#have any of these people seen a real strawberry

[maniacalshen]

This is 90% of Facebook now. Your relatives are getting absolutely brain-cooked by it.

We've all been taken in by a convincing AI image with a quick glance, and we all know it's getting harder to spot the fakes, but people who like and happily comment on stuff like the above really worry me.

#immoral use of ai #Facebook #have any of these people seen a real strawberry #that granny have me a jump scare BEFORE i saw her neck merge with her sweater #purse hardware #even a deformed baby wouldn't have sleeves that clip through themselves

[fooltofancy]

i don't miss living near most of my family, tbh, but i DO miss terribly the recovered meth addict uncle.

#he and my aunt are the kindest just like #they have a house (my grandpa's old house) full of kids whose parents are in the system #they always have #my aunt has a cleaning business thay almost exclusively employs folk recovering from addiction or domestic violence or any number of other #things #for which montana just does not provide the resources to deal with #this woman has brittle bone disease and is never not broken in like four different places but you can NOT keep her stationary #she is doing things and she is doing them because she's too fucking full of love to stay still #my dad is also very full of compassion so like it does happen in that family but where for him religion has closed him off from the world #god just means love for my aunt and uncle. #unconditionally #i grew up in the church and ive NEVER seen christianity like that #like for the record i still think theyre wrong lmao and the system they work in is harmful #idk theyre the only people ive ever known who actually prioritize folks' needs over their salvation #and that's really important #it's real missing the members of my family ive more or less lost because i had to fuckin run from the rest of them hours #he's the first person i told abt the tattoo im gonna get for my grandma someday #i have almost no memories of her where she wasn't just wreathed in smoke #even when she said she stopped smoking she never did lmao she was just. an absolute chimney of a woman #anyway she collected v kitsch strawberry things so im gonna get a kinda kitschy botanical halfsleeve at some point thats just #strawberry plants woven through with stylized cigarette smoke #anyway i was like this is probably irreverent af and some family members will NOT like it and he like LAUGHED and grabbed my arm #just like losing his shit #NO YOU HAVE TO

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language; s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)

Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.

Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.

So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.

He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students. 

In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.

It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.

There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.

The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"

"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"

"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.

"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.

Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."

"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.

Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...

Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.

"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."

"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"

Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"

"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"

"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."

Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"

"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."

Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"

"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."

Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."

#haruno writes; #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #reader insert #fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[cleoluvrr]

strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)

got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.

your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there. 

one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so. 

it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.

the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.

you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.

your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics. 

the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.

begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.

ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.

it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ‘best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.

rafe, however, not so much. 

“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend. 

“yeah?”

“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”

you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and  even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.

the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance. 

“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”

topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.

when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable. 

that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.

the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together. 

the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.

rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there. 

it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself. 

you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.

when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.

“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.

“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”

“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.” 

a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.

it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.

rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s. 

“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?” 

you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.

what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.

there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection. 

you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.

that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire. 

the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.

“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”

shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation. 

you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.

the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s. 

out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.

this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.

you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below. 

the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.

“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.

“who?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.

“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence. 

“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips. 

“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”

you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.

“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”

rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.

you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart. 

“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”

the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.

pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.

maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him. 

in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.

it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.

you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.

“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin. 

if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.

rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.

“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”

“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?” 

“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.

rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.

“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.

“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”

he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.

startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you. 

“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.

“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”

the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.

“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”

it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.

this was not that.

“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”

you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.

“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”

he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.

the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.

a chill ran down your spine.

“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”

“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”

the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you. 

both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.

you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy. 

“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”

he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.

“you look so pretty in pink.”

a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.

he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.

“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.

“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”

“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.” 

if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong. 

he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass. 

you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.

the humiliation would kill you.

instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.

you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.

“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”

the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.

your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.

he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.

“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “

“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”

rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.

you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.

the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer. 

it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.

“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”

the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time. 

he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.

you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.

the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.

“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.

“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”

it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.

a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.

“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.” 

you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.

“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.

the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.

“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”

“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”

he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.

“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”

you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you. 

he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips. 

“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”

you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers. 

“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”

he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs. 

you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted. 

“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”

a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.

“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”

you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.

it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.

“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”

“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused. 

“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”

you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.

his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer. 

“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“

he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you. 

what was wrong with you?

you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.

“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”

you were.

“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.

he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.

the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.

he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.

“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”

your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you. 

“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”

you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to. 

“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”

you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.

“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”

it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.

“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.” 

you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.

“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.

he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse. 

he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.

you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open. 

your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.

everything was so wet.

“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”

a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.

“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”

he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself. 

“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.

“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.

“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”

you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath. 

rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched. 

“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”

“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction. 

reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.

you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away. 

“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”

he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity. 

the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up. 

your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.

“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”

you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.

“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’” 

you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.

“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.

“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.

“no! no, i really mean it!”

his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more. 

“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.” 

“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”

happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.

“you’re welcome.”

you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length. 

you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.

how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?

feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.

shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.

the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.

before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.

“and stay the fuck out of my room."

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #drew starkey #rafe imagine #obx fic #outer banks x reader #obx3 #cleoluvrr fics

[steveshairychest]

Time travel au where Steve is the last one to go through the gate in Eddie's trailer, except when he comes out, he's not in his Hawkins anymore. Instead of being greeted by the sight of his friends safe and sound and Wayne's mug collection, he's standing in some random guys trailer.

He gets shoved out the front door and into the strange new world that is undoubtedly Hawkins, but not the Hawkins he remembers.

Everything feels wrong. The people look strange in their weird clothes and a lady across the park screams into a flat rectangle in her hand. The trailers look the same but there's something about them that's definitely wrong. Some guy blows smoke in his face while walking past and instead of the gross smell of cigarette he was expecting, it smells sweet, almost like strawberries. He's so fucking confused. He knows he's causing a scene by walking around gaping at everything, but what else is he supposed to do? Steal a car and drive off? He's never seen cars like this in his entire life!! Do they even work the same way?!

Maybe he has a concussion. Maybe this is his version of a vecna hallucination.

And then things only get more confusing when a little girl runs over to him and beams up at Steve like they've been best friends forever. "Hi, Mr Harrington! Why are you here?" She can't be older than 9.

Why does this little girl know him? He stares at her and his confusion must show because she tilts her head and frowns. "Are you okay, Mr Harrington?"

She keeps calling him Mr Harrington, is he a teacher here? Oh god, does that mean there's another version of himself running around here?! Wherever here is.

"I'm... fine. I'm just a little lost." He walks away before he scares the poor girl with his rising hysterics. Steve knows these roads like the back of his hand, he's driven them his entire life, but he takes a million wrong turns because there's suddenly so many new streets he's never even heard of. Where there should be a huge clearing, there is now a building so high Steve swears it touches the sky and the tree him and Robin used to have picnics under is now gone and replaced with a parking lot filled with more weird cars.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?!" Steve finally makes it to where his house should be and there's... nothing. It's just a block of land for sale. It tips him over the edge. He can't remember the last time he cried but right now he is balling and hiccuping as he stumbled down the street he grew up on. But it's wrong. It's all so wrong. People drive past and give him weird looks, a lady even stops jogging and takes out the tiny earplugs that play music so loud Steve can hear it, and asks if he's OK. "No, I'm not. This isn't real. This isn't real!"

It has to be vecna. He's got him. That's why he's stuck in this nightmare. "You have to play music! Give me your plug things! Make them play anything! Get me out of here." The woman refuses and does nothing but stand there in shock as Steve sinks down to the sidewalk and starts singing Everybody Wants to Rule The World as loud as he can.

"I'm calling 911. You need help." Steve doesn't hear her. He's singing so loud people are starting to come out of their houses to see what's going on but that doesn't matter to him. This isn't real. Vecna has him and he needs to get out.

When the ambulance pulls up, Steve's run out of tears. He's cried himself dry and he's resigned to the fact that any minute now, Vecna is going to snap his arms and legs. "I'm ready." He says quietly to no one but himself. He'd rather it be him than any of his friends. He knows they are probably watching him and trying to bring him back but it's too late. He can't hear the music they're playing.

"Steve?" A familiar voice drags him out of his own head, but it can't be real. He heard that voice take its final breath just mere minutes ago, he can still feel his drying blood under his fingernails. Steve lifts his head and there he is, it's Eddie, no doubt about it. His long hair is tied up in a bun and his eyes are sparkling with worry as he crouches down in front of Steve. It's then that Steve realises Eddie is in full paramedic gear and he's pulling all sorts of things out of a bag to check on Steve.

"Eddie, you're alive." He whispers in disbelief as Eddie checks him for any head injuries. "Where are we? How do we leave?"

Eddie pulls back and there's panic behind his eyes as he slowly helps Steve to his feet and gestures to his partner to grab the stretcher. "Steve, love, I need you to tell me what happened. Why aren't you at work?"

At work? What is Eddie going on about? And did he just call Steve love?!!

"Eddie, this isn't real. I need to leave. I can't stay here with you." He says it slowly so that Eddie understands. He may be some figment of Steve's weird dream imagination and he doesn't want to freak the poor guy out by telling him he's actually dead.

Eddie breathes in and out, his hands a little shaky as he helps Steve onto the ambulance stretcher. His partner helps get Steve set up in the back of the ambulance before they're driving off. Eddie reaches out and holds Steve's hand gently, the gesture surprising but not unwelcome. "Steve, baby, this is very much real life. You're in Hawkins. It's March 21st, 2023. Your name is Steve Harrington, remember?"

"Wait, what?!" Steve tries to sit up but Eddie gently pushes him back down. They hit a bump in the road and Eddie swears softly under his breath about his partner's driving. "It's not 1986?!" He's panicking. He can feel his heart rate spike and his breathing starts to quicken. Eddie tells him to stay calm and just breathe in and out but Steve can't hear him.

Maybe this really isn't Vecna. He'd be dead by now if Vecna had him and Eddie's touch feels too real to be a dream.

Before he knows it, his vision is going spotty and then he's out; the panic and absolute absurdity of it all finally getting to him.

"You'll be okay, Stevie."

Except this isn't the Steve Eddie knows and loves. His Steve, his darling husband, is currently having a dilemma of his own back in 1986.

#HELLO MY SWEET DEAR LOVELY PEOPLE !! #I HAVENT PROOF READ THIS #ENJOY #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #stranger things s4 #steveddie

[innuendostudios]

new video about Edgar Wright's Cornetto Trilogy, and how everyone* keeps getting them wrong! this video is sponsored by Nebula, a place where you can watch the original version of this video before I had to tweak it for YouTube's copyright bots. (by clicking that link, you can get an annual subscription for 40% off.) or you can just back me on Patreon, which is also cool and good.

transcript below the cut.

I adore Edgar Wright’s Cornetto Trilogy. I flirted with making a video about it ages ago, had a draft of a script, but ultimately decided it wasn’t about anything except “here’s a thing I like, and here are its (I thought) very obvious themes.” So I shelved it. But, in the years since, I have seen multiple video essayists on this here website claim that these movies are about growing up and taking responsibility. (I say “multiple.” It’s not a lot. But it’s more than one! And that’s enough.)

These people are 100% wrong.

Lemme lay it out: the Cornetto Trilogy is not about growing up. It is not about taking responsibility. It is the exact opposite, and that’s not subtext. It is three movies about stunted manchildren thrust into extraordinary circumstances, and each, in the end, is saved - is redeemed - by abandoning his character arc and failing to grow or change. It is a three-part love letter to immaturity.

And I guess I have to set the record straight.

Sometimes making a video about a thing you love is an act of appreciation. And sometimes it’s out of spite.

The Cornetto Trilogy is three movies: Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End. All three are written by Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright; Pegg stars, and Wright directs; all three center on a relationship between Pegg and real-life best friend Nick Frost, which makes each film a reunion of the core team behind Spaced (excepting, but for a small role in Shaun of the Dead, Jessica Hynes). The three films span three genres: zombie apocalypse, buddy cop, alien invasion; each features a Cornetto ice cream cone: strawberry to represent blood, original blue to represent the police, and mint to represent little green men; this is a joking nod to Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Trois Couleur films, Bleu, Blanc, and Rouge, which were based on the colors and themes of the French flag (I don’t care what you say, Emily: #TeamRouge); that nod is funny because Trois Couleur is high-art drama and these are comedies. All three are parodies of, tributes to, and actually surprisingly good executions of their respective genres. And the hook, the gag at the center of all these movies, is that Simon Pegg plays a character wholly unsuited to be starring in this kind of film.

Shaun, the burnout, is the wrong person to survive the zombie apocalypse; by-the-book British bobby Nicholas is the wrong person to lead an American-style bombastic actioner; and alcoholic asshole Gary is the last person to save the world from aliens.

And I think that’s where people get stuck. Because “schlub finds himself protagonist of a genre film” is the elevator pitch for like a dozen Adam Sandler movies. The genre trappings may be as mundane as parenthood or mandated anger management classes, or as high-concept as action movie, whodunnit, or time travel It’s a Wonderful Life if Clarence were Christopher Walken as the angel of death (that… that makes it sound good, it’s not, don’t see Click; leave Frank Capra alone, Adam). But all these movies have the same basic shape: an extraordinary situation forces a guy to confront his shortcomings, which always stem from having never grown up. And you probably haven’t seen all of these movies, but if you’ve seen any, I bet you have assumptions about how the rest end: even though “Adam Sandler acts like a child” is generally the selling point of an Adam Sandler movie, they all end with some lip service toward becoming an adult: hey man, grow up a bit; appreciate your family a little more; square your shoulders; clean your room. This is so standard, it was parodied mercilessly in Funny People.

And this was a formative microgenre for my generation! Whole universe turns itself upside down to teach some shitty dude to, like, do the dishes and pay his wife a compliment now and then - Liar Liar, Bruce and Evan Almighty (all directed by the same guy, by the way). So I don’t blame people of a certain age for seeing the first act of Shaun of the Dead and thinking “I know where this is going.” And when, at the last minute, it swerves and goes someplace else, you could read that as a gag, a final subversion of expectation, still the same basic shape. But no! No! Once is a gag - thrice??? Thrice is a thematic statement!

So lemme make my case. I’ma take you through these movies one by one - we’ll talk about the manchildren and the expectations set by the genre, and then we’ll talk about that last-minute swerve and what it means. And then you’ll tell me I’m right and apologize!

Shaun of the Dead:

Shaun is a man in his twenties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the slacker.

What is his problem? He needs to sort his life out. Shaun doesn’t know how to take action. He hasn’t advanced since college - he’s been working the kind of job a teen takes over the summer for like a decade, lives with the same best friend, has the same petty fights with his stepdad, goes to the same pub every week with the same group of people. He can’t make a reservation, he can’t manage a calendar, he’s a washup. This makes his girlfriend, Liz, feel stifled, trapped; he is a weight around her ankle, taking her on the same date week after week, keeping her from living her own dreams, having her own adventures. She gives him one last chance to prove he can sort his life out, and he blows it, and she dumps him.

And then: a zombie movie happens.

The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: to survive, and save his loved ones, he’ll have to take action, make plans, be decisive. This is a common fantasy: when you feel ground down by the mundanity of life, you might imagine, oh, if only a crisis would happen, like a zombie virus outbreak, where my normal-life problems like “am I gonna make rent,” “is my girl gonna take me back,” “is my roommate gonna kick out my stoner buddy who’s crashing on the couch” become meaningless, and it’s immediately clear what’s really important, what matters. Then I’d know exactly what to do. It’s why disaster movies work as escapism: a necromantic plague - or at least the fantasy of one - is sometime preferable to normal life.

Hot Fuzz:

Nicholas is a man in his thirties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the hall monitor.

What is his problem? He can’t switch off. He is a hypercompetant police officer with a rulebook where his brain should be. He’s so good at being a cop that he’s spotting and unraveling crimes even on his day off. He can’t maintain a relationship, has no friends, all his coworkers hate him because he keeps finishing their work for them, and his stats show up the rest of the force so badly that they scuttle him out to the country.

Now you might be thinking, “Mmm. A fastidious police officer who can’t have fun? How is that a manchild? Sounds pretty grown-up to me. You’re reaching, bud.” Ohhhh ho ho, smartass, do you remember this scene? [bar scene] Yeah! Nicholas Angel has a five-year-old’s notion of law and order. He’s still playing cops and robbers.

And that’s a problem, because then: an action movie happens.

It doesn’t happen all at once: he goes out to the country and finds they do things a bit differently there. They are (ostensibly) less concerned with rules than what than the rules are for: if the purpose of drinking laws is to keep the streets safe and orderly, and letting some people off with a warning or allowing kids drink so long as they do it inside achieves that end, the rule can be bent. That’s a judgment grown-ups can make; I mean, they’re the ones who wrote the rules in the first place. So be lenient with shoplifters, don’t hassle people for speeding; this isn’t the Big City, you can use your better judgment. But Nicholas never got past doing whatever Mom & Dad said; obedience, and trusting whoever’s up the chain, is his entire moral framework. He can’t accept that bending the law could be more righteous than following it.

But also maybe there’s a criminal conspiracy murdering people and writing it off as accidents and the police chief might be in on it. Or maybe Nicholas is so desperate for a big case with no moral ambiguity that he’s seeing things where they aren’t. 

The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: either there’s nothing going on and he needs to chill out about procedure, or the department is corrupt and he’ll have to go rogue like it’s Point Break - and this is how he experiences Point Break. [“paperwork”]

No matter what, he’ll have to bend the rules, which he constitutionally cannot do.

The World’s End:

Gary is a man in his forties. What kind of manchild is he? He’s the delinquent.

What’s his problem? Pfffft. What isn’t his problem? Gary is a manipulative, narcissistic, lying, self-destructive, ignorant, violent, thieving, shit-talking, unapologetic asshole who peaked in high school when being all those things was still kind of badass. The greatest night of his life was the drunken pub crawl after graduation he and his friends didn’t even finish, and he’s been tumbling downhill ever since. He’s spent his life ruining everyone who knows him until there’s no one left to ruin but Gary King. So now it’s time to bully the old gang into going back home with him to relive that night by finishing the pub crawl, because, in his own words, it’s all he’s got. And he and his friends have to confront how home has changed since they left - the bars have gentrified, not everyone recognizes them; the defining, epic deeds of Gary’s youth have been forgotten. You can’t actually go back because that place doesn’t exist anymore.

And then: a sci-fi movie happens.

Turns out the town’s been taken over by aliens, and all the people who couldn’t conform to their new order have been replaced with robots! That’s why no one recognizes them! And that’s why the pubs all look the same: the aliens are homogenizing everything! And it’s clear, if they can’t get Gary and his friends to play ball, they’ll roboticize them as well! The obvious move is to get the hell out of town, but Gary keeps inventing excuses to stay and finish the pub crawl, and they sound pretty sensible because the group’s already five pints in. The genre forces him to confront his shortcomings: sooner or later he’s gonna have to give up on recapturing his youth and do what’s best for him and his friends now, even if it means running back to the city where all his problems live.

So there we have it: the characters cross the threshold into an unfamiliar world where an external conflict cannot be addressed without resolving the tension within. The slacker will have to get his shit sorted, the hall monitor will have to break the rules, and the delinquent will have to do what’s good for him. And, to an extent, all three know this! The movies Wright and Pegg pay homage to exist in these stories - Shaun knows what a zombie is, Danny keeps Nicholas up watching Point Break and Bad Boys II, and Gary and friends know bodysnatcher movies so well they have philosophical debates with the robots about whether “robot” is the PC term.

So, yeah, if you turned the movies off there, I could forgive you for thinking that’s where they’re headed. But you goofballs watched them to the end and then made content about them, what is wrong with you???

What actually happens in the second halves of these movies?

Shaun twigs that he’s in a zombie movie and, at first, tries to play the part - his survival plans are miniature hero’s journeys with him as protagonist, wherein he’ll save the day by neatly confronting all his flaws. He’ll resolve parental conflict by saving his mom from his zombified stepdad, resolve romantic conflict by showing his girl he can come through when it counts, and resolve internal conflict by being a man who saves the day. And all his plans suck! It’s just the same plan he always comes up with! Dragging around the same useless liability of a bestie, collecting the same group of people, and holing up in the same pub! He doesn’t save his mom: his stepdad apologizes, resolving their conflict for him, and then survives in zombie form but Shaun’s mom gets killed; most of the friend group gets killed because the crisis does not actually suspend but in fact amplifies their personal grievances; and he doesn’t save the day, just manages not to die long enough for the military to show up.

But… well, Liz wanted adventure and now she’s had enough for a lifetime, so… she’s down to just be boring with him for a while - sit on the couch, watch TV, hit the pub. Beats running for your life. Tensions with the roommate are gone cuz roommate died, but rent is covered cuz Liz moved in. Zombies don’t get eradicated, just folded into normal life, so Shaun can mindlessly play video games with his bestie forever, and it’s not a problem that bestie doesn’t have an income cuz he doesn’t need food or shelter.

The zombie apocalypse doesn’t make Shaun sort his life out, it changes the world til he doesn’t have to.

When Nicholas discovers that, yes, there is definitely a murderous criminal conspiracy inside the police department, he recognizes the only way to bring about justice is to become what Danny has always wanted and go Dirty Harry on the town. It’s either that or just swallow the crimes. But he does neither. He and Danny go on an epic shooting spree, recreating famous movie scenes, taking out the entire criminal organization against all odds, and spouting badass one-liners… but everyone who helps them is a cop, they don’t actually kill anyone, all perps are formally arrested, and they fill out all the paperwork. I think he even properly signs out the weapons. He never switches off, never breaks a rule, does absolutely everything by the book, only… louder. And this violent showdown saves him from the chill town with lax rules he thought he’d moved to. Now he, with his five-year-old notion of right and wrong, is in charge of the police department.

The buddy cop actioner doesn’t make Nicholas bend the rules, it changes the world til he doesn’t have to.

Gary knows exactly how a movie of this sort is supposed to go and spends the whole movie running from it. Friends and secondary characters keep sharing these poignant moments with him, because they know this story, too: yeah, he’s gonna reject help at first, but sooner or later he’ll hit rock bottom and then someone will get through to him. And, as the night goes on, and the characters get drunker and drunker, and Gary passes up more and more opportunities to abandon the pub crawl and go home, these moments take a tone of desperation. They start to sound more like interventions; like, Gary, we all know you’re going to come to your senses but could you hurry up with it??? How many of your friends need to literally die for you to shape up? Are you gonna get them all killed?

And the answer is: Gary will never shape up! To Gary the Human Dril Tweet, his friends trying to save him, psychiatrists trying to treat him, and aliens trying to assimilate him are all the same thing. He doggedly makes it to the end of the pub crawl and confronts the alien overlord who tells him all the technological advancements of the past few decades - all the efficiency and homogenization that’ve changed the face of his home town - are their doing. The Information Age is an intervention on behalf of Earth, a pan-galactic effort to save humanity from itself. And the reason they’ve been replacing people with robots is some people are too fucked up to go along with it.

And here’s Gary, King of the Fuckups, brashly declaring that fucking up is what makes us human. There is no freedom without the freedom to ruin your life. We are endowed by our creator with the right to be drunken, ornery pieces of shit.

He tells the aliens to piss off and he’s so fucking annoying that they do, and they take the Information Age with them.

Now… I know… ugh… I know a lot of people love this movie, say it’s the best of the three. Some friends who’ve struggled with mental health or just being an adult under late capitalism really identify with Gary, and the valorization of being a mess. I see you, you’re not wrong, I get it, I really do. But can we just… not “but” but “also” can we… can we also admit that this ending is… this is Space Brexit.

Like, literally it’s an alien invasion but symbolically this is Gary rejecting the adult world of rules and authority and doing what’s best for the community and that’s how Brexiters view the EU. And people keep telling him “Gary, this is in your best interest” and Gary says, I don’t want my best interest! I am registered in the anti-Gary’s Face Party and I will cast my vote by cutting my nose! I choose to do what’s bad for me.

And, like a true Brexiter, he chooses for everybody.

Now tell me that’s a movie about growing up. Gary collapses human civilization in its entirety rather than change, and in the world that follows, he thrives… by being an immature, irresponsible bag of garbage.

To Wright and Pegg, growing up is death, and these are movies about being alive. These characters don’t cross the threshold back into the ordinary world with the ultimate boon of character growth; all three stay in the extraordinary world. The zombies remain, the robots remain, Nicholas is offered his London job back and chooses to stay in the country. These are stories about normal life spontaneously turning into a genre film, and they are made with deep love for those genres; why would they end with leaving those genres behind? Because it’s what Adam Sandler would do?

So there you have it. I rest my case.

“Okay Ian. Why does this matter?”

…what was that?

“You’ve made your point: these movies aren’t about growing up or taking responsibility. So what?”

Uhhhh.

“Bring it home for us.”

…

“Why do you care so much?

[breath]

I wrote the first draft of this script when I was around Shaun and Nicholas’ age, and “so what?” is why I shelved it. Now I’m Gary’s age, this video’s been in the back of my brain the whole time, but I got this far and “so what” is where I got stuck, again. This is why the CO-VIDs came out quicker, cuz I let myself end with “so that’s interesting!” and got on with my life. But there’s clearly something sticky here, more than “someone is wrong on the internet.” (Also, to the YouTubers I’m vaguebooking, who said these were movies about growing up - I’m way more annoyed at the folks I’ve argued with on Twitter about this, you just made a better rhetorical device; you do not owe me an apology!) (Also, to the commentariat: I am not extrapolating this from like two data points, this is chronic and recurring and has been bothering me for years.)

There are a few directions I could take this to give it some “cultural weight.” I could put on my social justice hat and talk about how the “crisis of adulthood” doesn’t play as broad comedy unless you look like Adam Sandler or Simon Pegg, or put on my class analysis hat and talk about how signifiers of adulthood are, traditionally, ways of spending and accruing capital which are, today, often inaccessible to people under 40.

And that’s all legit, but here’s the real deal: I’m just mad at Gary. The world changed around Shaun such that he could stay a child. And Nicholas ended up somewhere he could stay a child. If you missed that, you’re wrong, but whatever. But to say that Gary grew up grinds me, because Gary chose this. The whole movie is people telling him to grow up, and he says no! He says it out loud! He says it to the literal end of the world. To walk out of the theater and say “that’s a movie about growing up” is more than a mistake, it’s a refusal. It’s trying to “fix” the movie by fitting it into a more familiar shape, so it doesn’t say what it says, so Gary isn’t who he is, who he chooses to be.

I’m being cheeky when I say this because he’s a fictional character, but saying Gary grew up is enabling.

Gary says there’s no freedom without the freedom to ruin your life, which is the problem with alcoholics and libertarians: it’s not just your life, Gary! You live in a community, a culture, and an ecosystem! Your actions - everybody’s actions - impact other people! That’s just the way the world is! You can’t shit yourself at the bar without other people having to smell it. We’re all fuckin’ connected, man! You don’t want anyone’s will imposed on you; you spend the whole movie imposing your will on everyone else! You say humans don’t wanna be told what to do, and then you decide humanity’s future by yourself with no input or consent from anyone!

People point to Gary ordering water in the last scene instead of beer as evidence that he got sober, like that’s proof that he did grow up in the end, which are you fucking joking??? Getting sober is a shorthand for maturity the way buying a house is, it doesn’t signify anything in and of itself! Gary drank to escape the adult world of rules and responsibilities! So, yeah, under normal circumstances getting sober would mean he’s made peace with that world and is ready to integrate. But that’s not what happened! The thing he was escaping doesn’t exist anymore! He literally destroyed it!! People died! Probably millions! Now he lives a happy life LARPing as Omega Doom - no I don’t expect you to catch that reference! He doesn’t need to drink! He is literally reliving the best day of his life forever. And even if it did mean personal growth, the idea that a person could make what would be, unequivocally, the most selfish decision in human history, and then spend his life celebrating the outcome, oh but if he overcame a personal demon in the process then on balance that’s maturity? That is lightspeed solipsism! Who are you if you think that way? Are you all Adam Sandler???

And none of that makes this a bad ending, or Gary a bad character. I mean, he is the reason The World’s End is my least favorite, and I don’t like the ending, but I don’t think it’s bad that I don’t like the ending. Rather than watch another addict pull his life together or destroy himself, we watch a downward spiral with so much gravity the whole world self-destructs alongside him. And that’s why The World’s End is the most interesting of the three: it is a bold choice, and I think we are free to feel however we want about the conclusion Gary engineered for himself. I don’t think it’s valid to pretend it didn’t happen.

In the context of the trilogy, we see that Shaun’s immaturity is mostly a problem for Shaun: he would be, at worst, a footnote in the lives of the people who love him; “yeah, I liked Shaun a lot, but I couldn’t carry him through life anymore.” Nicholas is the kind of overachiever that is useful if pointed in the right direction; juvenile code of ethics aside, he is, empirically, helping the community (within the entirely fictional framework where that’s a thing police do). If the world hadn’t changed to turn their flaws into strengths, they would still be relatively harmless. Gary is what happens when immaturity isn’t harmless, and shows us how a world built by that immaturity would look.

There is an appeal to Gary King, a wish fulfillment. Letting your id fully off the leash because you no longer care what anybody thinks - it’s why some people drink, and it’s why some people would like to drink with Gary. But if that’s not just your Friday night, not just your twenties, but that’s your life? There is a destination at the end of that road, and it’s Gary doing something truly ugly. And we see that ugly thing the way Gary sees it: as awesome. But then you see the reality: the Monday morning after the Friday night. We went out with Gary and he did something terrible.

And I’m not telling you to hate Gary for it; I’m not saying Gary can’t be forgiven. In fact, seeing it for what it is is the only way Gary could be forgiven, because, if he “grew up and took responsibility,” there’s nothing to forgive.

I think this is the only way the trilogy could have ended. I mean, you make stories about boys who get older and older and don’t grow up, it eventually becomes a problem. There’s only two ways to resolve it: you either end with a guy actually sorting his shit out, or you go for broke and show what happens if he doesn’t. And I think some of us boys saw that and said, “no, noooo, they did grow up! all three of them!” rather than say, “haha! hahaaa! ……………shit.”

#video essay #cornetto trilogy #Youtube

[boydepartment]

“i’m in love with you” - with enhypen

a/n: last post for tonight i am sorry i’m trying to get back in a groove i promise

warnings- angst, fluff, it’s a good mix 😋 reader is intoxicated in jakes

wc- i’d say 100 words per member

MASTERLIST

jungwon- stupid for you by waterparks

you knew jungwon was a smart man. he always had a plan and he was always observant. until it came to you. oh my god he was so so so stupid. for years you were pining after him and always hyping him up. he always thought that’s just what friends do. so one day when you were hanging out at the dorms he turned to you.

“i don’t think you’ve ever had a crush on someone? that i’ve known about?” jungwon was curious. because he did like you, hell he LOVED you. he was just too stupid to realize you actually liked him back.

“because i haven’t.” you shrugged simply, you saw his face fall so you continued speaking, “…but i have been in love with you for years now.”

heeseung- my love mine all mine by mitski

heeseung and you have been dating for a couple months now, your relationship healthy. something you never thought you’d get in your life. for the most part you thought you’d die alone or unexpectedly. your luck was always against you, except when it came to heeseung… you both were in the kitchen slowly swaying back and forth. he told you about his busy day and you just watched him talk. his little mannerisms making your heart feel so warm.

“what’s going on in your pretty head right now, princess?” his smile got you

“i’m in love with you.”

jay- sea of love by cat power

jay had been in love with you since he became sentient. he spilled something on you in daycare and that was it. you smacked him upside the head and BOOM sentient. you were his first real memory. he’d never want that taken away from him.

but people grow, and move apart from eachother. and that’s what happened, while you continued studying, he became an idol. of course you still saw him for family things, but he’d always had a camera or body guard with him. it wasn’t the same anymore. so you distanced more. this wasn’t the lifestyle you liked or wanted.

during a holiday meal, jay finally got a minute alone and he pulled you into another room.

“what’s going on with you? i haven’t seen you in forever and now it’s like you don’t want to be around me…” jay mumbled

you looked at him now feeling extremely guilty, “i-i don’t know… it’s just a lot, your lifestyle isn’t for me and-“

it was now or never for jay.

“i’m in love with you. me being an idol isn’t forever. i want forever with you…”

jake- your graduation by modern baseball

you and jake had history. too much of it. it was constant of you calling him to pick you up from a party or something that you weren’t proud of. he was sick of it. jake was tired of watching you practically waste away. it pissed him off. and it honestly pissed you off, why did he care so much when he was the one who would never take your confessions of love seriously?

which led to the argument in the driveway, you drunk off alcohol and him drunk off anger.

“why do you even do this?! you didn’t used to be like this in highschool!” he yelled waving his hands around.

you poked him in the chest, “i don’t owe you any explanation for my feelings!”

“what do you have to be feeling about y/n?! to the point of making fucked up decisions!?”

his voice was loud.

you had enough, “IM IN LOVE WITH YOU AND NO MATTER WHAT I DO YOU NEVER NOTICE IT!”

sunghoon- kiss me by sixpence none the richer

sunghoon was infatuated with you. every spring you worked the saturday market. and every spring he would be your number one customer. always tipping you and always buying your produce. whether it be the apples, flowers, grapes, strawberries, anything. his favorite was when you made bracelets one year though. this went on for a really long time. sunghoon wanted to play the long game with you, you didn’t know he was an idol clearly. and he didn’t want to scare you.

“there’s my favorite customer! sunghoon how are you?” you’d smile at him. all sunghoon wanted was to kiss you, you and your bright smiling face.

“i’m really good today!”

he’d visit more than usual and the flirty banter would come back almost immediately.

“with how much of my stuff you buy i’d assume you’re like in love with me.” you laughed slightly

“i am. i am in love with you.”

sunoo- puppy princess by hot freaks

you had a boyfriend and sunoo was STUCK. he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you were dating someone. you were his best friend, what was the issue?

oh yeah the fact he’s in love with you? yeah…. that’s a pretty big issue.

no matter what though, he kept you smiling and he kept dreaming. at some point sunoo couldn’t hold it in anymore. especially after your boyfriend dumped you out of the blue.

“he doesn’t know what he’s doing y/n. you’re too good for him.”

you looked at him with tears in your eyes, for a few minutes now he’s been joking with you trying to keep you laughing.

“i don’t know…. sunoo you’re gonna be biased because we’re friends.”

sunoo gave you a look, “i’m going to be biased because i’m in love with you.”

riki- apple cider by beabadoobee

you were never supposed to like him at all, you didn’t WANT to. neither did he if he was being honest. it was a weird dynamic between you and him. riki was conflicted and so were you, which led to both of you growing distant thinking the other was tired with the other.

one night when he had free time, he finally made his way to your home. riki obviously stuck out, it was dangerous and stupid but he was running on adrenaline. he knocked on the door hands shaking, when your parent called you from your room you were shocked to see riki standing there. he was obviously not supposed to be here.

“what’re you doing here?” you walked out and wrapped yourself up more when you shut the door behind you, now standing with him outside. it was cold and late, well later at night. you thought something was wrong especially when he refused to speak. you went closer to him and put a hand on his head to check his temperature.

“are you sick? did something happen? do you need to come in-“

“i’m in love with you.” he blurted out

#enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha scenarios #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x reader #jay park imagines #jay park x reader #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon x reader #kim sunoo imagines #kim sunoo x reader #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x reader #heeseung imagines #park jongseong imagines #enhypen #enha #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #jungwon imagines #sunghoon imagines

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there everyone! Thank you so much for everything that you do~

I was wondering if you could please recommend some fics that have absolutely beautiful prose? I couldn't find a tag for it but similar to A portrait in synesthesia or The Injury Of Finally Knowing You (unpack_my_heart_with_words).

Thank you and hope you're all having a lovely day❤

Here are some fics from my bookmarks that I have tagged "beautiful"...

Strawberry Wine by GaryOldman (NR)

Human AU Ineffable Husbands one shot. "You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you." - Richard Siken

Empty and Desolate, The Air by asparkofgoodness (M)

Ever a guardian, Aziraphale kept watch. Sliver-shafts of moonlight sliced ribbons across Crowley’s face. The emptiness of it unnerved the angel. Even in slumber, his expressive face had always told stories. Syllables shifted in the corners of his mouth; sentences found themselves punctuated with the movement of an eyebrow. Now, only still silence, even in sleep.   Heavenly forces decide the best way to get their once-dutiful soldier back is to slaughter his only real reason for rebellion. Their attempt leaves Crowley wounded and voiceless. Aziraphale tries his best to heal him and accept the soundlessness of this new verse of their song.

You Said Go Slow (I Fall Behind) by BlackUnicorn (G)

Further up, still, half-hidden by the branches of the trees and the leaves of the hedges, stood a cottage. It looked like any other cottage, really, with a thatched roof and a fainted paintjob and a garden out back. However, anyone who took a closer look would agree that this particular cottage was, in fact, quite extraordinary – the roses ranking up the stone arch in the front bloomed more lustrous than any roses ever seen on earth, the car in the driveway was almost antique and yet looked like it had rolled out of the factory no longer than a few weeks ago, the shelves inside held more books than should be physically possible, and the Mona Lisa sketch in the hallway was said to have been signed by dear old Leo himself. And there, in the first-floor bedroom, covered by piles of duvets and blankets, lay the Demon Crowley, alone, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling from behind his sunglasses, waiting for dawn. *** Sometimes healing and moving on is the hardest part.

Exit Wounds by racketghost (T)

“At least they were together for a time,” Crowley says, staring at the lit end of his cigarette, “maybe that’s enough.” Part 1 of Strange Moons series (G-E)

l’esprit de l’escalier by seekwill (M)

l’esprit de l’escalier: that feeling you get when you leave a conversation and think of all the things you should have said With his books and his clothes and other curiosities he’d collected since beginning his time in London, Aziraphale considered himself a curator of beautiful things. He found beauty in people too, in the way they moved and spoke and laughed. This man, who was very nearly past him now, almost gone, shook him. He couldn’t understand why. There was an impulse to reach out, to wrap his blunt fingers around the man’s skinny wrist on his handlebars, say “Hello there, might you have a moment to explore why I’ve fallen in love with you just now?” An adaptation of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's 2001 film Amélie, as part of the GO Romantic Comedy Event

Not a Human AU by maniacalmole (G)

Aziraphale knows Crowley has a crush and doesn't know what to do about it. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he considered himself ‘alive’ or not. What would he do if he had to live a life? We may not be people, Crowley thought. But I do—I do want.

And the two you mentioned...

The Injury Of Finally Knowing You by unpack_my_heart_with_words (T)

Once in heaven, the angels do what they always do— a kindness. The only blessing is that without his memories, Aziraphale has no idea what he has lost. It will end, as it began, in a garden.

A Portrait in Synesthesia by DiminishingReturns (M)

In the innocent time before the Fall complicated everything, one shy, studious chronicler and one curious, chaotic starmaker fell in love. They were left with no memory of each other, but the soul remembers what the mind forgets, and their experiences together left them with a unique kind of synesthesia— the emotional state, mannerisms, and voice of one having a paired physical response (smell, taste, or color) in the other. Follow Aziraphale and Crowley from the pre-Fall times to the Apocalypse as these heightened earthly senses continually pull them back together. At first, they meet tentatively under Halley’s Comet, the last thing Crowley created as a starmaker and an excuse to keep returning to one another’s orbit. But over the millennia, their relationship deepens and they find new reasons to seek each other’s company.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #prose #beautiful #mod d

[lexsssu]

NGL, you mentioning Leon Kennedy is now making me think he's clingy af to everyone who loves him, 'cause I've been getting the urge to replay RE2R/RE4 recently just because of him.

To, uh, gaze at him respectfully. Very respectfully. 👀👀👀

Bro yesssssssssssss

I swear that bby boi is so affection-starved after everything that happened to him that the moment he finds real love, there's no way he's holding back <3

And with that, here's what I came up for Leon so far because he decided to invade my dreams-- HAHAHAHA

TAGS: Older!Leon (late 30s-early 40s)/F!reader(early-mid 20s), age gap, pervy thoughts, affection-starved!Leon, headcanons Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Older!Leon who'd all but given up any semblance of a normal relationship after everything he's gone through. He lazes about in the coach of the cheap apartment he sentenced himself into living in (despite the swanky and secure government housing freely provided as one of the top agents) with a cold beer while some random series was playing on low volume on the TV

Older!Leon who hears knocking on his door and begrudgingly answers it only to be met with the prettiestcutestmostgorgeousmouthwatering person he'd ever seen in his life

Older!Leon gets a full whiff of your strawberries & cream scent even before you opened your mouth and has him thinking of everything that is innocent, good, and worth protecting in this world. He then realizes that you'd already introduced yourself and that he'd been staring at you like a creep this whole time

“Kennedy…Uhhh…Leon S. Kennedy,” he half mumbles and states as he tries not to look too deeply into your eyes lest he finds himself lost in their depths. He doesn’t need to look more of a creep than you might have already thought he was

 And when you don’t immediately run for the hills, he internally sighs in relief. It’s a foreign feeling to him, because after all the horrors he’d witnessed and experienced, the last thing he ever worried about was how other people perceived him

That he was actually worried about what you thought about him despite having only met is both alarming and yet somehow…comforting? It tells him that despite how broken he thinks he is, he’s not so broken as to no longer care at all about anything

…It also helps that you’re such a cutie that it’s impossible for him not to care about you. Especially when you keep bringing him your homemade food all the time

The animal part of his brain rumbles with pleasure at how you were already being such a good mate by making sure he’s well-fed when he’d yet to properly bond you to him. It reinforces the idea that some part of you unconsciously knew that he was the one for you

“It’s the first time I’ve lived on my own, and I guess I’m just not used to making only food for one. I don’t like letting food go to waste either, so I thought maybe one of the neighbors might appreciate it. Safe to say that I never get to any of the other neighbors since you’re always gratefully accepting my cooking, Mr. Kennedy”

Had he been a lesser man, your playful teasing would have resulted in you pinned to the floor as he loomed over you, covering your naughty little mouth with his. He could already imagine the tiny squeak you’d let out in surprise or the delicious whimpers he’d coax from your plush lips that he’d only swallow up

“I think we’re more than acquainted enough to get past our surnames, don’t you think? Just Leon is fine with me, doll.” 

The first time he hears his given name spoken from your lips, his traitorous brain conjures up an image of you with your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as he fucks your pretty pussy open with his cock 

Was he getting too attached because you were the first person outside of the dangerous world he lived in who showed genuine care without expecting anything in return?

…Perhaps

But did he really care? 

Honestly, no

If anything, it’s only a matter of time until he no longer had to imagine waking up next to you in the morning or getting back home from a mission or the office and having you wrapped in a pretty little apron without anything underneath waiting patiently for him

#lexsssu writes #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #resident evil headcanons

[thatlovinfeelin]

He Don't Like The Lights | Bradley Bradshaw Actor AU|

Waiting tables wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t your favorite job either. Not that you hated it, because you didn’t. For the most part you liked your coworkers, your roommate Celeste being one of them. Your bosses weren’t horrible, and the pay was alright. You were able to pay your bills and stash some extra cash away for savings. Soon, or at least you hoped it would be soon, you would be able to move out of the somewhat shitty place with Celeste and get a better apartment. Maybe even leave Virginia altogether. 

“Hey, I need you to take table five.” 

“But it’s not in my section tonight,” You argue with your manager. 

“Just take it, okay? It's a single and you’re better with singles than Celeste,” He replied, shooing you away with his hands. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes as you grabbed your waitress book and headed towards the single guy sitting at the table. You never sized up tables before you started serving them, never tried to write people off before they had a chance to show their colors. 

But you could tell that this guy was hot just by the way he was sitting with a baseball cap tugged low. He at least knew how to wear a damned hat unlike some of the guys who came in with it halfway on their heads. 

“Hi, welcome in, can I get you started with anything to drink?” You asked cheerfully as you stopped in front of him. 

The bar was relatively empty, which came as a surprise since it was a weekend and the weather was fairly nice. Maybe everyone was still out at the beach and would be in before dinner ended. Maybe you would get lucky and end up having a good tip night to make up for the shitfest that was last night. 

“Uh, just a Bud on draft if you have it.”

“Bud lite?” You question. 

“No, Buswieser, the real shit,” There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice. 

“I’ve got it in a bottle, is that okay?”

“Yeah that works,” He replies, tipping his head back to look up at you. 

It takes you a second to register who’s actually looking at you. You’ve seen those dark hazel eyes on screen plenty of times, because Cele is obsessed with his movies. However, what really takes you back is how normal he looks in an old beat up t-shirt and shorts. He doesn’t look like the glamourous actor that you’ve seen.

“I’m sorry- are you,” You stop and lick your lips. 

You aren’t nervous, because you aren’t obsessed with him. His movies are okay, and you have to admit he is more attractive in person than he is on screen. But you’ve never been one to fall face first over someone who’s in the industry, not that you’ve ever had the chance to before. 

“Are you Bradley Bradshaw?” The question comes out as a whisper as you lean down, trying to be as quiet as you can. 

He pales for a moment, waiting to see if you’re going to fully freak out on him before smiling sheepishly, “Caught that easily, huh?”

“You’re lucky it’s just me and not the other girl over there,” You inform him, “She’d be on the floor, and I know that because I live with her and share a TV with her. But since it’s just me,” you smile at him before backing away a step, “A bottle of Bud coming right up.”

He smiles and relaxes into his seat before looking back down at his phone on the table. You can’t help but smile as you make your way towards the bar and the POS system to start his ticket. 

Bradley Bradshaw is eating in the bar and no one but you knows. He just happened to be lucky enough that Celeste had the one big table and was therefore too busy to take him, even though it was her section. 

“Thanks for taking that table,” She sounds out of breath as she sets a drink tray down next to you, “I’m swamped with those fuckers over there. Tourists on vacation who want everything at that very moment. Including three Virgin Strawberry Daiquiris for the kids. I want to shoot myself.”

You smile to yourself as you make your way around to the beer cooler to grab a nice cold bottle of Bud, “Oh don’t worry about it. He shouldn’t cause any trouble anyway.”

If only she knew. 

“Here you go,” You say, sitting the open bottle down on his table, “Do you need a minute to look over the menu? Or do you have any questions?”

“What do you recommend?” He asked you, looking back up. 

“Pulled Pork Mac’n’cheese, easy,” You replied almost instantly, “Hands down my favorite dish here, after our Crab Dip appetizer, but I also eat that for a full meal.”

He smiles up at you and closes the menu before handing it back to you, “I’ll try that Pork Mac then.”

“Sounds good, I’ll get that right in!” You smile triumphantly before backing away once again, “Holler if you need anything, okay? I’ll be back to check on you before the food comes out.”

Back at the bar, Celeste is finally able to stop for a minute and catch her breath. She looks miserable and it makes you want to laugh a little. Her night would be very different if she just took Table Five instead. 

She’s hunched over her phone reading an article, which normally you would call her out on being on her phone but tonight you can’t be bothered. It’s slow enough and her phone is hidden anyway. 

“Hey, Bradshaw is up for a bunch of awards,” She grins, “He so deserves them. You remember how great he was in that war movie, right! That’s what’s being nominated.”

“Hmm?” You question before your brain seems to catch up with you, “Oh, yeah. No, he was great in that movie. Whole cast was, honestly.”

“Exactly! I hope they sweep at the Oscars, they all deserve it so much.”

You have to hide your smile as you type away on the POS to put in the order. In the back, you can hear your kitchen jamming out to some sort of heavy metal meets classic rock mix which isn’t all that unusual for them. There are some days you’ve come to work and they’ve been listening to Disney music. At this point you can’t even try to say that you understand what their playlists consist of. 

It takes ten minutes before you’re walking back over to the table with another beer in hand. You noticed he was starting to run low and you know better than to let a drink ever go empty. That was one of the first things you learned when you became a waitress. 

“Brought you another one,” You announce, setting it down. 

“Thanks, appreciate it,” He replies, “And uh, thanks for not freaking out on me. Would’ve been a bitch if I got swarmed in here.”

“No worries, I’m not a rabid fan or anything,” You laugh, “But I am curious as to why you’re here of all places. I thought you lived in LA?”

“I do,” He nods, “But this was home long before LA was. I was born here in Virginia, I like to come back and visit family from time to time.”

“Oh,” You’re taken back by his honesty. He could’ve easily told you that it was none of your business, which is what you expected, “That’s really nice actually.”

Celeste calls you, saying the kitchen wants you. Reluctantly you force yourself away from the table and towards the set of double swinging doors in the middle of the bar. Something about Bradley Bradshaw is drawing you in and you aren’t sure if you want to resist it or not. Surely he wouldn’t remember your name in a few hours. He’d forget about the server from Virginia the second he got on a flight back to LA and the way of the world would take back over. 

“Here’s that pork mac,” Chef told you, nudging the dish in the window, “Get it out of my sight.”

“Sir yes sir,” You reply, grabbing the hot dish, “Thank you!”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off,” He grumbled, which only made you smile. 

You made your way back towards Bradley’s table with a smile. You could see why Celeste was so enamored with him. There was just something about him that made you want to sit down and hang on his every word. Plus, he was hot as hell. He still had the mustache from his previous role, and was trying to hide behind his ball cap. He looked normal, almost.

You wondered how other people here saw him? Were they even paying attention to the bonafide star that was hiding out in the corner? Celeste would piss herself if she knew he was here, hell, you might even piss yourself if he smiled at you again. The thought made you a little weak in the knees. 

“Your pork mac,” You said, sitting it down on the table in front of him, “Be careful, it’s actually pretty hot.”

“Mmm, looks fantastic,” He nearly groaned, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you don’t even know if you’ll like it!” You laughed, “But I hope you enjoy, and let me know if I can get you anything else.”

You hop away from him again, taking a deep breath as you go. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradsaw x reader

[lovekz]

strawberry milk

syn -> rindou accidentally captures your heart with strawberry milk, but he has no regrets.

beware of.. bullying, ran acts like rindou's mom, violence, mention of a teacher-student relationship (not real)

"rin! can you go to the store?!" ran called out from the kitchen.

rindou sat in the living room playing his video game, oblivious to any of ran's calls to him.

he had finally made it to the boss level and was not letting ran get in the middle of it by being annoying.

ran has never been one to care about what others think though.

so, he walked over to the living room and pulled the plug from his game.

rindou let out a horrified scream, standing up from his seat almost immediately.

ran watched as his brother scattered around the room in a panic, looking for the plug that stood in his hands.

when rindou finally noticed, he launched his controller at him.

"what the fuck ran?!" rindou cursed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"i said go to the store. you have all weekend to play the game." ran said, crossing his arms and frowning in disappointment.

where did he go wrong in raising this boy?

"go yourself and give me back the plug." rindou scoffed, crossing his arms at ran.

ran didn't budge though, just staring at rindou like he'd grown fifty heads one time.

kakucho peeked from out of the kitchen, seeing the two brothers stare at each other.

"if it's such a big deal, i can go-" "shut up kaku." the brothers said, glaring at the older male.

he held his hands up in defense, watching the two brother's go back to staring at each other.

"fine. you owe me." rindou huffed, shoving his feet into his sneakers and grabbing his wallet.

"i'm making you dinner, i don't owe you shit." ran said, gesturing to the kitchen.

ran has never cooked a day in his life, so rindou isn't sure if he should trust him.

maybe he'll grab a burger or something while he's out.

~

the walk to the store was not long, it was just draining to be outside.

it was supposed to rain later in the day, so the sky was full of grey and saggy clouds.

the streets were partially clear for the upcoming storm, save for the people who had work and needed to be out.

and of course, the movie-like bullies from rindou's school.

they were always bothering this timid girl, who'd always mind her business and get her shit over with.

it seems like they found her outside in this shitty weather, as rindou could hear them yelling and giggling from a mile away.

'they continue this outside of school too?' rindou thought, passing the alley they were in.

what made him pause was the low 'let's get a picture for him. he'll love to see her in a short skirt.'

rindou seen you around numerous of times. not once did he ever see you wear something that didn't touch or at least go past your dainty fingers.

rindou stepped into the alley, seeing the flash of the camera go off.

what the hell is he gonna do about a girl that doesnt even give two shits about him?

you little whimpers could be heard, and that gave rindou his answer.

whoop their ass.

rindou let the metal end of his umbrella collide with one of their heads harshly, knocking them out efficiently.

"what are you guys doing?" rindou questioned, rolling his head and stretching lightly.

"don't interrupt us teaching the teacher-fucker a lesson, or you're next." one of the guys scoffed, squaring up.

"try me." rindou chuckled, launching his umbrella square into another guys nose.

he didn't have to do much, because once his hood fell, everyone paused and began running.

yells of 'shit! it's one of the haitani brothers!' could be heard before they scattered out of the alley.

rindou rolled his eyes and looked down at you, who was coward into one of the walls.

you were struggling to cover whatever was revealed, while a slightly sweet but strong scent emitted off you.

it wasn't piss, and perhaps it was the strawberry milk from the carton that was splattered all over the floor.

or maybe...

"did you really?" rindou started, tilting his head.

you looked up at him confused, not sure of what he was talking about.

rindou looked outside of the alley, and then back at you.

"fuck the teacher?" rindou elaborated, rubbing his forehead lightly.

you were a smart girl, so he wasn't understanding why you were so confused as to what he was talking about.

"oh. uhm- no. i didn't." you said, voice coming out peek.

it was the first time rindou had ever even heard you speak, though it was pretty low.

but he was glad to confirm it wasn't some form of semen on you.

rindou nodded, taking in your figure. it was going to get chilly.

in his rush to go to the store, he hadn't taken off his home shorts before putting on his sweatpants.

he didn't want to be cold, but he also didn't want you to go home like that.

the pants were new, and a bit baggy on him. so they'll be much baggier on you.

rindou sighed, before taking his sweatpants off and handing it to you.

his phone buzzed, stopping him from explaining to you.

rindou held a finger up and read the message from his brother.

[5:41pm] aniki : hey rinnie, you can come home. i actually had what i needed from the store. oopsies ;)

rindou scowled at the message, before looking up at you again.

you were trembling pretty hard.

"how about i get you a proper change of clothes and take you home?" rindou suggested, gesturing outside of the alley.

he didn't have to say much earlier, as you put on the sweats that he'd handed you earlier.

at least you were smart enough to put two and two together.

"i can get you something to eat as well?" rindou suggested, looking towards the bag of groceries on the floor.

and you greatly appreciated the kind gesture.

~

when school started back, and rindou had class with you, he decided to sit next to you.

you allowed it, smiling gratefully at him.

he dug in his bag for a bit, and pulled out a small carton before sliding it over to you.

you raised your eyebrow, before looking at rindou in slight confusion.

"do you like strawberry milk?" rindou asked, taking out another carton and taking a sip.

you nodded, opening the straw and popping it into the hole.

following behind the male next to you, you take a sip of your drink with a quiet hum.

"i remember seeing it on the floor and your clothes the day i helped you." rindou shrugged, sipping his own.

you smiled, muttering a small thank you to him once more.

the two sat in comfortable silence, before you had remembered something.

"oh! i brought your sweats." you smiled sweetly, going to dig through your school bag.

rindou put his hand on your shoulder to stop you, shooting you a small smile.

"it's cool. keep em." rindou said, waving you off.

he wasn't going to take it away from you when you'd look so adorable in them.

~

when you and rindou had finally gotten closer, you decided to invite him over to your house.

it wasn't anything too serious. you had explained that your parents were gone and you didn't want to be in the house by yourself.

rindou understood, and accepted your invitation.

now the two of you were in comfortable clothes laying in your bed, watching some shitty romance movie with strawberry milk.

rindou wasn't really enjoying it, but you were, so that was all that mattered to him.

"i want romance like that." you groaned in annoyance, resting your head against your palm.

rindou chuckled, and rolled his eyes.

the scene was a short slideshow of the couple. taking pictures, going on dates, sharing things.

everything a cheesy couple could do.

it stayed silent for a couple of seconds, save for the movie playing in the background.

and for a split second, you heard rindou mumble something silently.

you turned your head to give him your full attention, but he'd averted his eyes as his cheeks began to dust a bright pink.

"what was that rin?" you questioned, poking his hip just a bit to get his attention.

rindou took a deep inhale and looked at you, sitting up from where he was laying at.

"i could give that to you." rindou said bravely, looking at you in your eyes.

you blinked in confusion, looking at him. "not a friendship way, rin." you explained further.

rindou nodded, still looking at you.

you sat up next to rindou and faced him, trying to figure out what he was trying to tell you.

rindou sighed, when he realized you weren't getting the memo.

"i like you. and i wanna give you that cheesy romance." rindou said, saying your name in a tone he never thought he'd use before.

you stared at him for a bit, feeling your face get hot.

unfortunately, rindou took your silence as a bad sign.

"it's cool. maybe i should go." rindou muttered, putting down his strawberry milk and gathering his clothes to change.

he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable if he did.

before he could step a single toe out of your bedroom door you launched yourself onto him.

you held onto him tightly and wouldn't let go.

"please?" you asked, looking up at rindou from his chest.

"i'd love to have that romance with you." you whispered, intertwining your fingers with rindou.

and all it really took was strawberry milk.

#rindo #Rindou #rindou fanfic #rindou x reader #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou haitani x reader #rindou fluff #haitani ran #kakuran #ran haitani #kakucho hitto #tr kakucho #tokyo revengers kakucho #kakucho #Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers rindou #tokyo revengers ran #tokyorev x you #tokyorev x reader #tr fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #fluff

[faeskiss]

LONGING ༉‧₊˚.

synopsis: reader misses zaros on their birthday! a sad fic

The ballroom is alive and thriving with guests, music is blaring and reverberating throughout the hall, rampant sound of laughter and revelry is dancing in the air, the smell of wine and strawberries is thick and inviting

it’s my birthday, but I am cooped up in this absurd corner,next to the fondue table, a glass of switchel in my hand, I would go for a more riveting drink, but I really shouldn’t have alcohol, it’s very easy for me to lose myself if I have too much, and I am determined to not give these people an unwanted show and fuel their zeal for drama and gossip.

I certainly don’t want Zaros to have any reason to laugh or look down on me……even if he isn’t here physically, news travels fast, and if I make a spectacle of myself, there’s no way he wouldn’t hear about it.

My mother, the Queen, gives a long speech in my honour, it’s warm and wholesome, and I certainly don’t deserve to be praised the way she does, she paints me in such a way that I seem tenfold the incredible and dutiful person I am, when that’s far from reality, I dread the day people of my kingdom realise that I’m a fraud, that I hide behind my intelligence and wit, that I haven’t the slightest clue of what I’m doing, this fear, it eats me alive, every single day.

I’m not exactly the best person you’ll ever come across, I know that, and I know if Zaros were here he’d remind of the same every five minutes, even on my birthday

Nobles come and go, bringing in gifts and fake smiles, giving me their half hearted good wishes, all my fair weather friends are here too, this entire ordeal feels more like a desperate attempt to prove who is more loyal and dutiful to the future ruler rather than a birthday party, it all feels so very disingenuous.

No matter how rocky things were between me and Zaros, he had always been a veritable person, one of the very few people who truly saw me for who I was, no matter how unpleasant the “real me” is…

I still remember my 17th birthday, right before everything went wrong, back when he still had some amount of love for me in his soul, he had given me a heart shaped necklace with my initials, in his handwriting, engraved on it, it was custom made for me, he told me that as long as I had that necklace, I would have a piece of him with me at all times

we weren’t always incredibly affectionate with each other,but when we were it was real and almost intoxicating…

I’ve had uncountable pieces of jewellery gifted to me in the past, but none have meant so much to me as that necklace, I have it locked away, safely, my heart still aches every single time I accidentally come across it in my closet

it’s a reminder of how much he really loved and cared for me, and how he’ll never love me the way he used to, ever again, not even if I prayed to the heavens with every single speck of hope and optimism my body can muster…

tears start bubbling in my eyes, “oh god, I don’t want to cry on my birthday, especially not because of him” I think to myself ,I hurry out of the ballroom, leading my way to the balcony before anyone can see me in this state.

I quickly hang on to the railing for support as I feel the sadness seep into my knees making them go weak, I want to breakdown, I want to scream and cry, I want to feel the warmth of his embrace once more, just one more time, it’s the only birthday wish no one in the land can grant me.

A huge pit of longing starts to form in my stomach, as if it’s a black hole ready to engulf my very being right here and now, no matter how hard I try to deny it, I can’t anymore, I miss him so much it hurts, I miss Zaros SO much, he was everything to me, no matter how much we brawled, no matter the poisonous words that spewed out of our mouths when we fought, I still loved him and I know he loved me.

I haven’t seen his face or heard his voice in almost 3 years, my eyes and ears are starved, everything that went down between us, I regret it every day.

A sharp shooting pain stabs me in the chest, as his stupidly charming smile flashes before my eyes, I took it for granted, I still remember the last time he smiled at me like that, teeth and all, warm and comforting, little did I know it’d be the last time I’d ever see it.

Our relationship was always complicated but the one thing that none of us could deny was that we could share anything we wanted with each other, no matter how much he disapproved of my actions, he knew he could be himself around me, he had a way of seeing through my every word, every movement , every look, he knew me better than anyone, even my own mother….even my own self, I had never felt so alive as I did when I was with him, now I feel like an empty shell of a person, existing in vain, bitter and incomplete.

My tired gaze travels outside the balcony, the city looks beautiful, fireworks are ablaze in the sky, I can hear the excitement and chatter of the people outside as they relish the beautiful sight with their loved ones, I haven’t gotten to hear much about Zaros since he left, but I do know that he’s in town, and I know that right now we share the same twilight sky, I don’t care for the expensive clothing, the jewels, the meaningless luxuries that I have received tonight, the only thing I truly want is for him to look up at the sky, and think of me, of every single smile, every thoughtful glance we shared, all the times our laughter echoed through the walls of this palace, and smile, even if it is for a split second. ༉‧₊˚.

#zsakuva zaros #zsakuva #sakuverse #writers on tumblr #zaros

[aliceinborderlandscrolls]

Scattered Cards

Chishiya Shuntarō x reader

I wanted to marry you…

Angst / Fluff

I stared up at the ceiling, small cracks breaking along it.

Five hours lying in this bed and I was still unable to get any rest. I felt restless from the adrenaline that the spade game Chishiya and I were forced to play earlier. Those people in those horse masks… They were just like us, like everyone put here.

Trying to survive just another day.

I placed my hand over where my heart was, feeling it pump faster than normal. It was as if those moments followed me like as shadow even after the event had already passed. It was those moments that played in my head of Chishiya almost… If he had been a second late in dodging those bullets… I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. I couldn’t bare the thought of surging this world without him. He was the only thing keeping me going. In his cold distant snarky way, he was what kept me from ending it all in this demolished world.

I glanced over to the familiar mop of hair, dark natural locks beginning to appear from his roots. I thought it looked nice with blonde he bleached his hair with. I wondered why he chose to bleach his hair in the real world… More so what he looked liked before with his natural.

Light snores came past his lips as he slept peacefully beside me. I could almost laugh at how much of a child he looked, but he was also seemed so peaceful…

A frown settled on my lips. How could he sleep with such ease? Would anything in this world affect him? To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him distraught after any game, immediately falling a sleep with little to no effort.

He looked as if he hadn’t just come back from a life or death situation.

It was his nonchalance about his own life that worried me the most and I wondered what it would take for him to finally break through his carefree facade…

But, my word does he look beautiful…

I don’t think I have ever seen a man so handsome in my life and here he appeared, at a beach with his lucky white jacket. It was by chance that we met. The memory bringing a smile to my face. The spilt strawberry drink on his shorts was on my behalf.

“I’m so sorry!” I panicked, kneeling down to clean up the mess.

“You don’t need to apologize. He bumped into you.” He stated referring to one of the drunk players with a yellow beach shirt.

“Still… This is your first day here and I’ve already left you with an unpleasant memory.” I sighed when the stain wouldn’t come out.

“This entire world is an unpleasant memory.” He replied, “You however, are interesting.”

I looked up at him, brows furrowed, “I am?”

“You’re close to the hatter. Either you’re related or something more.” He stated, completely ignoring the way I was spreading the stain on his shorts instead of fixing it.

I shook my head at the misconception, “No, there’s nothing going on between us.” I made a face of disgust, “Hatter and Aguni took me in… We arrived to this world at the same time.” I stopped trying to fix what I had done looking up at him, “I wouldn’t be anywhere without them. I owe them my life.”

“Seems like everyone here owes someone their life.” He answered, “You however, owe me a new pair of shorts.”

“I’ll get you one tomorrow, I promise!” I stuttered.

It was the nonchalance in his voice as he spoke words that rang true and it was that moment I knew I would eventually fall for him.

I couldn’t take the looming silence snaring its way around me. Images past through my mind of all the games I have played since waking up here… All the bodies I have seen… The lives I couldn’t save… My life that I put first.

“Chishi?” I whispered the nickname I gave him ever since the first time I felt something more than friendship towards him.

I still remember the look he gave me, but he said nothing about it none the less.

His arms pulled tighter around his pillow, facing me. I wanted to chuckle at how he looked so much like a child with his face squished by the puffy thing.

“Chish…” I whispered again, a small smile appearing on my face.

He grunted in acknowledgment, refusing to open his eyes.

“In the real world, would you still want what we have?” I asked, referring to the two of us.

“Don’t be stupid.” Was all he replied, ready to go back to sleep.

I stared at the ceiling with a huff, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He replied.

I rolled over to face him, my face resting against my clasped hands as I took a breathe to say the question I’ve been thinking about.

“Chishi…” My voice trailed off with nerves, “Would you still want to date me?”

“No.” He answered after a short moment.

My heart deflated as a thousands needles stabbed at it. He seemed to be so brutally honest leaving no room for debate. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, his voice nonchalant. I think that made it worse. After all we’ve been through… He felt nothing for me? Couldn’t he want to at least try?

Has he just been bored and I was only good enough to appease his lack of entertainment?

The only thing I could form out of my mouth was a quiet, “Oh…” As I settled back into bed.

How am I supposed to sleep after that? Should I… Leave? Maybe Kuina would let me spend the night at her place.

Before I couldn’t get up he spoke again, this time a small smirk on his face. It was as if he knew the turmoil that was going on inside my head. A game he enjoyed to play.

“I would want to marry you.” He stated. His eyes still closed, but content nonetheless.

A smile made with pink cheeks followed by my giggle as I fell into his honeyed words. I quickly snuggled into his side. He already had his arm moved away to make room for me of course.

Chishiya seemed to always knowing what my reaction will be as if he could read me like a book… Magbe he could.

His arm was raised only slightly, but enough so that I could fit into his side like a missing piece to his difficult puzzle.

“You would marry me, hm?” I smiled into his chest.

The only sound that came from him was a muffled, “Mm.”

“My husband… A doctor. I like the sound of that. Especially of you saving lives and helping people.”

“Of course you would. You’re a sap.” He stated.

“Maybe I am, but only for you.” I mused as I traced circles into his shirt, “And I wouldn’t care for a fancy ring either. I would want it to be something as simple and true as our love.”

I couldn’t help the way my heart leaped in my chest or the fluttery feeling that appeared from the thoughts of marrying him. Those feelings pushed aside the fear and heartache that came with the borderlands. It pushed them far away, leaving me in a bliss by the name of love.

“Mrs. Chishiya. I like the sound of that.” I mumbled.

“Hush. I’m trying to sleep.” He muttered.

“Goodnight Mr. Chishiya.” I giggled.

He amused me by saying those few words that had me ailing like an idiot, “Goodnight Mrs. Chishiya.”

My hands clutched onto his shirt as he held onto my side, the two of us falling into a blissful sleep.

If you loved me that much Shuntarō, why would you betray me like this?

#alice in borderland #aib #alice in boderland x reader #aib headcanons #aib spoilers #aib x reader #aib season 2 #aib x you #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya imagine #thank you #chishiya fic #chishiya x reader #aib s2 #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya headcanons #chishiya fluff #chishiya angst #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #chishiya fanfic #shuntaro chishiya x reader

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 18

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 18 next>>

A/N: This contains prose and panels in between. Same for Part 19. This part is just too long to put on screenshots.

If looks could kill, Haibara Yu will be on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood with the way Sukuna was looking at him like he was going to pop a vein on his forehead. It was almost comical since he was holding onto a bottle of strawberry milk and looked like he was about to squeeze it broken with how tight his fists were.

“Man, she seems different from the stories is all I'm saying.”

Sukuna eyed him enquiringly, a menacing hint to it as he breathed out slowly. As far as he was concerned, he never heard any bad rumor about you. “What stories?” He noted the defensive note in his tone, his protective side coming out.

“You heard me.” Yu lifted his shoulders slightly to express uncertainty. “She gets invited to all the parties but she declines all of them and everyone thinks she’s a two-faced snob. And I also heard someone claiming that she said she doesn't mix with commoners.”

It explained why Sukuna has never seen you in any of the parties he has been in. He only knew you from school, and if he did see you at any party, he wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to approach you at least once. He knew himself, and he appreciated beauty. But maybe that was for the better because then, you probably wouldn’t have liked to be in the same breathing space as him with the way he acts in those gatherings.

His facial muscles suddenly rearranged into a scowl, causing the other male to back away. “Who said that?” he hissed. He couldn’t accept what he was hearing. At the same time, he doesn’t understand where the irritation was coming from. He just can’t take it hearing the slander being thrown at you. You didn’t deserve it at all.

“Do those people even realize how busy she is?”

“Dude, I just heard that.”

“I know, but she’s the real deal. Don’t go listening to what those pricks at school are saying. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known. She’s so nice to me. Me!”

“Figures,” Yu said slowly, smirking.

“Go talk to her. Get to know her. You’ll get the proof you want,” Sukuna challenged but Yu shook his head. “If she’s being nice to evil little Ryomen, then that’s proof enough.”

"You wanna die?"

"Man, I believe you! Geez!"

Sukuna still shot Yu a dirty look as he walked back to the living room, unable to wrap his head around the fact that there were actually people who disliked you. It made him sick.

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240520]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

#sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smau #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smau #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smau #jjk smut #jjk fluff #social media au #smau #uraume

[to-the-stars8]

Reviving Love

Jason Todd x Reader AO3

Chapter 2

Eight Years Earlier

Jason had been eager to start school, especially since he had passed all the placement tests put before him, but nervousness had been eating at his stomach the entire morning in anticipation of his first day. Bruce had assured him that school would be good for him to build a life not only outside the manor but also outside of being Robin. 

Before they had reached the school grounds, Jason had gone on and on about his excitement. He loved picking out the right backpack, the notebooks, trying on his uniform and even enjoyed his new sneakers. As he insisted to Alfred, it was all about the first impressions. Mostly. Jason found the nervousness rooted in the desperation to fit in.

When Bruce had signed him in at the office since there was even more paperwork to fill out, the secretary had reassured him that there was nothing to worry about. He’d be spending the day with a buddy. Jason didn’t like the way that made him sound like a baby, but he took what she said with stride. 

Especially when you walked in declaring that she was going to be his first-day buddy. Jason found it weird that he liked the way you smelled like cheap strawberry-scented perfume, and how you smiled when he made a funny comment. 

He brushed it off the best he could. 

“Are you planning on joining any clubs,” You asked as you led him down one of the many long hallways. Everything looked the same with plaques on the beige-colored walls—many with the name Wayne—with some kids' art outside the classrooms. Jason thought it felt more like a movie set, everything was put in a way to make it look like it was the perfect school.

Jason shrugged, “I don’t know if I can.” Being Robin took a lot more time than he had expected, and Jay was sure Bruce wouldn’t approve. After all, the old man was so hard on him for the smallest mistakes and for getting distracted by the smallest things. 

“Does your dad not let you join clubs?” You asked. 

Jason thought about correcting you, to state so plainly that Bruce wasn’t his father that you would never assume it again, but decided that he liked the sound of having a dad. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jason shrugged. You must have noted the awkwardness as you continued talking to fill the silence. 

“I’m in the art club, though I wanted to be in theatre, but my mom wouldn’t let me. She says it’s because I might turn into that kind of theatre kid. I still don’t know what she means by that,” You expelled the thought like you had been holding it in, but when you looked at Jason you realized how long you had been going on. “Sorry, sorry. My mom says I talk too much sometimes.”

Jason shook his head, telling you to go on and that he liked hearing you talk. Surprisingly, that wasn’t entirely a lie. Your openness gave him a sense of ease. 

Reluctantly, you did, telling him all about the school. You had said that everyone was relatively nice but found that a lot of them were out of touch with reality since a majority came from the upper cusp of the Gotham elite. Jason believed it wholeheartedly, because Bruce, as much as he cared for him, was one of the dumbest smart people he’d ever met. Richness Syndrome, he had called it, was a drawback of being so blinded by money that the real world was seen through a money-green filter. 

Suddenly, just as you were about to tell him about the football team, the bell rang. Surprise crossed your face. “Oh! We gotta get to our first class. Come on.”

Jason quickly took out his schedule, looking at what his first class was; social studies. A subject that he found way too easy. You had led him down one of the many same-looking hallways by taking his hand, telling him all about the teacher. His face felt hot and his plam sweaty as you held onto him tightly. The corridor was full of other students, all sporting the same navy and white uniforms, so you must have not wanted him to get lost. 

Jason found himself with butterflies in his stomach when you abruptly stopped in front of a classroom door because it meant that it was suddenly real. He was really in school. The teacher, a short, stout lady with curly red hair and round pink glasses, looked at the two of you with a smile. It was a stark contrast to the other teachers he saw further down the hall as they all seemed to be as boring as everyone else. 

Easily, you explained how Jason was the new student and you were showing him around. The lady joyfully ushered him in, holding him hostage at the front of the classroom as you took your seat. 

You gave him a thumbs up as the teacher quickly told the other students to take their seats. Finally, Jason was presented to the class like a cow that was being sold. At least, that’s how he would describe the feeling. “Everyone, we have a new student, this here is Jason Todd. Can everyone please give a warm welcome to Jason?”

There were tired mumbles of hello followed by his name, others just humming a hi, and Jason suddenly felt stupid. He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, so, as he made his way to the empty seat next to you, he tried to shrink into himself. 

When he was comfortably sat with all his things out, you leaned over to whisper, “We’re finishing up a movie on the Civil Rights Movement, afterward we’ll have P.E. then lunch.”

Jason was glad you were giving him continuous updates on the schedule because it gave him a bit of comfort that he wasn’t going into this blind. Mrs. Parker said they were going to watch something, just like you had mentioned, saying that everyone could sit next to their friends if they wanted as long as they took notes and paid attention. Jason expected you to move away, but, instead, you moved closer to him. 

“You can copy my notes, by the way,” You smiled and Jason hated that he found you so damn pretty. “I bet coming to a new school in the middle of the year can be tough.” 

Jason shrugged with a smile and an airy chuckle, “I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve been in school.”

“Really,” You asked, surprised, leaning forward. 

Before he could respond Mrs. Parker shushed the two of you as she started the film. You smiled at each other, turning your attention to the TV at the front of the room. Quietly, you pushed your notebook over to Jason, on it a simple note. Want to sit together at lunch? 

Jason grinned, nodding at you as his heart did backflips and his stomach filled with butterflies again. He couldn’t wait to tell Bruce that he finally made his first friend in school.

#jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd robin #dick grayson and jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #batfamily #romance #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #bruce wayne #red hood #richard grayson #alfred pennyworth #nightwing #dc robin #bruce wayne is a good dad #Reviving Love

[ghouljams]

Oh excellent, we’re talking about darlings we’ve fallen deeply in love with. Anyway, please please please Liebling give me a chance I’ll work at the shop and clean and do whatever you need please please please—

You want Liebling??? Huh??? For real???

Ok this got a little long and sweet sorry about that. Liebling can't be flirty like Goose and Threat, she's gotta be a freak. You gotta woo her.

You answer the help wanted ad more because the pay is good, and the owner is cute, than because you have any real interest in flower arranging. You have enough retail experience that you're not surprised when you get an interview. You are surprised by the strange series of questions the woman interviewing you asks.

Have you ever lost time during a full moon? Do you find yourself uneasy around rivers? When's the last time you walked through the forest? Do you ever see things you can't explain to other people? Has anyone ever given you a gift that wasn't a gift?

By the end of it you have more questions than you've ever had for an interviewer, and she takes a long time staring at you. Not that you mind, like you said she's cute and having her stare at you is a great opportunity for you to stare back.

"Alright," she finally relents, "you can start Monday." You've never been hired straight out of an interview before. She stops you before you can thank her, you're reminded people in this city are weird about what you consider normal pleasantries.

There are a lot of weird rules to this job, but the owner is kind. You'd say nice, but honestly she's prickly and blunt in a way you want to call mean, but can't. Somehow the word doesn't fit right. Guarded, maybe. Terribly kind though.

"What's this?" You ask, turning over a new box of tea as she sets the electric kettle one morning.

"Strawberry tea," she tells you, "you said you liked it, and I saw it at the store, so-" she waves a hand, dismissing her own kindness.

"Oh, thanks," you tug the top open to pull a bag free for yourself.

"Don't mention it," she grumbles. It makes you smile to know she was thinking about you, that she remembered something you'd mentioned in passing.

She does that all the time, remembers things. You mention you're planning something with friends after work and she lets you go early. You say you want to try something from the new bakery that opened and the next day there are extra sweets in the back. It's strange you never see her extending the same kindness to anyone else, but with you it's like she can't be kind enough. Still prickly though.

You can't ask her about it, and she hardly lets you thank her. If you mention she's being nice she seems to go out of her way to be difficult the rest of the day. You've noticed she doesn't smile at the customers, or make jokes. She hardly seems to enjoy her work except the rare occasions you've seen her working on an arrangement. The way she smiles at a bundle of camellias makes your heart skip a beat, it's so painfully soft you feel like you've intruded on a private moment. You wish she'd smile at you like that.

The most you get are tight apologetic smiles. She presses a heavy ring into your hand after work one night --one of hers-- with a slip of paper through the middle that just reads "be safe." She looks sorry when you laugh and slip it on your finger, but somehow you do feel safer walking home. She pulls you away from a customer that's making your head spin, and sets you in the back with a tight smile and a short apology.

All that kindness compounds. Every huff when you tell a bad joke, every small compliment, every gift, every thing she remembers, it all piles and piles until you can't help but wonder if she feels something for you. It's care, she cares for you in a thousand small ways. You can't even point all of them out, and she'd hate it if you did. But there's this... thing about her that makes you want to keep quiet about it. That makes you think mentioning it will make it stop somehow.

You work with her for months. Months of your heart fluttering when she brushes your hand. Months of being cared for by someone that seems to think they have a heart made of ice. Months of being in love with this woman who is desperately trying to convince the world that she doesn't need that sort of thing.

When she rings you on your phone one morning you pick up before it can buzz twice. You know she prefers texting, so it must be important. And you want to hear her voice. You always want to hear her voice.

"Hey, don't worry about coming in today, I'm taking the day off." She tells you over the phone. You switch your phone to your other ear to get a better grip on the bag you'd been packing.

"No problem, everything alright?" You ask, switching your work lunch from the bag back to the fridge.

"Yeah, yeah, um," She hesitates and you pause, "it's my birthday, so..." She trails off, like she doesn't want to talk about it. You chew your lip, debating whether or not to wish her a happy one when she sounds like that.

"Ok," You tell her with faux brightness, you'd sort of been hoping to see her today. It finally feels like you've worked up enough courage to tell her, well to tell her something.

"I'll see you tomorrow," She finishes, hanging up before you can say good-bye.

Ok, you think maybe this is where your friends would call you obsessed, or insane. You really can't leave well enough alone, and it really won't take you long. It's maybe 15 minutes to her favorite bakery, another 10 to her flat, that leaves you at least a half hour to panic over your hasty decision making. With any luck she won't think you're a stalker that happened to check the return address on some mail she was sending out.

You spend a good ten minutes on her doorstep debating if this was the worst idea of your life before knocking. When she finally yanks the door open it's sort of comforting the way her annoyance melts to confusion on seeing you. Your eyes dart over her, taking in the haphazardly buttoned flannel and bunny slippers, you don't think you've ever seen her in anything but work clothes. Ah dammit, how are you supposed to start this?

She leans against the door frame and crosses her arms over her chest. "I thought I told you to take the day off." She reminds you. As if you showed up at the store and not her house. You hold up the patisserie box. She squints at it, "What's that?"

"Cake."

"Cake." She parrots, like she hadn't heard you right.

"It's the one with raspberry, I know that's your favorite," You tell her quickly, "figured you should have cake on your birthday, or whatever. This is-" You cut yourself off before you start digging your hole too deep, and because she's looking at you with that impossible softness. Her lips ever so slightly curved and her eyes earnest.

"Thank you," She replies quietly. Something warm and heavy settles in your chest. You don't think you've ever heard her say that before.

"Any time," You breathe, and you mean it. If she looks at you like that, you'd do anything for her.

#ghoul speaks #I love her but why??? #x reader #oc x reader #oc: liebling #you are insane and I respect that but like why this one??? #Liebling is a person whose love language is acts of service and gift giving #doomed to live in a world of fae and strings attached #reader x oc #liebling x reader