.

“I’m in need of something for a spell.” She said honestly, “Sometimes I call upon demons to help me gather items I cannot easily get.”

“Is that not dangerous?” He asked, starting to look more intrigued than anything. “Do you not worry about your safety?”

The witch let out a nervous laugh, “Well, lower levels ones aren’t much of a problem for me. You’re a bit more than I’m used to. I’m surprised you even heard it honestly.”

Shouto knew immediately why he heard it. Because as it stood, his power level was that of some lower tier demon. He had only fed twice since coming of age. His hunger was almost maddening. It had been eating away at him for decades. But he would not be his father. He would not be a glutton for sex and breeding. He refused to follow in his very heavy footsteps.

“I was simply within range.” He said, though she knew that him happening to be close by to her didn’t really mean much. The spell was designed to not be heard by anyone over a certain power level. Could an incubus really be below that? “What do you need?”

“A root.” She replied, flipping through one of the many of her family’s grimoires. She found the page that had a drawn picture, name, and general description. “This one.”

“You’re doing a drying spell.” He said out loud by mistake. He knew because he had had this particular spell cast on him many times throughout the years, though recently it seemed to be working less and less. It was to dry up sexual desire. It was one of the few things that helped him get by so long without feeding. Without it he would have been driven insane by lust many decades ago.

The witch cocked her head at him curiously, “yes, I am. For a client. She’s tired of having children but her husband just won’t stay off of her. She’s hoping it’ll get him to stop.” She paused for a moment, “Can you get it?”

“Yes.” he replied dumbly, as if it were totally obvious.

“What is your price?” She asked then, realizing he didn’t catch the implied question.

Shouto thought for a moment, it was about time to recast the spell judging by the lecherous thoughts that were starting to cross his mind. “Can you perform another one?”

She looked perplexed for a moment before it dawned on her why he heard her incantation. He was starved. And he must have been for some time too. “I can but I think I can do something else for you that will be much more beneficial.”

“And what is that?” Shouto asked, wondering if perhaps there was another spell or potion out there that was more powerful and thus would be more effective.

“Just have sex with me.”

That was how it started. Any time the young witch needed something, she’d do a more specific summoning spell, one that only Shouto could hear. And every time he’d come, no matter what he was doing, to aid her. She would often jokingly call him her demonic sugar daddy because he provided everything for her for the low low price of coitus.

The first couple times had been a little awkward. Shouto’s abilities were almost dormant. He fumbled his way about her body which was quite embarrassing for a sex demon. However after a few practice rounds the two truly began to find what got the other off the most. And in half a dozen sessions Shouto was feeling power, but with power came hunger.

When he appeared before her hearth one night, without an invitation, the woman nearly threw an old vase full of nightshade at him in terror. She only put it down when she realized it wasn’t just any random intruder, but her newfound lover. She hadn’t needed anything in quite some time now. Hadn’t called on him because business had been rather slow and the jobs she did get, she didn’t need anything from him. Perhaps it was a little cruel of her to not call on him regardless, but she honestly did not know how much his appetite had grown. How it began to consume him until all he could think about was her, naked and writhing beneath him as he pounded into her. He craved her and only her. It was not something that ever really happened to Incubi. After all they could have anyone they wanted. But he didn’t want anyone else. He only had eyes for her.

“Shouto.” She breathed out, heart still racing as she set down the clay vase. “I wasn’t expecting you, did you need something?”

His eyes were fiery as he stepped towards her and she could smell the faint scent of hell on him. She wondered if maybe he had another argument with his father. He had told her a little about his family life during post-sex cuddles. It wasn’t much but she knew he hated the demon that sired him. He always seemed to be wound extra tight after coming straight from hell, and that was usually the reason.

“Go bend your ass over the bed.” He said, further unbuttoned the flowy shirt he typical wore. Her eyes grew wide, embarrassment heating her face as she took a small step away from him. It wasn’t really out of fear, just a simple reflex. He never really got demanding of her like this, maybe something was wrong.

But the warmth pooling between her legs told her that despite the interruption, despite having not planned this whatsoever, hearing him order her to get into the bedroom had her flooding with desire, and he could smell it.

Shouto didn’t really have to use his pheromones to seduce her. He was naturally attractive and had a body that looked as if it had been sculpted out of marble. No, he never used them before but he was definitely using them now and they had her weak in the knees as she trembled. She walked on shaky legs into her bedroom, keeping her thighs pressed together as she walked in an attempt to hide the wetness that was accumulating in her panties. It was pointless though. He could always tell.

He left his shirt in the living room and kicked off his boots on his way to the bedroom. He lost his pants at the entryway, watching as she leaned over the side of the bed and resting on her forearms. Her eyes large and doe-like at the rush of adrenaline. Sex with with a sex demon was always an unforgettable experience. It was easy to see how people went mad over it. The way he made her feel, the orgasms he gave her, none of it compared to any other lover she had ever had. Perhaps that was one reason why she had been so willing to listen to him just now. She knew he’d make her feel good, and who didn’t like to feel good?

Shouto padded over, dropping to his knees behind her as he pushed her skirt up over her ass so that the fabric could bunch at her waist. His nimble fingers hooked around the elastic of her panties and he slid them down with an odd amount of carefulness. He practically buried his nose into her sex, inhaling that sweet scent of arousal that had him feeling absolutely feral. His tongue came to prod at her clit, causing a small whimpering sound to come from her.

He dragged his tongue over every inch of her pussy, savoring it fully until she was a quivering mess with shaking knees that threatened to make her fall down. “Let me breed you.” He said between kitten licks. “You can have anything in return.”

They had been using protection until then. Sex demons were incredibly fertile and typically had no trouble creating offspring. But at the time when this started, Shouto didn’t want to sow his wild oats like his father had. This witch had him wanting to throw all of that to the wind. He just didn’t care. That drive to fuck without any sort of barrier was maddening.

Anything from a demon was a very big price tag, and Shouto had never tried to deceive her. He had never been anything other than honest. And despite all her teachers to never trust a demon, she found herself trusting him. Every time their bodies intertwined she fell more and more in love, no matter how much she had tried to resist. She had thought some distance would have helped ease her feelings, but apparently it had been hard on both of them.

“Y-yes,” She gasped out as he latched onto her clit to suck, “Ple-please, Shouto, fill me with your cum.” She was gripping the old quilt on her bed tightly to try and keep herself grounded, but the way he was eating her out, two lithe fingers now dipping into her dripping core made it impossible to even think straight. All she could think about was her simple need to have him inside of her.

He didn’t stop working his fingers or tongue until she hit her first peak, moaning out for him in a way that had him nearly cumming prematurely. The strain in his underwear was painful now as he throbbed with need. After one long lick along her slit he stood up, grabbing onto the globes of her ass for pretend support.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Little Witch.” He said as he pulled down his briefs and kicked them away as if they were the most offensive thing in the world to him. “You’re shaking like you want to say something. So say it.”

“I need you,” She said, somehow sounding out of breath despite not having done anything besides orgasm. “Shouto, I need you so much.” He wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping in slowly as he watched her continue to tremble. “Please fuck me!”

The amount of lust he was feeling for this one mortal woman was dizzying. No one had ever told him that one person could have this kind of effect on a demon. Neither his father nor his two older brothers. Was it that far fetched to think that something was happening to him that had never happened to them before? They all had a primal drive for sex but never towards one specific person. Shouto found that he desired no one else in any of the realms. He only wanted her.

He pushed it without any hesitation, feeling her tense suddenly at his thickness stretching her out. He watched with fascination as he disappeared inside of her cunt, the warm, wet feeling enveloping him like summer rain. “Fuck,” He couldn’t stop himself from cursing and just how amazing it felt to be inside her. It was like taking that first breath of fresh air after being held underwater for an extended period of time. It was so damn freeing.

The witch relaxed against the mattress, her eyes closed to focus on that beautiful feeling of him completing her with his cock. Shouto took hold of her hips to keep her upright and steady as he pulled out slowly before bottoming out all over again, her slick making for the best lubricant as he moved with ease.

It started slow. Shouto wanted to revel in the heat. He wanted to drink in the feeling of her walls clamping down around him. The sound of her tiny whimpers when he pushed all the way in after pulling out. But this was much too slow for her, she couldn’t handle such a torturous rhythm. Shouto had eternity but his little mortal did not. Her time was limited and the thought of that made his heart suddenly ache.

“F-Faster,” She dared to mumble to him, sometimes he’d punish her if she begged too much. If she didn’t let him enjoy himself properly. Today was not one of those days though. Today Shouto wanted to hear her cry for his cock.

So he obliged, increasing his pace as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. His witch began to moan even louder as he hit that sweet spot again and again, making her dizzy with ecstasy. She never lasted long when it came to sex with Shouto, something he took great pride in. He loved nothing more than to give her multiple orgasms.

But this view just wasn’t doing it for him. He pulled out abruptly, making her cry at the sudden emptiness. He flipped her over onto her back, ripping at her blouse so that it was torn wide open for him. Then he tugged down her bra to free her breasts before reinserting himself into her. He watched her face contort with pleasure, the glossy look in her eyes as he began to pound into her at a relentless pace. The hypnotizing way her tits bounced with every thrust, they were just so perfectly in sync with one another. It was the definition of beauty.

Shouto brought a thumb to her clit, lightly pressing on it in a way that had her clamping down on him even more. It was as if she was trying to suck him in deeper, never wanting to be without him again. He grunted at this sensation, eyes burning with lust as her mouth made that perfect “o” formation with her eyes rolling back as her second orgasm overcame her.

He never talked much during sex, choosing to be a silent observer. Every now and then he’d give a command or order, but that was about it. He had never been much one for dirty talk like his father or eldest brother. The witch was fine with this. He made it hard enough for her to think without adding the pressure of comprehending something as complex as language.

Just when she thought he might be coming to his end, he increased his pace even more. She whined, still feeling incredibly sensitive from the first two orgasms. At least he had the decency to take his thumb from her aching clit. Instead he reached up and wrapped his hand around her bare throat, squeezing just enough to lessen the flow of oxygen and blood to her brain.

She gasped for air, her moans less audible now as air came out in strangled puffs. He would loosen just enough to give her a small break before tightening back up again. She grabbed at his wrist, and he waited for her sign that it was too much. A double tap anywhere on his body with her pointer and middle finger, or their safe word if she could manage it was all he needed to tell him that he’d gone too far. But neither came and so he continued to abuse her pussy with a pace so fast no human could possibly keep up, and only when she was screaming his name a third time did he finally release himself.

Shouto came inside her for the very first time. Normally he pulled out even with a condom on. He really wanted to take no risk. This time, this time he had to claim her as his somehow. If any other demon were to come to her then then they’d smell him all over her. They’d think twice before crossing a Todoroki, that was just how well known his family was.

He removed his hand from her neck, before leaning down to kiss it softly. His nose nuzzled the underside of her jaw in a way that might have appeared to be loving if either of them knew what that word really meant. Her heavy breathing slowly calmed down, delicate fingers squeezing his biceps with care. A simple sign to tell him that she was alright and that he did good. She had found that sometimes he needed encouragement. Sometimes he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be. But small reassurances were really all he needed to bounce back to normal.

“Can you stay the night?” She mumbled. Any time she asked, any time she was feeling particularly weak for him, he would turn her down. Saying he had other things to do. Saying it just wouldn’t be proper. Making any excuse he could.

This time Shouto did not move from on top of her. His mound clouded with the afterglow of such an intense orgasm. He knew then that he’d do anything for her. Anything at all. And because of that realization he hummed back a simple affirmative. He’d stay as long as she would have him.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #mha #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto imagine #bnha requests

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idontblushsrry · 3 years

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How the Jujutsu Kaisen Characters Smell

A/N: Absolutely no one asked for this but I have thoughts and now yall have to hear them. Btw gonna put a keep reading because I’m trying to cover as many jjk characters as possible so it’s gonna get long.

Warnings: Spoilers if you’ve only seen the anime or haven’t read the manga up to the Shibuya Arc (relatively minor but you’ve been warned)

Itadori

He’s nowhere near the best smelling but his scent isn’t awful

He sweats a lot so he takes showers a minimum of 2x a day

Overall his smell isn’t that bad, he just smells like outside

5/10 points for effort but he always smells like he just got done rolling around in grass

Fushiguro

Fushiguro smells like the suave ocean breeze body wash with an undertone of pen ink

His smell is very nice, it’s not the most remarkable but it’s not stinky

Middle school Megumi was definitely a hot mess that smelled solely of axe body spray and other middle schoolers he beat up (Tsumiki tried her best but there was only so much he’d compromise on)

After he started attending the Tokyo school, Maki threw out his axe and made Gojo buy him actual cologne/scented body wash

7/10 smells like a friend (points reduced because he used to use 3 in 1 body wash)

Kugisaki

Kugisaki is very much clean

She keeps up a beauty regimen and doesn’t play when it comes to upkeeping it

She has this light floral scent because of that; it varies between cucumbers and roses

Her body wash is also consistent with the smell of her beauty products

One thing about Kugisaki’s smell is that it does change completely depending on what products she’s using

Although, if she were to be completely clean with no scented products, she’d have a smell that’s a little bit metallic because of the nails and a little pumpkin-y

10/10 points because she sets the standard

Gojo

Smells like the inside of a guys car

He smells like bergamot and cedarwood mixed with a hint of leather

Overall he smells nice and it’s frustrating because his scent lingers. It’s so distinct that even when he’s gone, his scent will stay behind just to taunt you

9/10 minus one point for being Gojo

Maki

She’s very particular about hygiene

It mainly stems from 1) her upbringing and 2) the level of cleanliness needed to clean all the weapons she uses regularly

She smells of metal polish, lavender with a hint of patchouli, and a slight undertone of rust

10/10 overall very strong scent but it’s so uniquely her that it’s calming

Inumaki

This makes no sense but I feel like Inumaki smells like the sandwich part of a deli

Specifically that fresh baked bread and sliced lettuce smell

It can be a bit nostalgic at times especially because the smell in general occurs in a lot of places

10/10 because bread smells good

Panda

It’s canon that Panda smells like the sun but we can get more specific

Panda does smell like the sun but I think he smells like a freshly cleaned room with the curtains open

The smell is like air freshener mixed with the sun

The air fresheners he smells the most like are: morning and dew, wood, pine, pet odor eliminator

10/10 no explanation needed

Yuta

Smells like teen spirit

Pre-jujutsu high (and before he was sent away to Africa); Yuta smelled like deodorant

He smelled like wayyy too much old spice, it was pretty bad

Post trip to Africa (idk which country he went to), Yuta smells of shea butter, frankincense, and charred wood

8/10 the crimes of pre jujutsu high Yuta will not be easily forgiven

Nanami

He smells like the blue Ralph Polo Lauren cologne

No I will not take criticism

He also smells a bit like the wrinkle spray people use when ironing clothes

10/10 we been knew that Nanami looks good, smells good, and dresses good

I don’t even like that cologne but for him...

Shoko

Love Shoko but her smell isn’t the most pleasant

Literally smells like cigarettes and alcohol with the sterile smell of cleaner to top it off

She’s an icon but her smell can be overwhelming at the best of times and suffocating at the worst

5/10 some people might like it but it is not for me

Utahime

Her scent is very foresty, either pine or spruce, with an undertone of gree tea

Her scent is a bit muted too so you can only really smell it if she’s really close or if you’re hugging her

It’s not a bad scent though, it’s the type that immediately sets you on ease

10/10 smells like a warm hug

Mechamaru(spoilers)

He’s a robot what’d you expect???

Jkjk Pre-Shibuya he smells really sterile and clean due to his condition

His robots obviously smell like metal and wiring

Post-Shibuya arc(or yk during technically): He smells kind of like nothing

There's the slightest smell of sparks from his cursed technique and the hint of mojito’s smell lingering, but otherwise he smells like absolutely nothing

6/10 the lack of smell is a bit off putting

Miwa

I can’t explain but I feel like Miwa smells like banana and vanilla

Like Mai and Momo tricked her and she ended up actually liking the smell

6/10 not the worst but not the best

Mai

Mai smells really heavily of metal and gunpowder

Obviously brcause of her cursed technique but she ever expected it to stck to her like it does

She doesn’t make any active effort to change it though because she thinks it makes her seem cool and mysterious

4/10 because while it DOES make her seem cool and mysterious, she scares locals

Momo

She definitely uses bath and body works perfume (tempted to say she uses the glittery versions but alas)

She loves using all the candles, lotions, and perfumes because of how girly they make her feel; has a collection that’s probably on a rotater

Definitely uses sweet pea above all

Tries to get Mai to try some of her fragrances but she has a 30/70 chance of getting her to agree

7/10 another scent that’s not for me

Todo

He has a really intense cleaning regimen and is never caught lackin in the smell department

He gets all the more embarrassed when Yuuji smells stinky next to him and will always make Yuuji shower if thr boy stinks

Other than that, he smelled of an ocean-y cologne before Takada-chan released her perfume collection

Now all he talks about is how he smells like the perfect husband for Takada

Takada’s perfume is really light a floral (along the lines of rose + vanilla) and if Todo runs out, he tries to steal it from Momo’s collection

9/10 minus a point for being a simp

Noritoshi

Smells really clean except for when he’s using his cursed technique

On average, Noritoshi smells like the clean linen spray/ clean laundry

When he uses his technique, he smells like blood and when he uses his technique to “dope”, he smells like sweat

Usually he smells like clean laundry though, he’s very picky about how he smells and hates the smell he gets from using his technique

10/10 for keeping clean

Naoya

If you think this man washes his ass...

Sorry but he’s a little too busy being a misogynist

Naoya saw the term gooch grease and was like “wow someone gets it!”

-400/10 I’m sick of talking about the ways this man smells like a popped neck pimple

Mahito

Only person that smells worse than Naoya

If Naoya smells like a popped neck pimple, Mahito smells like a literal sewer

He smells like sewage, garbage, rot and decay, melted plastic,etc.

Not only does Mojito’s body stink, his breath stinks, hair stinks, just everything stinks

Jogo and Hanami can’t tell since they don’t have noses but everytime Geto gets a whiff, he dies a little inside

-21982913293237932392379319210391090320323019/10 GET BACK. GET BACK. GET BACK.

Sukuna

Pre-death; he smelled like blood 9 times out of 10

The other 10% of times he smelled like incense or jasmine but you’d never smell it for long

Post-death; stinky funky and rotten

I’m sorry but 1) he’s a mass murder who literally sits atop a mountain of skulls 2) he’s technically dead and only exists thriugh his fingers

If you think that man smells like anything other than rot and grave wax...

-2/10 be glad he got a higher score than Mahito

Choso

I love Choso with every ounce of my being

That being said, he smells like a scab

Scabs don’t even have smells but somehow he smells like one

Alright I’m done slandering him

3/10 because I didn’t have the heart to give him anything lower

Geto(spoilers)

Pre-Gojo angst: Geto was the best smelling sorcerer in the world

He was very meticulous about his grooming routine and showed Gojo how to care for himself w/o the aid of servants

A king of self care and personal grooming 10/10

Post-Gojo angst: Geto really stopped caring about his appearance

He’d keep clean to set a good example for his kids, but he didn’t really see the value of looking decent

Probably says “I refuse to use the technology of monkeys”

Even though Mahito smells worse, Geto does still hang around Mahito and that’s gonna rub off

2/10 take a shower man, sea water doesn’t count as cleaning yourself

Junpei

Junpei smells like dandelions/picked grass and cigarettes

Cigarettes are obviously because his mom smokes them so frequently the smell sticks to him

The dandelions/ picked grass smell is because Junpei spends a lot of time outside

Out of boredom or a need to keep his negative thoughts at bay, Junpei started picking at the grass

I do think he eventually started weaving flower crowns made of dandelions and strips of grass

6/10 because I feel bad for him

Toji

This man...

As much as I’d like to pretend he smells good, he has a drooling worm hanging off him and probably owns like one outfit

That being said, he’s not as stinky as Naoya or Mahito (or even Sukuna), because he does clean himself when he has the chance

It’s just that he spends his money so quickly that he kinda forgets sometimes

Although he usually has no problem finding some woman who’d be more than willing to put him up in a hotel room

His smell is musky but it’s not funky

He smells like a guy right before they start to get stinky, it’s a delicate balance

4/10 he’s a lil funky but it kinda feeds his image

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anya-grace · 3 years

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Two beautiful people sent me an ask about my rivetra actors au, and boyyyy let me tell you, it was so fun making them again 😍 thank you to the pretty souls who asked this! 💘

The first actors au were from season 1 and 2, this one will focus on the filming of season 3 until the last season :) here you go!

more rivetra actors!au headcanon (some are nsfw-ish)

- Let me get straight to the point: lots of sex. Car sex. On-set sex. Dressing room sex. Name it.

- Both of them are aware that it was unprofessional, but there was a time when they did not see each other for more than a month because of their (especially Levi’s) busy and conflicting schedule, so when Petra surprised him on set, the frustration and longing just piled up and they had sex.

- Then it became a habit.

- And this habit, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by the other casts and even crews of the show. Armin heard them once, and the poor boy made a mental note to never ever come close to Levi’s room again.

- The older casts are fine with it since, you know, normal adult stuff. But for the love of the three Walls, can you lovebirds tone the moaning down? People are trying to get some sleep wtf.

- Levi’s make-up artist had to deal with the pain of covering his hickeys (courtesy of Ms. Petra Ral) every shoot. The ones on his neck, especially those near his adam’s apple were the most visible. And since Captain Levi rarely wore a cravat in season three, part one, it made the work harder for the make-up artist.

- As compensation, Petra always bought a special souvenir for Levi’s make-up artist whenever she flies overseas for her theater shows.

- For the premiere of season 3, Levi took Petra as his date on the red carpet. It was the first event they attended publicly as a couple.

- It was a big milestone for their relationship because they are both public figures. And we all know what happens when celebrities publicize their relationships, it is prone to issues and controversies.

- And you can very well guess that Levi Ackerman showing off his beautiful girlfriend to the press was big news. As big as the AoT premiere even.

- During the air of season three, Levi became more famous and he attracted many overseas fans as well as international actresses because of his brilliant scenes with Kenny.

- Although Petra is not the jealous type, she admitted that somehow it affected her when other international actresses expressed their admiration towards Levi. Some even said that Levi is their type and they are looking forward to working with him in the future.

- When Levi sensed this, he immediately headed to his IG and posted a picture of Petra with a very cheesy caption lmao. Forgive him, he's new to this kind of relationship.

- Did I mention he also posted a picture of them kissing in front of the Eiffel tower?

- Only a few know this, but the real Levi is one clingy boyfriend.

- He is very touchy when it comes to Petra. He just really loves holding her. Sometimes he just randomly hugs her, caresses her, nuzzles her. He just loves having skin-to-skin contact with her.

- His love language is actions and gestures.

- His favorite gesture to do to Petra is a back hug with his arms under her boobs. It was a soft gesture and it wasn't sexual in any way...until it did.

- More than half of their sex started with Levi touching Petra’s underboobs tbh.

- Sometimes Levi thinks that he's neglecting Petra and more than once he considered quitting the show business for her. But then he’ll see her smiling at him, and she tells him that she's very proud of what he’s doing and that she's happy that she gets to support him with doing the things he is really passionate about and just… all he could think of that time is that he wants to marry this amazing woman.

- He is also supportive of Petra’s theater actress career, of course. And he hates the fact that he needs to hide whenever he watches one of her shows since people eventually gather around him asking for an autograph and he feels that it’s rude for Petra. This is her moment and he doesn’t want to ruin it for her.

- Hence, his all-black and mysterious get-up whenever he watches her show.

- AoT season three was a huge success and plans for season four are already on the move. Casts were given a long break before the shooting began again and both Petra and Levi took this as a chance to bond together.

-Petra's favorite thing to do with Levi is playing with animals. She has a soft spot for animals, and she wanted for them to adopt a pet but she knew that the poor animal will only be given less attention because both of them are always busy.

-When Petra's theater world tour ended, she and Levi started living together. They didn't have the chance to do it before since they were both busy.

-Them living together is probably the height of their relationship. They fought, they had sex, they laughed, they played, they bathe together. They did everything together and it was a beautiful experience.

- For their third anniversary, Levi booked a vacation on a private island for a week. It was also their last bonding because Levi is going to start filming again for season four in less than a month.

- They did not communicate with anyone during that one week. It was just them, and they made the most of it.

- Mornings were spent for morning sex and breakfast in bed. Afternoons were for swimming, sleeping, cuddling, hugging, kissing, and every activity they could think of doing. They explored the island, they petted stray animals, they dived into the ocean, they build sandcastles, they ate different dishes, they had sex in caves and while swimming on the beach, they climbed trees, they bought souvenirs, and most importantly, they took many pictures together.

- Evenings were the most romantic of all. They had sex in the darkness of their own room while they hear the ocean waves crashed to the shore outside and as the sea breeze cooled their sweat-slicked skin. They took the time to explore each other’s body like it’s their last (because it will be in a matter of days).

- On their last night, Pet cried while they’re having sex. Levi’s face was buried on the crook of her neck and she was moaning one moment, and then the next she’s sobbing like a poor little baby.

- She said that she’d gotten used to life with Levi always by her side and she didn’t want it to ever change. Levi comforted her. He petted her hair, and he said that it’s going to be okay. He kissed her head, then her hair, her face, and her body. Then they had the most emotional and meaningful sex of their entire life.

- Levi started shooting again for season four. Petra, like the past seasons, visits him as much as she can. It was hard adjusting to this type of life again, but she’s a strong woman. And besides, she’s going to start rehearsing for another theater show again.

- They need to undergo medical check-ups before the casting and she found out then that she is pregnant with Levi’s baby.

- It freaked her out. She and Levi never talked about babies before since they’re busy with their careers, and their relationship has always been just the two of them.

- Levi was out of town for the shoot, and she didn’t want to tell him the good news on the phone so she patiently waited until he got home.

- He was greeted with a fancy dinner, and a “Welcome home, Daddy” by Petra. Levi thought that it was her being cheeky and naughty at first, but when dinner ended and she ran for her life to the sink, that’s when he started getting worried. And when Petra showed him the positive result in her medical check-up, well, let’s just say that on that day, Levi Ackerman received a good reminder of what he did to her on their vacation months ago.

- But seriously, he was seconds away from calling his manager and dropping his AoT contract just so he can take care of Petra and their baby. Petra said that it was fine, and she doesn’t want him to quit.

- Levi apologized to Petra many times because he wasn’t there when she discovered it, but she assured him that it was alright and it wasn’t his fault. God, he’s with the perfect woman.

- Since Levi is a big shot in the industry, he demanded control over his schedules. Honestly, he wanted to be at her side 24/7. He wanted to see her belly swell as months went by. He wanted to be the one to satisfy her midnight pregnancy cravings. He wanted to kiss her face and her belly first thing in the morning.

- He convinced Petra to move temporarily to the Ackerman family house where Levi’s parents are staying. Kenny and Mikasa also lived in the same affluent neighborhood. He had doctors, and helpers, and bodyguards hired for Petra. But she said that she’s too uncomfortable with many people around her.

- Petra and Levi’s mom build a bond of their own. She’d gotten to know more of Levi through his mother’s perspective. The older woman showed her Levi’s teenage room, his past awards, his photos, his audition tapes that weren’t out for the public, and she fell in love with him more.

- They had a super private wedding with their relatives and closest friends. Petra was six months pregnant by that time and season four is planned to air three months from now.

- So, you know about that one holy Rivetra panel where Petra is looking back to Levi? The reason why the scene was not in the actual show was that she is pregnant. That’s why the directors are forced to use old scenes from season one instead.

- Despite all the efforts of being private, paparazzi and the media still caught wind of the secret wedding, and rumors about Petra being pregnant started circulating over the internet. Levi shut down these rumors every time someone attempted to question him in his interviews.

- When the shooting ended, Petra was already eight months into pregnancy. As per tradition, the cast and staff held an after-party, but Petra was surprised when it became a baby shower for her instead.

- The baby was supposedly due in the third week of December, but Petra’s water broke around the first week instead and she started her labor. She ended up having the same birthday as their healthy baby boy.

- The baby was named River Ackerman. He was named after Levi’s role where he won the Best Actor Award when he was seventeen. It was also a tribute to Levi’s role in AoT since his name was sometimes spelled as ‘Rivaille’ on many occasions.

#this was so long oh boy #i love this au so much tooooo #y'all can send me more ask about this au if u want :)#rivetra #levi x petra #rivapeto #rivetra headcanon #rivetra actors au

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florrickandassociates · 3 years

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TGF Thoughts: 5x06- And the two partners had a fight...

I’ve been waiting for this episode for nearly a decade, and I didn’t even realize it. More under the cut.

(This is very long! Please fight me on stuff and disagree because I just wrote all these words about this episode and I STILL want to talk about it more, it was that interesting!)

This is the second episode in a row to start off with a TikTok video. 5x02 and 5x03 both ended with elevators. Is there some sort of pattern they’re going for here?

This case—which is, it’s important to note, in Wackner’s court—is about TikTok content creators and copyright laws. Probably not enough material for a full case, but definitely an interesting theme to explore.

Marissa doesn’t have her laptop volume off (which I suppose makes sense; she was just playing the TikTok videos) and a notification sounds. She shuts the laptop.

Wackner rules that the profits made from the TikTok dance must be split evenly between the guy who stole the dance for his video game and the creator. The thief does not like this, removes his moose costume (oh, yeah, did I mention they’re in costumes again?), and starts shouting that he’s going to sue and then moons the whole court. Okay!

He follows through on his threat, and next thing we know, Liz, Cord, Wackner, and Marissa are meeting to discuss strategy.

Liz’s computer makes the same noise Marissa’s did; she punches some keys.

Liz points out that Wackner’s biggest problem is that real judges are not going to like Wackner playacting as a judge. “I’m not playing a judge. I am a judge,” Wackner says. Liz notes that Wackner’s court lacks any way of forcing people to comply with his rulings, but real court can shut him down.

I guess whatever keys Liz punched did not silence the annoying notification sound.

She asks Wackner to try not to become the focus of the court case, since that’s how they’ll lose. “This is why I started a court,” Wackner says after Liz instructs him to only answer yes or no and to wear a suit.

Liz asks Marissa to keep Wackner in line. She says she’ll try.

Now we are at the Black Lawyers Association, where there’s a panel with leaders from Chicago’s four top black law firms. For reasons passing understanding, DIANE is on this panel. This makes absolutely no sense (I mean, unless only white people were involved in this decision, and even then!) and I’ll only excuse it because they mention later that it makes no sense for Diane to have been on this panel.

I wonder why everyone else’s firm gets named but not Diane’s.

Diane also gets the first question, which is, pointedly, about opportunities for black lawyers. Her phone starts making the annoying notification sound. Ever heard of silent mode??

The annoying sound happens every five seconds at the RL offices. According to David Lee, it happens twenty times an hour, but it seems like more than that! He, for some reason, goes to Carmen to ask how to stop the sound. He also wants to know what it is. Carmen explains that it is “Dawnk” which is a new messaging system within the company.

On Dawnk, you can talk about anything you want and be anonymous. Who approved this?! In one frame, I can see there’s someone complaining about someone being promoted too fast because of “the future is female bs.” In another, someone is upset that they are anonymous and wants to use their real name (only Jay, who is otherwise absent from this episode, seems to have figured out how to turn this anon mode off).

Sorry, before I can get on board with this plot, I just need to note for the record how phenomenally stupid the idea of using anonymous messaging software within a company is. This was obviously not going to end well! It’s like workplace YikYak... (remember YikYak?!)

David Lee hates the idea of a messaging software; Carmen says the associates prefer this.

Jay is being very nice in the chat and defends the person who was promoted “too fast”.

“Who’s ‘Anonymous Crab’?” David Lee asks. Well, I think the fact they are “anonymous” should be a bit of a hint there, David.

Anonymous Crab asks, “How the hell did this happen??! How did Diane end up at a Black Conference speaking for our firm?” Good question, Anonymous Crab.

Anon Crab also shares a video and David Lee doesn’t understand how to press play. Carmen plays it for him. Diane looks really awful on the panel. No shit! David Lee seems to enjoy Diane looking bad, even though he should be able to connect the dots between Diane looking bad and potential for bad things to come for the firm...

Not only does Diane get quizzed about why she’s running a firm that is still insisting on calling itself a black firm, she also gets questions about her insurrectionist husband. “He was completely cleared of those charges,” Diane notes. Oh, hey!!!!! Remember how last week I said I’d be more surprised if that was the end of the FBI nonsense than if it continued? I am surprised!! And relieved. Mostly relieved. Dealing with the consequences of that high profile, relationship-straining ordeal is so much more interesting to me than any FBI machinations.

Next Diane is asked if Kurt just took a job to revitalize the NRA. She hasn’t heard of this yet. I’m glad she’s getting grilled on this stuff... it is about time.

There’s a hint that Carmen will be representing Mr. Rapey next week. I assume that’s why there’s a line where David checks in with Carmen on Mr. Rapey’s case?

Anon Platypus says, “I heard she didn’t even have seniority. She just jumped past other black partners to become our name partner. It’s crazy!!!” Anon Platypus is correct—technically. Diane was a name partner at one of Chicago’s top firms before joining RL, so while she skipped the line... that doesn’t seem to me like the PRIMARY issue in bringing her on. The primary issue is that bringing on someone that senior from outside the company is more similar to a merger than a promotion, and Diane’s partnership meant changes for the firm.

Other anonymous animals also don’t like Diane. One calls her clueless; another says that “Liz needs to do something about this.” Someone responds to that, “Liz will never do it on her own,” which is an interesting sentiment I want to come back to in a little bit.

“What is Black Twitter?” David Lee asks Liz out of the blue. “People on Twitter who are black and talk to each other,” Liz responds. David Lee asks how he can find it. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Liz jokes. And to think Jay said Liz wasn’t funny!

The Dawnk conversation shifts and now everyone’s ragging on Julius for representing Kurt and just generally being a Trump voter. There’s a lot of heated and racial language I’m not going to type here, enough to make Julius spit out his coffee and storm down to the associate floor.

He goes to Devin, who I’m not sure if we’ve seen before but is high ranking enough to have Lucca’s old office, to get information on the anonymous posts.

Anonymous Bison says, “Unpopular opinion: I blame Adrian.” Hey, Anon Bison, let’s be friends! I am with you. Adrian is the one who brought Diane on, who encouraged them to lean into Julius’s Trump connections, and who pushed the firm to pursue profit over everything else. Diane and Julius aren’t blameless (though I don’t actually think defending Kurt is a bad thing) but if there’s someone who actively strategized to make RL what it is today? Adrian all the way.

In what world does noting that Julius is pissed in an anonymous message do ANYTHING to stop people who are pissed at him? If they were that concerned about him being pissed they wouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

Liz and opposing counsel talk over each other in court until the judge makes them stop. I think we’ve seen both the judge and opposing counsel this season, making me wonder if there’s a bit of a COVID bubble situation going on here with the guest stars.

Judge Farley jokes about “contempt cards” that go up in value and Wackner, of course, is all, “Wow, I really love that.”

Liz, whose entire strategy was to not let on that anyone calls Wackner a judge, refers to Wackner as “Judge Wackner.” Come on, Liz! (I buy that she’d slip up—there's no one in the world I wouldn’t believe slipping up—but ugh!)

How did the opposition not realize that they could make this about Wackner’s “crazy court” by referring to him as Judge Wackner? You’d think they’d be all over that.

Judge Farley looks SO unhappy that Wackner would refer to himself as a judge; it’s phenomenal.

Now Marissa stumbles over stuff because she’s, for some reason, speaking in court. I bought Liz’s dumb moment more.

The plaintiff’s strategy is to make it look like Wackner is of unsound mind, and they’ve got video evidence. Remember how Del, Cord, and Wackner all chatted in the RL elevator? Well, turns out that lead to a reality show about Wackner for Del’s streaming service. Sounds about right.

I don’t really think Wackner cares about attention or anyone else’s motivations... I think he just likes the idea of budget and an audience and a platform.

Liz meets Del for a romantic dinner and asks him when he was going to tell her about Wackner’s show. Del doesn’t understand why she’s upset. He doesn’t get why he would’ve needed her permission to go into business with Wackner. (I don’t think he’s wrong from a business POV, but from a relationship POV, he totally should’ve let her know!)

Liz says he should’ve asked because they’re using it against her in court. “That is unfortunate, baby, but this streaming show could be really good for Wackner. It’ll draw attention to his court. And... as I say that...that sounds... okay, look I’m sorry,” Del realizes. I like that he sees that Liz has a point. He goes on to note that he would be totally open to Liz trying to go into business with any of his acquaintances, and I think he genuinely means it.

Del notes that this is what “power couples” do. Oh? So they’re an official couple? Don’t power couples also associate in public and not hide their relationship from their colleagues?

This is the place where I note, yet again, that it is always going to be more interesting to see a relationship that feels realistic than to see a relationship that feels like it takes place in a vacuum.

Liz doesn’t want Wackner becoming popular. Del argues someone else would’ve made the show if he didn’t, and that “disrupters gotta disrupt.” Oh God.

Are we going to remember that Liz has a child at any point this season?

Diane is reading the Dawnk discussion at home. It’s still lively even after work hours. The associates appear to be discussing the vaccine before someone changes the topic to “the Diane situation.”

One associate notes that the partners probably aren’t happy about Diane either and just have to vote her out. Kurt arrives home as Diane reads this, reacts to the loud music Diane has playing, the open alcohol, and her general demeanor and asks if they’re getting drunk. “Are we getting a job with the NRA?” she counters.

Turns out it’s not entirely untrue about Kurt and the NRA. They want him for a new role. It would pay $167,000. I can’t decide if I think that’s a lot (objectively that’s a high salary) or not very much at all (isn’t Kurt the top of his field?)

Kurt notes he doesn’t have a job so he’s considering it. “Diane, our politics are very different,” he starts. “I know,” Diane says. “I’m, lately, struck by just how different they are.”

“I would just like one week when I don’t have to defend you,” Diane says in frustration. Kurt doesn’t even know what that means at the current moment.

“You’ll tell me when they offer you the job?” Diane asks. “They may not offer it,” Kurt says. “No, they will,” Diane says, because she knows that it’s basically a done deal already.

In the middle of the night, Diane turns to Kurt and tries to ask him a question. That wakes him up. She asks who he voted for in 2020 and he doesn’t answer. Uh oh.

Dreaming now, Diane sits up and asks, “Hello? What do I do?” More on that later...

The HR nightmare known as Dawnk is still going wild the next day at the office. (Seriously, with HR that strict, the anon feature would’ve been disabled the second the first semi-controversial comment was posted.) Everyone’s obsessed.

The partners, minus Diane, all gather in Liz’s office to discuss Dawnk (and the topics of conversation on Dawnk). Madeline says they should ignore it. I say they should make STR Laurie shut it down and be the bad guy. It is nonsensical that this workplace would continue to allow Dawnk to continue! In addition to being an HR nightmare, it’s also a drain on productivity if everyone’s constantly glued to it, and I imagine STR Laurie cares about profit more than anything else.

But like I really don’t get why Madeline says they can’t censor their associates. Of course they can shut down the app if they want to! Someone put the app there in the first place, no? I do understand not wanting to look like you’re violating free speech (even though taking away anonymous commenting in the workplace would not be a violation of free speech) but I highly doubt it would be only the partners complaining. Tina, whose promotion was called into question, would be complaining too. Anyone trying to get work done, or anyone who didn’t like the toxic culture, or anyone who was uncomfortable with a joke made, would be complaining. There are more than enough reasons it would be perfectly acceptable to take the anon commenting away.

Now the partners are fighting about Kurt’s case too. “Diane is not responsible for her husband,” Liz says when Madeline says that Diane should’ve known better than to get involved. Um, Liz, Madeline is right. Diane isn’t responsible for Kurt’s actions but she’s sure as hell responsible for volunteering to represent him.

“In the real world of this firm, Diane’s billable hours speak for themselves,” Liz notes when a partner tries to call Diane’s unsavory associations into question.

“The rest of us put in the hours too, for the record,” notes another partner. I’m sure... but do you put in DIANE’S hours and have DIANE’S client list? My guess is no. If Diane weren’t the biggest earner at the firm we wouldn’t be having this debate. She’d just be gone. She’d never have been at the firm to begin with.

“Liz, when I joined this firm, it was because of your father’s legacy. It was about Black civil rights, activism, justice. That’s what people talked about in meetings. Now, people talk about billable hours, million-dollar clients, corporate payouts. Now, I know it’s not your fault. That was Boseman’s vision and we were trying to survive the Trump years by bringing in white lawyers, but those days are gone. They’re done with. And I miss being a strong black firm,” Madeline says. Everyone but Liz (and probably Julius) seems to agree with that.

This is one of many interesting facets of this issue. When Madeline argues against Diane, she’s not just arguing that she wants a black person running the firm for optics. She’s not saying that Diane-but-black would be an acceptable choice. She is saying she wants RL to be the firm it was at the very very start of the show—a firm committed to social justice, not maximizing revenue. A firm that didn’t just accept every client that came their way because they love profit. A firm that stood for something. So my question is: Does Liz want that firm?

Liz is hard to read throughout this whole plot, and I think that may be intentional. Liz isn’t a manager by training—she was an AUSA who suddenly became a name partner at a firm (if you want to talk about seniority and skipping the line, Liz is a way better example than Diane—you can even through some nepotism, twice over, in there). She doesn’t seem to have a clear goal for her firm other than maintaining the status quo and keeping power. Liz not taking a stronger stance from the start (either accepting that they are no longer going to be a social justice-oriented firm or pushing to get them back to that place) allows these kinds of questions to fester. It’s my hope that this becomes text instead of subtext pretty soon, ‘cause this is the kind of thing that if it’s subtext for too long will start to feel like bad writing/Liz being conveniently clueless. It’s way more interesting if Liz is just not yet good at being a manager... because she is learning on the job.

Anyway. I think the ideal solution here is probably that Diane and Liz continue to run RL: A STR Laurie Company (the fact they’re owned by corporate overlords kind of makes any decision about RL’s mission moot) since Diane wants to do that and Liz seems to be content where she is. Madeline and the other partners, instead of trying to force STRL to let them pursue the cases they want, can accept pay cuts and go start their own firm. Maybe they can even team up with Barbara Kolstad!

None of that’s to say that the dilemma here is easily solvable, nor is it to say that Diane shouldn’t consider stepping down. I’ll say more on that later. My point here is just that this issue is much deeper than just if Diane is on the letterhead or not. As long as they’re owned by STR Laurie and have clients like Rivi, Diane stepping aside would just be a band-aid.

(And that, I think, is intentional... they’ve been building the “why are we even representing x?” tension pretty consistently this season, so I imagine it’s on the writers’ minds.)

Diane stumbles across the secret partner’s meeting and knows something’s up.

“You gotta handle this, Liz. You cannot have a white partner leading a black firm. We’ll lose clients with that kind of hypocrisy” Madeline insists after Diane heads back to her office. I’ve already said it, but just to say it in a less rambly way: Madeline is right, but she’s right IF AND ONLY IF the goal is to be a black firm. So, Liz, is it?

(They’ll lose clients, sure, but which ones? They’ll lose the clients Madeline wants while Diane continues to keep bringing in business and Rivi and Cord and Wolfe-Colman and their elk* stay put.)

*I know this is not the correct word; see 6x17 of TGW

David Lee has also noticed the meeting in Liz’s office and thinks this may be the “beginning of the end.” Diane glares at him and he says he was just joking.

Diane schedules a meeting with Liz. Liz’s assistant doesn’t know Diane by voice, adding to her frustration.

Credits! We are 22 minutes in! This might be a record if 5x01 hadn’t saved the credits til the very end!

I’ve already written more than I did last week by a couple hundred words.

Two interesting things about the credits. First, this episode was written by Aurin Squire. Forgive me if I’ve mentioned this in a prior recap (I know I thought about it but can’t remember if I deleted), but I think Aurin Squire and Davita Scarlett are key to why TGF and Evil are both always so good. They’re the two writers other than the Kings who are in both the TGF and Evil rooms, and they both REALLY seem to be on the same wavelength as the Kings. I imagine that having four people who are in both rooms helps with managing both at basically the same time.

(This isn’t where I wanted to go with this bullet point, but I may as well shout out how great Evil is this season, too! It also just aired an episode by Aurin Squire about the lead white female character realizing her privilege!)

Second, this episode was directed by Brooke Kennedy. I didn’t know that going in, but seconds before the director credit popped up, I was thinking to myself, “this episode feels like it’s going to be a very important one. I bet Brooke directed it.” I was very pleased to see her name appear.

(For anyone who doesn’t know, Brooke is an EP who’s been involved in nearly every episode of both Wife and Fight and she tends to direct important episodes that require a lot of familiarity with the characters. She directed 5x15 of The Good Wife and she’s done a bunch of the premieres and finales that Robert King hasn’t claimed for himself.)

Diane and Liz meet in a bar to catch up. Diane’s still staring at Dawnk. Liz takes her phone and silences the notifications. “Who thought that sound was pleasing?” Diane complains. “All day in court today,” Liz commiserates. Carmen had to teach her how to silence the notifications. Liz, you’re using an iPhone, there is a very easy to use switch that silences your phone, like you would need to for court. I know you know this.

(I think Diane, despite her complaining about the sound, is captivated by Dawnk.)

Liz orders soda water instead of a drink. I assume that’s intentional, perhaps because she knows this isn’t going to be an easy conversation or a long night of drinking? She has wine in an earlier scene.

I love that Liz and Diane chat about Dawnk even though there’s no real plot reason for them to spend this much time discussing it. Little moments like this make me believe Liz and Diane are actually colleagues who get along well and make management decisions together.

Diane asks if Liz thinks Dawnk actually increases productivity. Liz laughs—she does not. But she knows the associates would “riot” if they got rid of it. She’s right. I still think they can get rid of it without too much blowback. But at least they’re acknowledging this.

“What do the partners think?” Diane asks, very intentionally shifting the subject. You can hear it in Christine’s voice and see it in her body language—Diane is looking for an opportunity to talk about what she wants to talk about.

“God, Madeline can’t even open it. She’s lost her password three times. She finally just gave up,” Liz says. This is concerning! Madeline should know how to open an app! Probably not unrealistic, though. When you’re that senior, you probably don’t need to know how to use a messaging app. And messaging apps can be confusing sometimes. Like, I still don’t understand how to use Discord.

The captions have a line I can’t hear in this scene—Liz (I presume?) saying “You know, ‘cause it’s Madeline.” This makes it sound like Madeline is a little less than competent, no?

“Thanks for sitting down with me, Liz,” Diane says in a quite serious tone. “Of course. So, you’re wondering about the meeting today?” Liz immediately understands. “I am.” “Yeah. Uh, it was about Julius. He’s being harassed on Dawnk,” Liz explains.

“Okay, and I couldn’t be a part of that?” Diane wants to know. “He’s being harassed because he’s defending your husband,” Liz explains. Diane doesn’t seem surprised (perhaps because she, too, would have read these messages?). “Well, that’s unfortunate. We’ve represented people far worse than Kurt, who, by the way, was found innocent,” Diane argues like they’re having a very different conversation. It’s one thing to represent rapists and murderers and drug lords—and I’d argue that the same people pissed about Kurt are also pissed about them!-- and another for your leadership to be married to/close friends with someone who you believe participated in the events of 1/6.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t. But, January 6th. I mean, we watched the Confederate flag make its way into the Capitol building. You know, those people that Kurt didn’t want to turn over to the FBI, those people. They don’t even want us alive,” Liz says better than I ever could. I think it’s important that Liz mentions a POV that likely wouldn’t have ever crossed Diane’s mind here. This is a small glimpse of why it could be so important to have black leadership at a black firm. Would Diane be thinking about the implications of having the Confederate flag in the Capitol? Probably not in the same way that Liz instantly does.

“Well, not all of them,” Diane Lockhart, who is suddenly an idiot, says. Liz looks at her drink and grimaces, and Diane realizes she’s said something wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m certainly not defending those people. They’re all despicable traitors.”

“And now, that’s what people are saying about Julius,” Liz explains. “And me?” Diane asks, though she already knows the answer. Liz doesn’t want to answer that. Before she can say anything, Diane asks if she’s being pushed out.

“No. Not pushed out. You’re a name partner. You can’t be pushed out,” Liz clarifies. Diane knows there’s a but. “The partners just think you should do the right thing,” Liz adds.

“And step aside?” Diane asks. “No. Stay in the firm. Stay as an equity partner, just step back from your managerial role,” Liz says. Diane pauses. “Liz, I... I pull in the big clients. I... I get the billable hours. But still, ‘maybe you should step aside.’ Weren’t we going to form a firm led by women?” Diane argues. Oh, wow, I have so much to say.

First, I completely understand why Diane doesn’t want to give up her title or her power. She's Diane Lockhart! She’s been one of the best in her field for decades. She’s not wrong about the clients and billable hours. It’s just that every time Diane decides to be at this firm, making arguments about how she should retain her role in power, she’s saying that she values her own career/appearance more than the values she claims to care about. And every time she refuses to take a back seat or threatens to walk rather than sacrifice, she’s saying she’ll only through her weight behind her colleagues and their mission if she gets credit for it. To be clear, I don’t think it would be the shittiest decision in the world if Diane decided to walk, to take her clients to a new firm and to let RL become the firm Madeline and the rest envision. It’s asking a lot of her to give up that power and prestige. The interesting part of this dilemma is, to me, that Diane claims to value working for RL and to be active in the fight against racism... but the second she’s forced to choose between that fight and her own power, we all know what Diane is going to choose. There was never really any doubt. Diane doesn’t have to be on the forefront of this fight if she doesn’t want to... but she can’t claim to be invested in the fight if she isn’t willing to sacrifice, at all.

Second, LMAO at this firm led by women idea. Every time Diane talks about her firm led by women idea it sounds sillier! Not because a firm led by women is silly, but because Diane has a habit of saying this like it is a shared goal and each time she references it, it sounds less and less intersectional. For example, when she says it here, she’s essentially saying a firm led by women only has meaning if one of those women is a white woman (specifically a white woman named Diane Lockhart). Who’s to say that Madeline wouldn’t be made partner in Diane’s absence? Or Barbara (haha) or someone else we haven’t met? There is a very real possibility that Liz and another woman could run the firm and Diane would still be unhappy about it. Diane doesn’t ask Liz for a commitment that if she does step aside, her replacement would be female (idk if it’s legal to make this commitment but you get my point). Diane acts like asking her to step aside is already a betrayal of the female led firm.

“And I hope that it will be,” Liz says, basically hinting to Diane that there are women in the world besides her.

“But black women?” Diane says, agitatedly. “Diane, I... am not voting against you. I promised you that I wouldn’t. But there is growing anger here. They want to address it at the next partners' meeting. So just think about it,” Liz responds.

I think Liz is totally fair and forthcoming in this scene and strikes pretty much the right tone for this initial conversation. She gives Diane a choice and is honest with her.

“You’re a good person,” Liz adds. Diane does a double-take, understanding that Liz is actually telling her “You are a good person, so you know that you absolutely need to step aside.”

“No, I’m not!” Diane responds. As I said: Diane already knows what she is going to do. She needs to do mental gymnastics to excuse her actions, but her mind was made up before the question was even raised. (She did warn Liz in 5x01 she was going to fight any attempt to push her out.)

“Yes, you are,” Liz says again. She may as well be saying, “No, don’t try this. Everyone will think you’re in the wrong if you push this.”

Later, at home, Diane is doing some stretches on the floor and groaning. I don’t know if this scene is meant to show her age, but it does remind me that Diane is nearly 70 and started off this show by planning to retire. Retirement doesn’t seem to be an option for her here. (That’s fine by me; she is a workaholic whose career is her life.)

Kurt asks Diane what she wants to do. She says she wants to keep her name on the letterhead and “keep what I fought for.” Heh, I was just re-reading something I wrote about Cary a while ago and I’d pointed out that when Alicia and Cary discuss merging with what’s left of LG, Cary is also concerned about his name on the letterhead because even though he wants to change the world, he also cares about having power. It’s almost like Diane and Cary are really similar characters! (They are! That’s why the Diane/Cary moment in Hitting the Fan is so good!)

Diane calls her position as name partner a fight against “gender and then age discrimination.” She isn’t wrong, especially when you consider how meaningful it likely was when she and Stern went into business together. It’s very easy for me to forget that when Diane has such an attachment to fighting for white women’s rights, it’s not just because she’s out of touch and selfish: it’s because that was something she personally had to fight for. That doesn’t make it okay that she seems to forget the concept of intersectionality (which she’s definitely aware of) the second anything challenges her own power, but it does explain why a firm run by women is so important to her.

Diane is not wrong that she deserves name partnership and she’s not wrong to not want to step aside. Yet, starting a war to retain her position as name partner is a CHOICE. The best thing for Diane to do here (morally, I mean) would be for her to step aside and throw her resources behind the firm’s new leadership, using her experiences and stature to benefit the firm (this would also be a way for her to cement her legacy and mentor a new generation of leaders). The best compromise, I think, would be for someone to leave the current firm—either Diane or the dissenting partners, probably Diane since Liz seems to agree with Madeline—without any hard feelings. The worst possible choice is for Diane to insist that this firm is hers and force every single tension at the firm to come to a head, screwing over Liz in the process and potentially permanently ruining the firm’s status as a black firm. Sooo... yeah.

(I say it could ruin the firm’s status as a black firm because if Diane’s a white partner who happens to be there and the firm is mostly black, that’s one thing. If Diane is a white partner who fought all of the black partners to assert her own dominance over their firm... that’s hard to come back from. She can’t really call herself an ally, can she?)

“Diane, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you sound defeated,” Kurt says. “Because I can’t win this,” she says. She insists she can’t even after Kurt tries to cheer her on (of course he does, he probably thinks having an all black firm is just identity politics and therefore worthless).

“You just don’t want to,” Kurt says. He is not wrong. This is a winnable fight for Diane. Liz is smart but Diane has the experience, the clients, the power, and her own reputation to use in this fight. Liz has her dad’s name (and I don’t think it would come to this, but Diane knows how she can pretty easily destroy Liz’s dad’s reputation). (Liz is great, don’t get me wrong. Liz is also someone who happened into a name partnership because her dad was important.)

“It’s bigger than that. To fight this would go against every fiber of my being,” Diane says. “Every fiber in your being is about winning,” Kurt counters. Oh, damn. That’s a succinct way of putting it. He is completely right. Diane would love to think that every fiber of her being is about her commitment to social justice and women’s rights. It is not. If that were the case, would she really be a lawyer with clients like ChumHum, Bishop, Sweeney, Rivi, and Wolfe-Colman? We all know the answer to this. We all know Diane likes social justice a lot but winning, wealth, and power far more.

When I first watched TGW, now nearly a decade ago, I was a high schooler and my media diet mostly consisted of Desperate Housewives and a bunch of procedurals like Bones and Castle. The thing that hooked me about TGW—more than Alicia’s journey, more than anything—was that TGW never had easy answers to anything. Will tells Diane in 1x07 that “nothing here is pure and nothing here is simple” and that basically blew my mind. TGW always made it obvious that Will was morally gray, which fascinated me. But I struggled with Diane. Here was this woman who looked like she should be someone so impressive and inspirational I could write a college admissions essay about her (I did not, but that was my frame of reference at the time)… but the decisions she made... never seemed all that great?? I couldn’t comprehend it.

When Blue Ribbon Panel aired in March 2012, I wrote to a friend, “Diane confused me a little bit tonight. She didn’t approve of Alicia standing up to the panel, and yet, she’s supposed to care about people, the truth, morality, etc etc. I never understand Diane’s motivations– is her philosophy to help others whenever it wouldn’t hurt her, personally, to do so?”

At that point, Diane compromising her values struck me as something confusing because I wanted to think of her as a powerful role model and icon, and I didn’t know what to do with someone who looked like and often was role model material who also sometimes betrayed her values for her own self-interest. I had my analysis of Diane down: she her motivations ARE to help others whenever it wouldn’t hurt her, personally, to do so. All I needed to do was remove my question mark from the end of that thought.

I promise I’ll move on from quoting myself, but I also want to share a paragraph I wrote about Diane in March 2014 (during season five of Wife) because it says what I want to say now as well as anything I could write today:

Diane is driven and ambitious. Her initial actions can come as the result of intense emotions, but given enough time and space, Diane will always be strategic and pragmatic when it comes to business. She’s spent her entire life putting her career first, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. That she found love is just icing. Kurt aside, the two most important things to Diane are advancing her own self-interest and doing good in the world. These objectives appear to be a contradiction, and often, they are. Nine times out of ten, when it comes down to it, she’ll choose herself. I mean no judgment here: another central aspect of Diane’s character is that she’s upfront about her choices and stands by them, and this sort of moral ambiguity makes for a great character.

The reason I quote myself here is not to be like, ha ha, I was right. It's because I think this episode is even more powerful because I can copy/paste in stuff I wrote nine years ago or seven years ago (oh god, 2014 was seven years ago?) verbatim and it can hold up as analysis. Both Fight and Wife have always implied Diane’s selfish side and given more than enough evidence to make a convincing argument about it, but they’ve never really engaged with it directly (and if you ask the social media teams for either show, Diane is a #queen who can never do wrong). This episode interrogates something that’s always been an unpleasant part of Diane’s character, and I’m so fucking glad about it.

(I don’t think anyone’s accusing Diane of not growing as a person but it crossed my mind that this could be seen as lack of growth. I don’t think it is. I wouldn’t expect Diane to change. Her life and career are so set that growth on this without a LOT of struggle on her part would feel like a cop out.)

Another reason I quote myself is to highlight how friggin’ character driven this episode is. I’ve seen a lot of people saying this episode felt like old-school TGW—and it absolutely does; that’s also how I felt—and I think that’s because it’s so character focused and meaty.

But back to this scene. Kurt tells Diane that if she doesn’t try to win she should just give up entirely. Seems like bad advice.

“Kurt, I appreciate the pep talk, but I don’t think the way you think. I cannot put my interests above a whole group of people—black people—just so I can keep my position.” Sure you can, Diane. You just don’t like to believe that about yourself. You know how Diane says to Kurt earlier that she knows the NRA will offer him the job? That is how I feel about this scene. The writers go to great lengths to explain where Diane’s head is at when she decides to fight for her partnership, but they’d have needed to do ten times more to get me to believe Diane would step aside voluntarily.

Kurt basically thinks that Diane should fight because if her competition is actually talented enough to deserve name partnership, they should fight her for it. He’s missing the point here.

“But a black person’s talent has always been valued less than mine,” Diane counters. The fact she knows and understands this makes her decision even less forgivable.

Kurt knows he’s going to lose this argument and tries the same strategy he did on 5x01: telling Diane she’s right and should just give up and leave the firm. Diane doesn’t like that answer either.

Given how much I loathed Jay’s hallucinations, I was expecting that when Diane asks Kurt in the middle of the night if he believes the election was stolen and then sits down at her fireplace to have a chat with Ruth Bader Ginsburg, I’d loathe what happened next. I did not! I actually really liked it!

I think this is more effective than Jay’s hallucinations, at least for me, because it's less gimmicky. It isn’t played for humor or quirk, and it gets to the character-driven point a LOT faster. This feels more similar to Alicia imagining Gloria Steinem is telling her she’s good enough to be on the Supreme Court in 6x03 than it does to Jay’s hallucinations.

I LOVE that Diane would dream that RBG would advise her on her work dilemma. Dream!RBG tells Diane that “any law firm would be insane to let you go.” (I don’t wanna spend too much time fighting dream logic, but I feel like the operative phrase here is ‘let you go’. Are the RL partners seeing this as letting Diane go? Or are they just trying to get at a different goal and Diane is in the way, and they don’t really care if Diane has top connections or billable hours? It’s almost like the other RL partners want a firm that stands for something and all Diane has stood for thus far at the firm is profit...)

Diane pushes back on RBG and RBG shares her “real” thoughts. This is where this sequence clicks into place for me, because it’s working on a LOT of levels. Obviously, Diane is going to imagine that her hero tells her to do exactly what she wants to do (the aforementioned mental gymnastics). But without losing the level on which this is dream!RBG and filtered through Diane’s POV, the writers are also... criticizing RBG for not stepping down herself!? It’s fascinating and pointed and makes her the exact right choice to play Diane’s conscience.

Dream!RBG shares her life story and notes how she was always asked to step aside, but she didn’t and that’s how she got to be RBG. “Don’t step aside because someone wants you to. Don’t step aside for politics. Men are always asking women to step aside so a man can go first,” RBG advises Diane. Even Diane knows that this isn’t exactly equal to her current situation-- “Even though I’m being asked to step aside so that a black person can take my place?” she counters.

So RBG asks if Diane can still do something “for women” if she says. Diane says yes, and RBG says Diane should do that instead of stepping aside—she should do whatever it takes. That’s the wrong takeaway, Diane! If you want to do something for women then a) you could do something for the black women at your firm lol or b) you could politely remove yourself from the firm, encourage your most profitable clients to stay on if they are wanted by the other partners or and/or c) you could choose to bring your talent and your stature to a non-profit. But, of course, these options aren’t on the table. There’s a reason the options are leave and lose everything or stay and fight for name partnership, and it’s that Diane cares about maintaining control of what she sees as hers and winning more than she cares about anything else, including or even especially her desire to help women.

And also what women is she even helping at RL? Herself? She’s certainly not helping Wolfe-Coleman's rape victim. The closest she’s recently come to helping women is when she told off Weinstein’s lawyer and tried to start #MeToo... in a DREAM.

The score for the next sequence sounds so familiar and I can’t place it. At first, I thought it was Hitting the Fan, but I’m not sure if that’s the right reference (also, damn, the Hitting the Fan score is REALLY GOOD!). I think it might be similar to 5x14 when Alicia’s pacing back and forth in the hotel room.

Anyway, Diane starts meeting with her (white, male) clients to tell them about how she’s stepping aside. She hasn’t run this past any of the other partners, of course. She’s doing exactly what they want, in the most malicious and calculated way possible.

One of her clients is a fracking client who wants to win over democrats by being a RL client.

Diane is so sneaky here! No one said that if Diane steps aside as partner she can’t handle the day to day on her cases... yet that’s what Diane tells this client since she knows it’ll make him mad!

Diane makes a point of showing her fracking client that his new representation will be Madeline. He doesn’t know anything about Madeline, and, as Diane was likely counting on, he isn’t confident in having a black woman he’s less “comfortable” with on his cases. I don’t know if Diane was going for the racial element here, but... if you’re really concerned about continuity, you don’t have this meeting without having Madeline ready to jump in and show she’s read up on the client. I’m sure it’s possible that Diane meant nothing in giving this client only Madeline’s name, title, gender, and race to go off of, but is that likely?

She hands another (white, male) client off to Julius, whom she describes as a “very competent lawyer.” What an introduction. She says she’s not retiring and the firm “just wants to let some other people step forward into a name partner position.” Diane knows how to sell clients on changes they won’t like. She knows this isn’t how you do it.

That phrase, “comfortable with you” is doing a lot of work, no? Both clients so far have said it, and while it might not be racially coded... it’s racially coded.

“Who should we call about it?” the clients ask. Diane can barely keep herself from smiling.

They call David Lee, immediately. He takes the call in the middle of a meeting, while someone else is talking—he is David Lee, after all.

The information on the screen in David’s meeting is quite interesting. It’s about STRL’s plans for RL. Here’s how the firm is described: “RL is a high-end mid-sized Chicago law firm that can consolidate its specialized brand within the American POC community and expand its national and global brand with STR Laure.” Soooo... yeah. For the corporate overloards, RL needs it to be just black enough that it appears like a black firm, but they care more about appearances and branding than anything of substance. (Notice how it says “POC” and not black? Notice how there’s this mention of national and global presence that doesn’t seem to be on the RL partners’ mind?)

There’s an area called room for growth, listing top clients—entertainment law, fracking, the DNC, and civil cases against CPD. Interestingly, two of these are Liz’s clients (entertainment and DNC), one is Adrian’s (civil cases against CPD), and only fracking is Diane’s... so maybe I didn’t give Liz enough credit earlier.

There’s also a plan of action that includes partners working with STRL and the 15-20% layoffs we already know about. I don’t think this text is meant to include any new info, but I assume one of the writers had a hand in writing it and it’s a good way of confirming things that had been subtext.

Wackner’s reality show looks... well, like his court, because his court always looked like a reality show. Cutting together the most out-there moments (audience reaction cards, Wackner singing “Come on defense!”, Wackner renaming himself Judge Shmuley for a day) makes Wackner look pretty bad.

Hey Liz, I thought you figured out how to silence your notifications for Dawnk permanently. (It’s not all high-stakes controversy over on the “R&L General” channel—the anon animals are now discussing a broken coffee maker.) (Though even this discussion is a bit political! Anon Owl says they bet STR’s coffee machine works, and Anon Dolphin wants to know why they don’t have more coffee maters at RL.)

There’s also a dance party—which Marissa participates in—in the footage of Wackner.

Hey, wouldn’t Marissa have reported the cameras to Diane and Liz? I feel like she’d know they’d want to know.

Wackner ends up on the stand to offer context for the strange-looking clips. In a smart move, Liz offers to just let Judge Farley ask questions—she knows that’s what Farley is really after.

Unsurprisingly, Wackner’s context makes his outrageous practices seem much more reasonable. There’s a scoreboard to keep lawyers aware of where they’re standing so they can gauge instead of guess at Wackner’s thought process. Shmuley is to honor a recently deceased relative. The costumes are to prevent bias and cut down entitlement.

Plaintiff’s counsel argues that Wackner is biased and the case continues even though Wackner’s (mostly) won over Farley.

The case next turns to something about copyright law that sounds downright silly—the point is to underline that Wackner’s court makes more sense than real court on some things. It makes more common sense and it’s less racist.

Del gets called into court. It’s interesting how these scenes are blocked together rather than spread out. The same is true of Diane’s scenes—after credits, we have Diane and Liz at the bar, Diane at home, Diane talking to RBG, Diane making moves, and then David Lee becoming aware of the situation. Then we have several consecutive court scenes (all of which feel like they have natural break points) of Wackner stuff. If I had to guess, I would guess that it’s to keep the momentum going. The Diane stuff plays better when it feels like a continuous chain rather than a subplot.

(The only thing that suffers is that I have no idea why there’s a court scene about copyright law right after the plaintiff argues they have evidence about Wackner’s bias? I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if the scenes had been spread out more.)

Now Cord’s involvement with Wackner’s court becomes an issue. It’s funny they need a witness to bring up Cord when Cord is SITTING IN THE COURT ROOM.

Apparently Cord is financing a company that would compete with the plaintiff’s company and this means Wackner is biased. As the next scene will explain, Cord wasn’t even aware of his investment in the rival company, and Wackner certainly wasn’t. But, regardless, it’s going to be challenging to prove that neither Wackner nor Cord knew about the investment, and the opposition is going to go after Cord’s financial records, which no one wants. Liz suggests a continuance, which would give Wackner about a year to keep working on his court before they have to come back to this issue.

Wackner HATES the idea of delays and is all, THIS IS WHY I HAVE MY OWN COURT and again, he isn’t wrong.

David Lee needs to see Liz, now. Liz and Diane meet in David Lee’s office and stare at their phones. Diane says she has no idea what the meeting is about, even though she basically set up the meeting herself.

“What the fuck is going on?” David Lee says. Diane feigns surprise and asks for more specifics. David Lee reveals that four top clients have called with issues about their representation shifting.

Liz knows what’s going on and aggressively says, “Diane, thoughts?” “Nothing from me. I met with my clients. I just told them of a restructuring that I was being told about,” Diane says like it’s no big deal. Liz and Diane both know that Diane forced this meeting.

“Is this a power play on your part?” Liz asks Diane. “No, it’s just updating my clients,” Diane says for David Lee’s benefit or commitment to the bit or something. It is definitely a power play, and a nearly unforgivable one done to an ally.

“David, Diane was told about frustration at the partner level about a white woman being a name partner in a black firm. And apparently, this is her response,” Liz explains. “I just told our clients what was going on,” Diane defends. David Lee doesn’t really care about what happened: he cares about one thing, and that thing is money.

“Diane’s a fucking name partner until STR Laurie says she’s not. No one decides until I decide. Now stick your race war back in its bottle,” David Lee says. I mean, basically, yeah, that’s what happens when you merge with a huge firm that only cares about profit.

I like that this ends up coming back to STRL. You can’t really have a conversation about RL’s identity without also acknowledging that RL is not independently owned. Sure, STRL will care at some point if RL loses its clout with the black community—but like most companies, they care about guaranteed loss of profit and the short term more than long-term what-ifs. It may sound cynical, but if Madeline and all of the other partners quit, STRL would simply put all their effort into keeping Liz or even just the Reddick name and would then hire black lawyers who think more like Julius than Madeline to keep the reputation. STRL does not give a shit about helping anyone, and that’s what Diane counts on.

I do not believe the version of RL that Madeline wants can exist when they’re under STRL’s control. I believe the version Diane wants (not really a black firm) can, and I believe the version Liz seems to want (one that’s mostly black and occasionally social justice focused) can, but this issue won’t go away until STRL does.

Sure, Diane, keep telling yourself you’re fighting the good fight out here.

(Perhaps “The Good Fight” is a more ironic and fraught title than it originally seemed.)

“That was a mistake. I am on your side, and you don’t even realize it,” Liz tells Diane afterwards. Interesting that Liz says “I am” and not “I was.” I would love to know what Liz really thinks about this situation and hope we get more from her POV next week. I think Liz wants to run a black firm, but I also think she wants to run a successful firm and likes working with Diane. Liz is on Diane’s side about as much as she can be while still advocating for Diane to step down.

Pissing off Liz is a very interesting move for Diane here, too. Diane wants to fight the one person who is on her side for control of a firm that doesn’t want her there, and she’s convinced herself this is the smart move! Kind of wild. What does Diane think the day to day will look like? I think I said this above, but in forcing this war, Diane is all but guaranteeing that if she wins, RL will only be a black firm in that STRL will say it’s one to make more money.

Julius and Diane chat next. Julius says he wants to start his own firm—with Diane. Her only reaction is laughter, but, like, this is probably happening. I’m not sure why she laughs. It’s not quite a case of unfortunate timing (Diane could’ve done this before she blew things up, and it’s not quite too late for Diane to commit to leaving and smooth things over with Liz), so maybe it’s just a “well, this sounds familiar!” laugh.

(If you think of Previously On as 5x00 instead of 5x01, that would make this episode 5x05, which would make this a Hitting the Fan callback. I can also do mental gymnastics!)

The episode could end there, but it doesn’t. We’ve still got a Wackner plot to resolve. Cord has some people beat up the plaintiff as a way of enforcing Wackner’s verdict and getting the real court case to go away. Marissa picks up on what’s happened faster than Wackner does, unless Wackner just doesn’t care.

It’s subtle, but throughout this episode, there’s a little bit of a trend towards Marissa becoming more skeptical of Wackner. She tries to keep him under control in court, tries to reason with him about the continuance, and in this scene, she just looks entirely displeased and alarmed every time she’s on camera.

We get another scene with RBG. “It’s different for me than it was for you,” Diane says. She notes that unlike RBG, she herself is up against another “dominated culture.” This other dominated culture is “black lawyers.” (I’m sorry, I just find the way she says “black lawyers” funny, partially because she says “lawyers” instead of people and partially because Diane seems insistent on only occasionally remembering that Liz is both black and female.)

I can’t tell if this scene was originally intended to close the episode or not. The blocks of scenes, the way the episode seems like it should’ve ended with Julius’s laugh but instead has three more scenes (guy getting beat up, Wackner’s court, this one), and the fact the Kings said this episode had to be almost totally rethought because both Christine and Audra had concerns about the original script all suggest to me that maybe some of the scenes in this episode got shuffled around to keep momentum and hit the right notes at the right time.

Diane acknowledges that RBG could’ve stepped down and we wouldn’t have a conservative majority on the court now if she had. RBG insists that she wouldn’t have stepped aside even if Obama had guaranteed that her replacement would be black. She says it’s because she only knows what she can do—not what others would do. And “what you know is always better than what might happen.”

Even if this was originally supposed to happen earlier (Diane saying she doesn’t know what to do makes me feel like it way), I like that we get to see it’s still weighing on Diane after the fact.

(Also, I have seen some comments about, for lack of a better phrase, the girl power energy of these Diane and RBG scenes. No! These scenes aren’t a tribute to RBG! She’s in these scenes because she didn’t step down and can thus help Diane excuse her own actions! These scenes aren’t exactly anti-RBG, but they are certainly critical of some of her choices!)

The topic shifts to Diane and Kurt’s relationship (another reason to put this somewhere other than the main part of the episode; this would slow down the momentum of the middle part of the episode) and its similarity to RBG’s friendship with Scalia.

Tbh, I don’t think a friendship and a marriage are all that similar on this front and I’d be curious to see Diane think about RBG/Scalia in the context of her potential partnership with Julius rather than her marriage.

RBG basically tells Diane to stay with Kurt. Diane thanks her, and then, back in reality, tells Kurt to take the NRA job so he’ll be happy—and then she’ll just sue him. Okay, that feels like an episode ending, so I am REALLY curious about all the re-writing and re-structuring that happened in this episode and what did/didn’t get touched. I can’t make up my mind about what feels out of place.

So we start out with Diane feeling like it might be the right thing to explore whether or not it still makes sense for her to be with Kurt, a suspected insurrectionist and future NRA employee, and Diane feeling like she wants to help her friends and partners at her mostly black firm do good in the world. And we end with Diane doubling down on her relationship with Kurt, giving her blessing for the NRA job, and fucking over her colleagues because she wants to keep her own power. Dark! I love it.

This episode does this all without making Diane entirely unsympathetic, which is astounding. While I think Diane knowingly makes choices that further her self-interest over the values she (claims to?) hold and I am definitely NOT Team Diane on her decisions in this episode, this episode could easily have been less interesting and complex. It’s understandable that Diane would not want to step aside from a firm she’s helped build—who would? It’s understandable that Diane might not feel the passion for a black firm the way she does for a female firm. It’s understandable that Diane might not want to blow up her marriage, despite her political differences from Kurt. This episode allows Diane to be just sympathetic enough she never becomes a flat villain, but never sympathetic enough that someone could mistake this episode for one that shows Diane as a morally pure hero. Personally, I love that in a TV show. That’s the exact kind of writing that made me love Alicia Florrick enough that I still spend a considerable amount of time thinking about her character arc even though TGW ended half a decade ago. It’s what’s been missing from a lot of TGF episodes for me, and why I’ve said that TGF seems like a show more about theme than character. It’s why I’ve written—oh god, TEN THOUSAND words—about this episode.

I have no clue what’s going to happen next, but I hope it includes more character-driven drama (ideally with a lot of good material for Liz) and not a lot of firm-jumping shenanigans.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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jawllines · 4 years

Note

Reminder to post werewolf 🤠

YOU ARE SO RIGHT!! HERE IS A WEREWOLF HARRY CHECK-IN CUTIE POTS

“You’re just a needy little pup, aren’t you?”

It was chilly out; October brought in a wind that kissed goosebumps onto her skin when she made her trek through to the woods after class. There weren’t many animals scurrying around in the colder months apart from a squirrel or two she might see, and there are seldom other humans roaming around out here considering there was no trail (and everyone, apparently, had always been put off by the woods here. . .something felt off to them, and Y/N knew exactly what it was). Nights came quicker, so if Y/N wanted to make it to the grounds before the moon rose and cast thin streams of light through the thick branches, she needed to leave just as soon as she’s gotten out of class (and she knew that Niall would come to get her if it really got too dark, but she still felt too guilty to make him come all the way for her, so she rarely asked him to).

And there was just something about the cold air, that made Harry the snuggliest little thing. Y/N doesn’t know if it’s because this is around the time they found one another and bonded two years ago, or if werewolves are warmblooded and prefer balmy summers as opposed to the glacial temperatures that they may be shown here. She’d never thought to ask because she didn’t necessarily need a reason for it. How cuddly Harry gets is nice, and how most days -- if time permitted it -- he would just saddle up beside her and they would warm one another. There are times that he suggests eating lunch outside when it’s fairly cold and Y/N thinks it’s only his elaborate ploy to have her cuddled against him. She thinks that part of him secretly likes when she’s cold because it means she seeks him out for warmth and Harry’s always up for warming her up.

(Once, while Harry was busy and Y/N had entered the grounds with Grandpa after a particularly snowy, frigid day, Niall was who she had gone to, to warm her -- he put his arm around her and sat her by the fire in one of the sitting rooms they had. They had been speaking idly about a new movie they were both interested in seeing when the door had just about been thrown from its hinges and Harry appeared, pouting, “Okay, thank you, Niall, I will warm her now.” Was his pleasant but rushed way of putting it, as he’d dropped to his knees, his brown curls flopped in his face before he flattened his stomach to the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist, dipping his nose into her tummy. Y/N and Niall both shared a chuckle as her fingers found his hair and carded through it gently, as Niall scooted over so Harry could curl his body inward while they continued speaking about the movie.)

Niall had once told her that Harry had never been this cozy with anyone before, even his first mate. The others would fill Niall in on bits and pieces that he had missed out on since he joined them a bit late, so they had told him how a few had always been skeptical on whether or not he and his prior mate were truly meant to be. When a werewolf mates and bonds with another, it is more than normal for them to be all over each other all the time, and not particularly in a sexual sense. They thrive off touch. . .off being with their person, and on their person, and cuddled, snuggled cozily with their person. Sure, he had been cuddly with his mate prior but nowhere near the amount that anyone had expected from him, especially considering how he was when he was younger, clinging to the people that he held precious to him. He would have his arm around her, give her kisses, but the PDA was often lacking.

With Y/N though, she’s sure if Harry could be a second skin to hers then he would be. Every moment of every minute that it was appropriate, Harry was wrapped around her, or had her wrapped around him; this is when he was most content. This is when Niall would ask for things (like for Harry to branch out and order them more TVs, specifically one for his room) and receive prompt results, or this might be when the pups are most willing to come and parade around his room even though they really aren’t meant to. He was in such a pleasant mood if he was in any way interlaced with her body.

She had only just recently convinced Harry not to usher Grandpa to the foot of the bed if Y/N was holding onto him in her sleep.

So she’s more than use to his cuddles, and she’s more than used to his pup like behavior, though he was particularly clingy today. It had been three days since she’d seen him last because she always made sure to distance herself some when she would be studying for an exam. Sometimes she let Harry come by her flat to help her go through flashcards, but he could be awfully distracting when he wanted to be and was still confused why she would continue working and going to school when she could simply live on the grounds with him and everything would be taken care of. Each answer to the flashcard was accompanied by an array of kisses peppered to her face, whether right or wrong, which just turned into a deepened kiss to the mouth, and more times than not, they would end up in her bed.

Which is why she took a few days to prepare for the exam and satiated him with video calls as she was getting ready for bed, where he pouted and whined about how he missed her but commended her for doing well in her studies. Though he did make her swear that she would give him extra amounts of attention when she saw him -- they pinky swore, which she had taught him how to do.

(She also knows that Niall had told him Y/N would spoil him in cuddles when he was pouty because Niall had gone out to see her so he could bring her a hot chocolate and pumpkin muffins, but he wouldn’t let Harry come as well.)

The unconditional love is something she revels in -- to have someone still so wholly love her as much as she loves them, had never been something Y/N was very privy to. It’s why she’s just as excited as Harry is after she’s finished her exam, and why her heart nearly jumps from her chest when she walks out of her lecture and Harry had greeted her outside with her favorite pastry from the cafe on campus. Y/N throws her arms around his neck and hugs him close, and Harry spins her around as theatrically as he could like it’d been months since they saw each other last. He peppers kisses upon kisses all over her cold cheeks, “I missed you, Darling,” he murmured, one of his kisses placed over her eye, “How did your test go? Was it well?”

“Yeah, I feel pretty good about it,” she smiles at him, “I’m glad you came to get me! I can show you the spot where the autumn flowers are growing now.”

Harry allowed her this little joy, despite how uncomfortable he sometimes felt around other humans. The tensions have eased the longer that he’s been with her, but Y/N can see how he squints his eyes and becomes the utmost disgruntled if anyone approaches them. He isn’t as short as he once was though and works to be much less domineering, but he still attempts to carry an air around him that suggests those who do decide to approach them have a good reason for it.

He muses with her about the flowers, even takes a picture with her in front of them with their cheeks smashed together. His face is rosy from the cold, which only spurs her to kiss his cheeks and the tip of his nose before she murmurs, “C’mon, let’s get you home and warmed up, hm?”

“You’re going to spoil me with cuddles, right? This was promised to me so that I leave you to your studies.”

“Yes, I’m going to spoil you rotten.”

Once they made it to the grounds, Harry surprised her with a picnic basket and an accompanied gingham blanket -- it was always a touch warmer within their little bubble than it was in the outside world, so it wasn’t too cold to have one. Especially with the sun beating down from the sky, the rays give kisses of warmth that make it bearable, and he packs an extra blanket for her, he tells her, so that if she gets cold he could swaddle her.

“Like a baby?”

“No, human babies frighten me, they scream. You do not frighten me.”

He sets it up for them, fanning out the first blanket which was large enough to have quite a few people sit on it. After he lowered to his knees, he placed the basket in the center and began to unearth what he’d packed for lunch. He makes sure to let her know that the chef let him run amuck in the kitchen to prepare it himself, with minimal help from the kitchen staff. Honey turkey wraps, warm loaves of freshly baked bread with strawberry marmalade to slather on each slice, pita chips with hummus (he had help making that, he admitted), the juiciest looking grapes and strawberries she thinks she’s ever seen, and three slices of blackberry ginger pie (he brought the third in case she wanted seconds).

It all looked delicious, and he made sure to set it out in a way aesthetically pleasing to the eye, “This way you can share pretty pictures as you do online. Make sure to add that I am the best mate in the world and I treat you so well.”

They ate until they were stuffed full, Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever been so completely and entirely pleased and full with a meal in her life. Both she and Harry lean into one another, but at the first sign of a shiver he is wrapping the second blanket around her and cuddling her close to his side, “Did you like it?” He asked her and Y/N sighed happily, nosing her way into his chest

“I loved it. Thank you so much, Puppy.”

All of it had started out so innocently; the way she caressed his skin, how he told her about his day, how they cuddled into each other closer. Maybe it was Y/N’s fault -- it probably was, actually, because she loved Harry’s full tummy even more than she loved being full herself. He was softer, more receptive to her touch if she lulled soft circles on his stomach with her palm and if she were lucky, he would fall asleep by it. Not that she didn’t want to spend time with him, but she loved the soft cooed snores that leave his mouth, and how peaceful he looks as he swims in whatever dream he’d found his footing in.

The innocence behind these rubs was recognized, but his prick had begun a noticeable bulge in his trousers that he appeared keen on ignoring. How they were arranged, Y/N had her legs open enough for him to fit comfortably between them with his head resting on her thigh. She skated soft caresses at first just over his shirt, but then to his bare skin once his shirt began to crinkle up and show the soft terrain beneath it. No matter how clearly his cock was hard, his eyes had fluttered shut and he hadn’t uttered a peep about it.

But Y/N was curious as she always is to get beneath his belt. No matter the number of times she’d seen it, she could never stifle the want to withdraw the zip of his trousers and reveal it to herself again. That’s why each little design she drew into his skin had gotten lower and lower, closer to the waistband of his pants until she was practically skimming the tips of her fingers just beneath it. Goosebumps riddle up in her wake and Harry shuffles slightly, his eyes fluttered like butterfly wings before he looked up at her, “I am sorry,” he murmured, his cheeks still a little rosy from the cold air, “I was trying very hard not to become aroused, but it proves to be difficult when you’re touching all over me, and you smell so good. . .and it’s been. . .it’s been so long, I --” he hisses in a breath when she dances her fingers lightly across the bump, “Oh, Darling.”

“You’re just a needy little pup, aren’t you?” Y/N teases him, letting her delicate touches move back toward his belly, “You want cuddles and kisses and for me to play with your cock, hm?”

Harry shudders, somehow wriggling even closer to her than he already managed to be, “I want everything,” he murmurs, “I just want you in any way I’m allowed.”

It was always interesting, seeing the big, bad alpha turn to putty in her palms. She never took it for granted, nor did she take advantage of him in this state. No, Y/N took extra good care of him and made sure he was happy and his desires satiated, just as he would do for her in whatever needy state she might find herself within. That’s why she’s so quick to carefully unbuckle the belt of his pants, the metal pieces clinking together as she pulls the straps undone. Once the pressure is relieved from around his waist, a soft little moan leaves his pink lip and it sends sparkles pirouetting through her body.

The button of his jeans is easy enough to slip from the buttonhole, and as she pulls the zip down and over his bulge, Harry holds onto her tighter. Y/N is just enamored with the blissed-out face he already holds before she had a chance to do much of anything -- she’s only releasing him from the confines of his trousers, and he looks like he could cum in mere seconds. His stamina was always impeccable, and if he really wanted to get hard multiple times in a night he could, which always made it a bit more fun. It also meant that if she wanted him to cum quickly, then the night wasn’t over, and that was just delightful.

And sometimes she wanted him to cum quickly. Sometimes she wanted to know that she just made him feel so good, he was so desperate that it was hard to stave off. It always brought a smile to her mouth, if they’d only been going at it a little while -- if she had him in her mouth or in her hand, and he moaned his warning of, “I’ll cum if we continue like this, Sweetheart, you’re going to make me cum so soon,” If anything, she never stopped -- she only doubled her efforts in order to make him burst.

“Budge up a bit,” she orders tentatively, and he raises his hips, helping her wiggle them down just a bit. They were far enough away from the grounds that nobody would disturb them, and Harry’s nose could spot someone’s scent from meters and meters away, so she felt no worry when his prick was uncovered. Stiff as glass, his tip ruddy and leaking down the side of the head, like it might be weeping for her attention. Y/N holds her palm out in front of his hand, “Get it wet.”

Harry flattens his tongue and licks fat stripes up her palm, slicking it with spit, pulling her fingers into his mouth salaciously sucking until she pushed the pad of her thumb to his chin and slid her fingers away from him, “Christ,” she murmured, giggling as she lowered her hand back to his cock, “You’re so good at that.”

He opens his mouth to respond but whatever he plans to say is lost around a moan -- low, guttural, and drawn as his knees bend; her fingers looped delicately around his prick and she squeezed gently. The weight of him in her hand always made glitter dance in her lower belly, stoking the flames of a fire that left her panties drenched through. And she knew he knew, by the way, his bottom lip is hidden between his teeth as she slipped her hands up and down the length of him. Her palm slides easily, with little friction as it glides against the smooth skin. He moans again, this time much louder as she focuses her hand in circular motions over the swollen head. It’s the kind of moan that gives her the best kind of goosebumps, that makes her pulsate and flush with heat all over.

But she likes to tease him, so she tuts her tongue and introduces the fingers that aren’t working him over to his mouth, “Shh, you’re loud,’ she murmured, stroking against his lips until they parted and she dipped her fingers back into his mouth, “Does it feel that good? That you can’t be quiet?”

“Mhm,” he whines pitifully, nodding, looking up to her from her lap with his eyes bright and green, reflecting off the sun that they bathed beneath. He strokes his tongue along her fingers as his hips buck helplessly into her hand, but Y/N fixes her grip at the bottom of the shaft.

“You wanna do the work?” She chides him gently, “If you wanna do the work then I’ll just hold my hand still and you can fuck into it all you like.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he murmurs, “No, no, please, want you too --”

“Okay, okay,” she starts back up again, thumbing at his slit and watching as more drips down his prick -- he always leaks so much, “Sweet little thing, I’ll take care of you.”

She can feel him throb in her hand, his fingers bury in the fabric of her shirt at her sides as he continues to groan and whimper. His brows furrow as his back arches, and when Y/N does withdraw her fingers from his mouth again, she lowers it to his balls. They’re tight, swollen and full, and the sound that Harry makes -- Y/N hadn’t thought she could be anymore worked up than at that moment, but she was wrong. He was shameless when he felt good, and she couldn’t even keep up the act that she wanted him to be quiet. Not when he sounded like that. . .not when he was so incredibly desperate, and hard, and. . .”I will not last much longer,” he told her breathlessly, swallowing thickly, “I feel it -- I’m going to cum. . .I’m going to cum so hard.”

“Yeah?” She carefully kneads his balls in one palm, slipping her hand up and down his prick at a fast pace, and she can feel him stiffening in her lap, “You’re g’na make my hand a mess?”

Another whimpered moan makes her giggle, and soon after Harry throbs again in her palm, only this time it’s followed by thick ropes of cum that spurt from the tip. Some shoots up and falls against the blanket, some dribbled warm over her knuckles, and he trembles in her arms as she works him through it. He’s loud in his groans of her name, only muffled when he tilts his head against her thigh. As he comes down, his breathing bated and his cock softening in her hand, “You,” he began, huffing a breath, “You are too good to me.”

“Did I spoil you well enough?”

Harry takes one of the napkins that he had packed and holds her hand delicately in his own, cleaning her of his cum first and then takes care of his own mess, “I’ve been thoroughly spoiled, but I do wish for you to cuddle me quite a bit more.”

Y/N laughs brightly, shaking her head before bending down and he meets her by raising his forehead the rest of the way so her lips could meet his skin.

“Of course, Puppy.”

#blurb #or #BLURBS #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #Anonymous

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