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bestiesenpai · 3 years

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Canidae - Geto Suguru

Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words

part two

Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here

(S/N) = stage name

It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.

You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.

“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.

“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.

Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.

Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.

“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.

“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.

“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.

“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.

“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.

“So, your name is (S/N)?”

“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.

Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.

“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”

“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.

“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.

“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”

“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”

A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.

“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”

It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.

Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.

“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.

Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.

Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.

As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.

You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.

Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.

Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.

Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.

It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.

But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.

And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.

“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.

Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.

Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.

With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.

Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.

You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.

But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.

“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.

“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.

“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.

“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.

“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”

“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.

“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”

“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.

“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”

“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.

“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”

“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.

Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.

“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.

“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.

“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.

Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.

“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”

“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.

“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”

“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.

Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.

Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.

“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.

“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”

“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.

“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”

“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.

It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.

“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”

“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”

Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.

“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.

“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”

“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.

“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”

A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn’t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.

Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.

“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”

“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.

“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.

“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.

“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.

“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”

“I helped him do it.”

“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.

“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.

“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.

“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.

“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.

“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”

“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.

“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”

“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.

“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.

“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.

“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.

There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.

“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.

“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.

“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”

“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.

“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”

“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.

“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.

Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.

“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.

“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”

“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”

“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.

Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.

You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.

Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.

Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.

Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.

Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.

“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.

His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.

“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.

Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.

“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”

“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.

“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.

“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.

Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.

“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”

“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”

“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.

“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.

“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.

“Suguru please-”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.

“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.

“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.

“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.

“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.

“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.

“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”

“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”

Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.

“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.

“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”

“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.

“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”

“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”

“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”

“Sugu!”

“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”

“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.

Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.

“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.

“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.

“How did you-”

“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”

The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.

Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.

“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.

“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.

Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.

“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.

“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.

“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”

#tw: pseudo-incest #tw: yandere #tw: needles #tw: drugging #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

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hi there, i saw your requests are open !! can i have one like that with cheating lucifer and reader ends dating satan but this one some other brother (up to you) cheats on fem!mc and she ends up with beel or luci (sorry i'm a simp for them 😩). i'm sorry if it's too complicated. anyway, love your writing, remember to drink water and get some sleep !!

Only The Best (Beel x GN!MC) ANGST

Word Count : 1.5K TW : cheating ; breakups ; angst ;

It was never the plan, he had never expected you to catch him, you were supposed to be on vacation in the human world. You had come back early, too early, and he didn’t have time. You were so excited to see him, of course you would be, you loved him, but it was clear that the feelings weren’t the same.

He was just getting out of bed just as you walked in, grabbing his shirt off the floor and turning around to face you as he was pulling it on. What could he say? Was there anything to really say? There was no way to fix it, it’s not like you didn’t see the other demon in his bed. They looked just as confused to see you, but they would never understand the hurt that you felt, the pain that shot through your heart as the scene in front of you was ingrained into your mind. “Y-Yer back early… Hey babe.” He quickly pulled on his shirt, putting on that smile that you had once fallen in love with as he walked over to you. Was he really going to just ignore the fact that you had walked in on him? Yes, he was, because this was Mammon, he was the master of deflection, but there was no way to ignore this, there was no way to come back from this. “What the hell were you doing?” You knew, you knew… But you needed some kind of answers, or maybe you just wanted to see what ridiculous excuse he’d make up for this. He moved closer, trying to wrap his arms around you, but you quickly pushed him back. You could smell the other demon on him, it was sickening. “Oh come on, babe. Ya know… jus’ modelin’ things. Ya know how it is…” He was so good at lying, he was able to look right at you, look you straight in the eyes as he said it. How many other times had he lied? When he said that he had to stay a little later to get extra photos at the shoot, or that it just took a little longer to get home because of traffic… everything could have been a lie. You couldn’t trust him, you’d never be able to trust him. You shook your head, pushing him away as you took another step back towards the door. “Modeling? With your clothes off? And no cameras? Not only did you cheat… but you also must think I’m some sort of idiot to believe that shit…? You’re pathetic.” You felt sick, you were absolutely disgusted. You couldn’t even stand to be around him, you didn’t want to see him, and you had been foolish enough to believe that you’d come back and see your boyfriend waiting for you with open arms… But all you got was a broken heart. You didn’t know what to do.

Just being in the house made you sick, knowing that he was still there. You knew that going out alone was dangerous, but you didn’t care, you just needed to get away. “Hey… What are you doing out of the house? You know Mammon doesn’t like you out alone.” You hadn’t even seen him there, it was like everything around you was a blur, you didn’t even know where you were going. When you looked up you saw the confusion on his face as he took in the tears that were still clinging to your cheeks. “Mammon doesn’t care…” You muttered, sniffling softly as you wiped away the tears. You didn’t want to bother Beel with your problems, but your response only had him more confused, his eyebrows pulling together in the middle as he looked at you and then at the house behind you. “What did he do?” He grabbed a napkin out of the bag of takeout that he had, quickly dabbing the tears that still hung on your lower lashes. “Actually… You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Do you want to share some of this with me?” He held up the bag, smiling softly. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you, and if talking about Mammon was upsetting, he wouldn’t mention his brother ever again. You nodded slowly, even if you weren’t exactly hungry, it was nice to just be around someone else, and you knew that Beel would do anything to protect you and your feelings. He didn’t like seeing you sad, and he surely would never do anything to be the cause of any of your sadness. He was perfect, anyone could see that, it just took Mammon to hurt you for you to see it.

“I’m going to the gym, honey. Do you want to come with me? I know you’re tired, so you can stay in bed if you want. I can bring you back some breakfast on my way home.” He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his thumb along your cheek as you gave him a sleepy smile, your eyes still closed. “Can’t you stay here with me?” You asked softly, moving your hand up to grab his hand and bring it to your lips, kissing along his fingers lazily. He chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead before getting up off the bed and pulling the blankets up to your neck. “Breakfast in bed when you get back?” He hummed in agreement, bending over to kiss you one more time before turning off the light and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He already knew that he was out there waiting for him, standing in the hallway against the wall, counting down the seconds for his little brother to walk out of the room. “Good morning, Mammon.” Beel said it just as he normally would, with a soft smile directed at his older brother as he walked down the hallway, but the greeting wasn’t said back, and his smile wasn’t mirrored. It had been like this for weeks now. Mammon glared at Beel with such hatred, such animosity, no words had to be spoken for him to know how his older brother felt, and usually no words were spoken. Today was different, Mammon wanted, no, needed to be heard this morning. “So ya think yer jus’ gonna swoop in and take my human away from me?” Beel had no time for this, he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want you to hear it either, so he walked faster, knowing that Mammon would follow behind him. “Ya can’t walk away from me, Beel. I’m talkin’ ta ya!” Mammon reached out to grab his arm, pulling at it roughly to turn his brother around. “Would you stop?” Beel groaned, pulling his arm away from Mammon and shaking his head. He didn’t want a fight, he just wanted Mammon to leave the both of you alone. “Look… You messed up, and I was there. It’s nothing against you, I’m not trying to upset you… But I want Y/N to be happy. I’m sure you want the same thing.” He sighed quietly, his heart beating faster when he thought of you, but Mammon wasn’t going to let it slide, he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. “Yer my brother! We can share things… but ya ain’t supposed’ta take ‘em and keep ‘em fer yerself!” Mammon threw his hands up in the air in agitation before dropping them back down and shoving them into his pockets. “Why ya look so mad?” Hearing Mammon talk about you like you were just some toy, some play thing that can be passed around and shared between everyone, it made Beel sick, not only that, but it made him angry. It made him angry enough to finally speak what he was feeling, no longer holding back to protect his crummy older brother's feelings anymore, feelings that shouldn’t have been protected in the first place after what he did to you. “You know what? Maybe I wasn’t supposed to take them… not at first… But if it meant protecting them from your lying, cheating self, then I’d go back and I’d do it again, and again, and again. You don’t deserve someone as good as Y/N, and you never did. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to the gym, and then I’m bringing them back breakfast. If I find out that you were anywhere near them while I’m gone, I will come home, and I will throw you down to Cerberus. Choose wisely, Mammon, because unlike you, I stick to what I say.” Mammon watched with wide eyes as Beel turned his back and walked out the door. Sadly, he knew that his brother was right. You deserved much better than him, and that’s why you had chosen Beel to go to after he had screwed up. Beel was always the best choice and Mammon was the one thing that had been keeping you from getting what you deserved.

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samadiw · 3 years

Text

Knickers - Part 03 - Yellow Knickers 💛

Yellow?

Fucking yellow?

She didnt have yellow knickers, she didnt have yellow anything and it wasnt like she could stroll into Hogsmeade and buy a pair.

Hermione pulls out her drawer of knickers, for a girl who didnt get it on much, she had a drawer full of colourful undies, one must always feel good in what covers your twat.

She gingerly picks up a scanty almost see through black pair of knickers, well, they would have to do.

Placing the pair on the bed, she reaches for her wand and waves it over the undergarment, the colour instantly changes from black to dark yellow.

Hermione grins, it looks better than she expected.

H : "Not bad..."

She flops down on the bed and thinks of Malfoy's cock for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The fucker had no shame in just whipping it out in front of her, his crass boldness turned her on, he didn't care to tip toe around her as if she would shatter into a million pieces.

Her toes curl with wanting, he would widen her nicely, she had always been told she was tight.

Damn that bloody Malfoy cock.

*******

T : "The fuck man."

B : "Don't you get sick of losing?"

T : "You're cheating, I know it."

B : "Its wizards chess, you just suck."

T : "I have to meet Luna but once I'm back, I want a bloody rematch."

B : "Let's make it interesting, care to place a bet?"

T : "10 Galleons?"

B : "My house elf makes 10 times that, you bloody cheapskate."

T : "Later."

B : "Use protection, we don't want crummy chess players being added to the population."

T : "Fuck you, Zabini."

Draco walks in towelling his hair

B : "Ah, want to grab a butter beer?"

D : "Sure, mate."

Throws a bottle at Draco and he catches it expertly.

D : "So, whats the name of the new broad?"

B : "Patil..."

D : "Nice."

B : "Is Weasley still banging Granger?"

D : "Haven't a clue."

B : "She's looking rather fine this year."

Draco tightens his hold on the bottle and takes a long swig.

Blaise didnt know the half of it.

The next morning

T : "Fuck, are you ready to leave?"

D : "Yeah, I've got some, unm...work to do."

What he wanted to do was claim his seat in the Great Hall before someone else did.

B : "Well, I'm ready, I'll come with you, Theo, do hurry up bitch."

T : "Yeah, yeah, I'm hurrying."

They walk into the Great Hall and find it half full.

A bunch of 3rd years are sitting in Draco's usual place.

The blonde towers over the younger students and hisses darkly.

D : "Move, now!"

The adolescent boys trip over themselves in their haste to get up.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy, sir."

"Right away."

"So sorry."

Blaise and Draco slide into the seat.

B : "I think the tall one wet his pants."

D : "Respect, Blaise, must be taught when young."

B : "Theres a fine line between respect and bullying."

D : "Potato, potahto."

B : "Why the fuck do you keep looking at the entrance?"

D : "For Nott, ofcourse."

Blaise raises a brow and grins.

B : "Sure you are..."

Hermione links her arm through Ron's and he whispers a funny joke into her ear, she throws her head back in laughter.

From across the hall she can feel steely grey eyes watching her every movement.

She locks eyes with the ice blonde and bites her lip.

Settling down in her usual spot, Hermione looks at Draco through hooded eyes and challenges him.

Draco smirks, fucking showtime.

He's about to drop something when a voice cuts into his train of thought.

PS : "Mr Malfoy."

Fuck..

D : "Yes, Professor Slughorn?"

PS : "Come with me, boy, I need your rather unique potion making skills."

Come on, no, no...

D : "Now?"

Slughorn raises a brow.

PS : "Yes, now..."

Draco glances at Hermione desperately.

Did the old codger have to fuck up his morning?

Draco weakly protests

D : "But sir, I'm um..hungry."

Hungry for Grangers cunt.

PS : "Now! Before I start deducting points off Slytherin."

The bloody bastard.

Draco gets to his feet

D : "Fine."

Hermione looks on in disappointment, brings her legs together and watches Malfoy trail after Slughorn miserably.

The fuming Slytherin throws a look of annoyance her way before exiting the hall after the potions master.

Draco misses his first two lessons because of Slughorn's potions emergency, he is still at it when his year piles into the classroom.

He wipes his brow and looks up, Hermione grins and pats the seat next to her suggestively.

It wouldn't do to openly sit next to the Gryffindor without a bunch of questions being asked.

Draco coughs to distract everyone else and shakes his head, Hermione frowns, rolls her eyes and pulls out her books.

PS : "Good job, Mr Malfoy."

Draco replies in frustration.

D : "Yeah, no problem, Professor."

He gathers this things and sits next to Theo.

The class drones on and by the end of it Draco has dozed off more than once.

Theo nudges him and hisses.

T : "For fuck sake, get up."

The class ends and the exhausted students leave the dungeons and make their way to lunch before the next round of classes start.

Hermione studiously avoids Draco, she wouldn't go to him, let him come to her.

Refusing to sit with her, who the bloody hell did he think he was?

She steps into the abandoned girls bathroom to fix her hair and wash the tiredness off her face.

It takes but a second.

The door opens, closes with a bang and a heavy firm body presses up against her back.

Shocked at first, Hermione reaches for her wand but she looks up to see Draco grinning smugly at her.

She turns around and shoves him

H : "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

D : "Isn't it obvious?"

H : "This is the girls lavatory."

D : "I'm aware."

H : "Get away from me, you pervert."

D : "I haven't seen your knickers today, Granger."

H : "And you're not going to see them now."

D : "Oh, I beg to differ."

He places firm hands on her waist, lifts her and settles her on the counter.

Hermione lashes out

H : "Have you lost your damn mind?"

Draco winks.

D : "Possibly."

Hermione tries to hop down.

H : "I'm not playing this bloody game."

Draco holds her in place, his long fingers brush gently along her skin and edge upwards.

He pushes up the school skirt so it bunches around her waist and stares at the bright yellow undie hugging her pussy lips, outlining every dip and curve.

Draco swallows hard, up close she looks absolutely breathtaking.

H : "There, you saw them, are you satisfied?"

D : "Immensely, yellow might be my new favourite colour."

H : "Very funny, now let me go."

D : "Not so fast, pet."

He runs a long finger down her material covered slit.

Hermione gasps and a involuntary moan escapes her full lips.

She comes back to her senses and scolds.

H : "Stop it, anyone could walk in."

Draco rolls his eye, waves his wand and distinctive click echoes through the quiet bathroom.

He grins mischievously.

D : "Problem solved."

He continues to rub enticing circles around the flesh of her inner thighs.

D : "I wonder if you taste as good as you look."

H : "You wouldn't..."

D : "Oh, I would and you will love it."

He peels down her panties, leaving a trail of fire where his fingers touch her skin.

Draco puts Hermione smooth legs over his shoulders and bends to give her exposed cunt a quick lick.

Hermione gasps as he delves inside her with the tip of his tongue.

He gives her clit a quick flick and proceeds to eat her out generously.

Holy fuck, was Malfoy licking her cunt?

Oh, so good, so bloody good.

D : "You taste divine, let's see what makes you come."

Hermione's breathing elevates, she surrenders to the blonde licking her to glory.

The noises he makes as he moves his tongue echo in her head and fuel her pending release.

H : "Malfoy...."

D : "Wet, so fucking wet."

They have 4 minutes and 26 seconds before their next class.

Draco figures he needs 3 minutes tops to fuck her with his talented tongue and feel her orgasm on it.

D : "You taste fucking amazing."

He parts her pussy lips with his tongue again and begins to lap at her eager wetness.

Moving slowly, he uses the tip of his tongue to circle her ever receptive bud.

His tongue slips and he's rewarded with a loud moan.

Ah, so that's the spot.

Draco relentlessly tongues Hermione till she squirms.

He wants to look at her, keeping up his ministrations he braved a look at the witch whispering his name.

She was shuddering above him, her body wracked in pleasure.

Head thrown back, wild curls around her face, fuck...she looked stunning.

Her eyes closed, thighs spread wide and hands massaging her breasts and pinching her nipples.

This was a sight he could get used to.

H : "There, oh fuck...don't stop..."

H : "Oh...mm...I'm going to come."

Music to his ears, he takes her swollen bud between his lips and sucks hard.

D : "Let go, baby."

Hermione lets out a cry, grabs a fistful of Draco's hair and comes crashing down around him.

Only after she rode her high and stilled did he wipe her dripping juices off his chin and get to his feet.

H : "Well, that was..."

She hopes off the counter and attempts to stand on wobbly legs.

Draco licks his cum stained lips and grins.

D : "Something else."

H : Yes, something else.

Draco muses .

D: "And we havent even kissed yet."

Post orgasm bliss aside, Hermione asks.

H : "Why didn't you sit next to me? Do you still think me dirty?"

Dirty, was the woman mad? She fucking came in his mouth and he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Draco pulls Hermione close and kisses her.

The kiss is no gentle exchange between lovers, its hard, fast and demanding

He pries her stubborn lips open with his tongue and slips it in to seek the inner sweetness, they grab onto each other fighting for dominance, until, she breaks free and surfaces for air.

Draco nibbles on the heated flesh of her neck and whispers.

D : "That's your cum you taste on my tongue, do you honestly believe your blood status means fuck all to me?"

He places a tender kiss to her lips

D : Actually, I wanted to spare you the embarrassment of mingling with an ex Death Eater.

Hermione shoves him playfully.

H : "Sod it, sit with me tomorrow."

D : "You dig your own grave, Granger."

A distinctive tent decorated Draco's trousers, he cups the bulge and adjusts his painfully hard erection.

H : "Oh, you're still hard, let me..."

D : "We don't have time."

Hermione's face falls in disappointment and Draco smirks.

D : "Don't worry about it, you can make up for it tomorrow."

Draco picks up the discarded yellow knickers and pockets them.

D : "I'm keeping these by the way."

H : "You cant be serious?"

D : "I rather enjoy the thought of you walking about the castle knickerless."

H : "You fucking smug prat."

D : "Blue is my favourite colour, Granger."

Draco lifts the spell and walks out.

Funny, she would've bet her left tit that it was black.

#dramione #draco and hermione #draco x hermione #hermione granger #draco lucius malfoy #dramionefandom #dramionefanart #dramione smut #dramione fanfic

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oatmealcrisp-freak · 3 years

Text

holy shit writing kuniharu’s second POV is actually making me cry someone please send help -sobs-

i’m not even joking. i’m legit tearing up, jaw wobbling, deep nasty breaths crying.

okay.

On the subject of Kuniharu Saiki

Kuniharu DOES love his son. He does help his son in invaluable ways, teaching his son responsibility and kindness (albeit ofc sometimes in a backwards ‘what not to do’ kind of way).

Kuniharu Saiki genuinely wants his son to succeed. He wants his son to grow up to be a responsible, good person. He’s a little skewed, yes, and the way he puts it doesn’t make it very respectable, but he’s honestly concerned for his son’s well being. He wants his son to have friends, and learn, and love, and grow.

But he also insults his son on the routine, uses him and pressures him to do morally wrong things constantly because it’s convenient for him (one of the first things he does in his introduction is encourage Kusuo to rob a bank and, unlike when Kurumi tells Kusuo to kill his dad, this is shown to be a regular thing for Kuniharu), and uses him as a punching bag.

Likewise, Kusuo is absolutely vicious right back. He insults and dehumanizes his father constantly. It’s funny to him. He loves his dad so much that he’ll harrass his grandfather for harrassing Kuniharu, but he’ll also say just the most awful things right to his dad’s face. While I don’t fully blame a teenager for lashing out at a person who’s been trying to hurt their feelings to make them capitulate from day one, words matter, and Kusuo doesn’t need to bully his dad. It’s absolutely possible for children to bully their parents, and that is what he does. He’s old enough to be responsible for the choices he makes. We can tell, because he’s our POV character, that a lot of what he says are jokes. He does have a dark sense of humor. But jokes that hurt people’s feelings is bullying. What you say to people matters. Kuniharu hurts his son’s feelings. Kusuo hurts his dad’s feelings. It’s a really nasty and unhealthy cycle.

Like imagine dropping a bed on your dad just because he asked you to do something while you were watching TV, eesh lol and while Kuniharu did try to step on his teeny tiny son...Kusuo, was stepping on your dad’s face after kicking him to the floor reeeeeaaaaaally necessary?

(I do appreciate that Kusuo just straight up used his dad’s crummy taste in TV to turn it to something his ace homo leaning self would prefer - men’s butt exercises. You’d “rather” watch that huh. HUH.)

In the text of the fic, Aren tells Kusuo he did nothing wrong. Kusuo’s response to that is ‘you’re biased’. He tries to make amends with his dad in his own way through his art and he knows he could be a better son. He knows their relationship is strained. Kusuo gives what he gets.

His friends don’t know this. They only see an adult picking on a kid who’s already going through it, and who is their friend who they see the best of more often than not - so yeah. They’re VERY biased. Kurumi and Kusuke have witnessed it but they’re both focused on Kusuo because Kusuo is literally bleeding internally and even though it’s largely thanks to Kusuo’s own negligence, Kuniharu put him on the bridge he fell off of, Kuniharu is an adult, Kuniharu has been really shitty and manipulative (in canon and in fic), so it’s Kuniharu they’re blaming but NONE of them are innocent. The blame is rightfully placed but they all acknowledge they’ve fucked up too. Kuniharu, spoiled brat that he is, is just the last to acknowledge it.

And, molotow spoiler alert, he’s not wrong either - Kusuo is going to be fine, with or without action. In fact it’s gonna be outside interference that kinda kills him for a bit.

Now. To read too deeply into a gag-manga character. Kuniharu is shown to be popular in highschool. When he tells this to Kusuo in the accidental time travel chapter, he does exaggerate but not everything is shown to be untrue. He is friends with a man named Kimutaku, he was attractive enough to get noticed by Kurumi even when he was creeping on her. Also, he gives very good advice to his mangaka’s team members, showing that he knows what he’s doing (when he’s not getting egotistical and derailing them) and that he’s intelligent. He was able to drag a massively heavy piece of equipment into his house to attempt to massage his son’s shoulders, and his home has a work out room. I think Kuniharu was absolutely exaggerating a bit, but also I think there’s truth to it.

(Less different than you’d expect!)

I think that going from that, to this and this

would drive anyone fricking nuts, never mind the psychological pressure of constantly changing jobs and having to take jobs at black companies where the bosses actually assault him in part because of shit like this.

Kuniharu has a right to be concerned about his son. His son is a dick to him, and only started really changing after he almost killed four people incl. Akechi, which Kuniharu would know about because they moved right after. However, Kusuo’s maturity is something that Kuniharu honestly doesn’t get to see in canon. He doesn’t see how much Kusuo helps his friends, he doesn’t see Kusuo help and save animals and strangers, he doesn’t see Kusuo warning Mikoto that there are consequences to helping people with their powers and they’re not always good ones. He’s also shown to take for granted and not really notice all the ways Kusuo helps him, and helps out around the house because that’s the norm - we don’t always recognize something when it’s an everyday thing, gratitude takes effort.

(Thank your parents when they clean house and make you dinner kids, they’ll appreciate it so much to know you’re grateful)

He gets bullied physically and mentally at his job. When he comes home it’s to children don’t respect him and to a wife that gets scammed to the tune of millions of yen on the regular. He went from a reasonably well off and privileged youth to being the butt of the joke everywhere he went.

Kuniharu tries. But his stress comes out in the wrong ways. It doesn’t justify the wrongs he does in a world played straight where feelings get hurt, not at all, but he genuinely cares. I do try to demonstrate that in the fic. He thanks Kusuo, he buys Kusuo a present (partial bribe yes but also partial genuine olive branch), he thanks Kusuo’s friends for sticking around when his son is being a brat (which he was), he capitulates because he’s told his son is at risk of literal expulsion and that they might press charges, meaning a criminal record, just a semester before he graduates high school. He doesn’t have Kusuo’s telepathy to know that’s a bluff.

Kuniharu is a man with an inferiority complex the size of North America and it leads him to do incredibly scummy things, but he’s not the villain.

No, that’s Yoshida, who takes advantage of a crumbling household pillar the instant that he sees it.

#freaks fics #freaks essays #long post #i needed something to distract me from crying so i did this lol #this entire family needs therapy :/

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airplanned · 3 years

Text

Guardian!Zelda AU- part 17

Part 1...Part 16, Part 17

***

Link was convinced that he could reach the far off island. It would just take a while.

There was no way they would sink into the ocean and die. No way at all.

There wasn't a lot of room on the raft, seeing as he needed to flail a korok leaf around. He took one side of the raft and the guardian took the other. Her claws hung down into the water, wrapping under the raft to cling to the bottom. It probably gave their raft a bit of a drag and slowed them down a bit, but he wasn't going to complain. The sail flapped against the side of her head with every burst of wind, but she was too scared of falling off to scoot away. He couldn't figure out a better way for them to be situated.

Maybe if he'd grabbed a second raft and lashed them together. But he wasn't convinced of his knotting abilities enough to trust that. What if the guardian came loose and floated away?

After an hour, he took a break, flopping onto the raft to pull out his map and show the guardian their progress. She looked over his shoulder and gonged at him, sounding uncomfortable, but relieved by their progress.  

After the second hour, the guardian was feeling more secure. When he flopped down on the raft, out of breath, she was looking around at the scenery.  

"Enjoying your trip?"

She gonged, then startled him by shooting three short laser bursts into the water. He sat bolt upright. A moment later, three fish plopped to the surface. He gaped at them, then turned to her.

Gong, she said.

He stared at her. "If I die getting those, it's your fault."

Gong.

He dove into the water, gathered the fish, and swam back, leaving a puddle of water on his side of the raft.  

"You know I can't cook these now.”

She did not mind.

The guardian had difficulties with hinoxes. They were too big for her to wrestle, and strong enough that he feared one would rip off one of her arms. A blast could stun a hinox enough for Link to rush in and get a bunch of hits in, but the monster would recover before she could charge another blast, and then she'd have to run away or get picked up and thrown. Link would have to scramble for a metal block or something to keep the monster distracted, wearing it down until she could hit it with another blast that would take it out.

They'd faced a couple hinoxes on their travels and found them to be more trouble than they were worth. Lately, they'd been slipping around any they found. But the hinox on Eventide needed to be dealt with.

They crouched in the woods, watching it sleep.

"I'll try to sneak up and get the ball. You stay here." She shook her head and gonged anxiously.  

He looked around. "Okay. You climb up there. Out of range. If something goes wrong, you snipe it, get its attention."

She didn't like that plan, but it was the best they were going to do.

Just as predicted, it did not go well. The hinox woke when Link was half way up its side. It slapped at him, and he went rolling. The monster loomed over him, raising a hand to flatten him when an explosion ripped the air at the monster's back. The hinox cried out and turned, and Link rushed in to whack at its legs, which drew attention back to him. The hinox bounced, ready to sit on him, and he rushed away. Not fast enough, as it clipped his ankle, but enough that he wasn't killed immediately.  

He just wasn't making enough progress with the crummy weapons he'd found on the island. He felt horribly exposed in his nakedness.

Another explosion as the guardian hit the hinox again, straight in the eye this time. When it was done clutching its eye and crying, it stood, heading towards the guardian, uninterested in the small amounts of damage Link was doing against its legs. He hadn't noticed before, but there was a ramp up to where the guardian was camped, and the hinox was going to reach her in a matter of seconds. Fear clenched at his stomach.

Link burst off the ground with Revali's gale, and he pulled out his bow. He was going to aim for the hinox, but then he saw the dynamite. He tucked away his bow and landed by the guardian, who was still charging her laser.  

He pulled out his bow again and jerked his head at the barrels. She grabbed one and threw it, as hard and high as she could. Just before it hit the hinox's face, he lit it up. And then they were running to the next barrel. Boom. The next barrel. Boom. And then her laser was ready, and the hinox was falling. He was breathing hard, and spun to the guardian to check on her. She prodded at his ankle and he hissed.

She dragged him up to ride on her head and set off to retrieve the ball.

"I've got bad news," he said.

Gong?

"When we're done here, we're going to have to get back on the raft to go back."

Gong!

***

Part 18

#Zelda #My fic #Guardian!Zelda

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derekfoxwit · 3 years

Text

Doctor Dorpden’s Critical Tips of Prestige

Note: This post was made with satirical intentions in mind. I’m only emphasizing because I’ve had a couple of comments on previous joke posts I’ve did take it seriously. With that said, here we go.

Tip 1: For starters, remember that when looking at the work, if the Mystic Knee twitches fast enough to punch a hole in a wall, this suggests that the work should be near the lowest of the low. No further development of opinion is needed.

Tip 2: For an equal degree of sophistication, give the warm comfort of nostalgia at least 5 times more chances than the new thing that MAY seem actually poggers.

Tip 3: If you have the anecdote of encountering shitty fans, then use them as a scapegoat for the show they flaunt over being shitty. Clearly, they’re always making the show the way it is.

Tip 4: If you haven’t heard much about a newer film or show you’re yet to watch, there’s an 85% chance that film or show is actually not worth your time. The Father (2020) isn’t as widespread as Joker (2019) for a reason.

Tip 5: At this point, just go for the Asian Artist Dick. I’m actually in the mood to see merit in that because I want to look edgy against cute doodles. Stop attacking Uzaki-Chan, you cowards!

Tip 6: Avoid the electronic tunes. They’ll make you smell like a bum, for there’s no structural in a music album that’s nothing but wubs.

Tip 7: If you see a Tweet that looks dumb, use it as a means of generalizing all the fans of a work as sharing that same opinion.

Tip 8: If the cartoon I’m given doesn’t provide me with mature ideas such as slicing an Arbok in half or fake boobs, then the cartoon might as well be on the same level as Teletubbies.

Tip 9: You know the music is (c)rap when it brings up drugs, regardless of lyrical context.

Tip 10: Raw mood is the indicator of quality cartooning. If you’re quick to assume the worst in the newest HBO Max original cartoon, then you got thyself a stinker. Same thing if you were super bummed out when watching a new thing, regardless of anecdotal context.

Tip 11: When you’re not given continuous throwbacks, ensure you’re as reductive and over-generalizing about the works shown as possible.

Tip 12: If your hazy and imperfect as hell recollection of a children’s film, whether it’s Wall-E or Lilo & Stitch, would describe said film as “too sugary” or “key-waving schlock”, then that HAS to be the case. No meat on that bone whatsoever.

Tip 13: Simpler, more graphic style that isn’t as realistic as old-school Disney or Anime? You got yourself a lazy style with zero passion put into it.

UPA? Who’s THAT?!

Tip 14: Don’t trust anyone saying that western children’s cartoons had any form of artistic development after 2008 (with, like, TWO exceptions). If it did, why didn’t we go from stealing organs in a 2001 cartoon to showing opened stomachs in a 2021 cartoon?

Tip 15: Big booba is always important to the strong female character’s quality.

Tip 16: Only MY ships count, for they provide me with a feeling of intelligence.

Tip 17: “PG-13″ and “R” rating just simply mean you’re not caring for expressing themes in a sophisticated manner. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 18: In this age of smelly radicals, “Death of the Author” is more important than ever. Without it, this’ll imply that a classic like The Matrix was secretly toxic, due to what the Wachowskis have to say about it being an “allegory of trans people.”

Tip 19: Turn the fandoms you hate into your torture porn. Ask in Tweets to Retweet one sentence that’d “trigger” them. Go out of your way to paint all of them as blind consoomers. That’ll show them, and it’ll show how much more intelligent you are compared to those clowns.

Tip 20: Whatever the Mystic Knee dictates upon the first viewing of a work is what shall indicate the full structural extent of the film.

Tip 21: The mindset of a 2000s edgelord is one that actually understands the artistry of the medium of animation. Listen to that crazy but ingenious man.

Tip 22: Because sheer ambition makes me feel manly, the high pedestal you bestow upon a cartoon work should be based mostly on the mere mention or mere suggestion of serious topics. This means that pure comedy is smelly.

Tip 23: Is the new work tackling subjects that you’ve loved a childhood work of yours for covering? Just assume it’s super bare-bones in that case compared to the older case, for there’s nothing the older work can do to truly prove itself otherwise. Seriously, Letterboxd. Stop giving any 2010s cartoon anything above a 4/5

Tip 24: If the Mystic Knee is suggesting that the work is crummy, then consider any explanation off the top of your head for why the work in question is crummy.

Tip 25: Sexual and gender identity is inherently political, so don’t focus on them in the story. It’s no wonder why Full Metal Alchemist has caught on more than the She-Ra reboot.

Tip 26: Since I got bothered by a random butt monkey type character in a crummy cartoon, I’m now obligated to assume that having a butt monkey will only harm the writing integrity of the cartoon.

Seriously, Mr. Enter....what?!

Tip 27: We’re at a point where pure comedy for a kids’ cartoon is doing nothing but dumbing down the children. Like seriously...... I doubt Billy and Mandy would ever use farts as a punchline, unlike these newer kids comedies.

Tip 28: The difference between the innuendo in kids’ cartoons I grew up on and the ones Zootopia made is the sense of prestige they give me. Just take notes from the former instead.

Tip 29: Wanna make a work of artistic merit? Just take notes from the stuff I whore out to. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 30: Always remember this golden rule: If the newer work, or a work you’ve recently experienced the first time, was truly great, why isn’t it providing the exact emotions from your younger, more impressionable years?

Tip 31: If the Mystic Knee aims to break the bones of a character doing certain things (.i.e. having body count of thousands; lashing out to character; etc.), that means the character is bad and deserves no redemption.

Tip 32: If you want me to believe there’s any intrigue or depth in your antagonist, give them redemption, for I am in need of that sorta thing being spelled out. Looking at you, Syndrome. Should’ve taken notes from Tai Lung.

Tip 33: In a case where you’re going “X > Y” (.i.e. manga compared to western comics), ALWAYS CHERRY PICK! Use the recent controversies of the “Y” item while pretending that the “X” item has never had anything of the sort.

Tip 34: BEFORE you bring up those comments that shat on the original Teen Titans cartoon back when it was new, whether for making Starfire “more PC” or whatever.......the DIFFERENCE between them and me is that THEY were just bad faith fools that couldn’t see true majesty out of blind rage. I, however, am truly certain that calling any western TV cartoon from 2014-onward a work that transcends its generation suggests a destruction of the medium.

Tip 35: Based on fandom growth, it shows that any newer show isn’t being watched much by kids, but rather loser adults that act like children. Therefore, there’s more prestige in what I grew with.

Tip 36: The focus on children is bad at this point since the children of today have attention spans that flies would have.

Tip 37: A select few screenshots (or even one) of either a less elaborate attacking animation, less realistic game graphics, or a less on-model image in a cartoon indicates EVERYTHING about the work’s quality.

Tip 38: Consuming or writing media where characters go through constant suffering is little more than gaining pleasure out of it. YOU SICKOS!

Looking at you, Lily Orchard!

Tip 39: Whether it’s a sexual awakening story or just simply a romance, focus on a character being lesbian, trans, bi, etc., then it shouldn’t be in a kids’ work. It’s too spicy for them by default. Kids don’t want romance anyway.

Tip 40: The very idea of a western cartoon with no full-blown antagonist (i.e. Inside Out) is a destruction of animated artistry. Sorry, but it’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 41: Unless it’s my fluffy pillow, such as Disney’s Robin Hood, it should be obligated to assume the inserting of anthros is only there to pleasure the furries. Looking at YOU, Zootopia!

Tip 42: With how rough and rash The Beast was, it shows that he was more of an abusive lover. Therefore, I refuse to believe that Beauty and the Beast has any of the meticulous moral writing that most of Disney’s other 90s films has.

Tip 43: When you suggest one work should’ve “taken notes” from another work in order to do better, BE VAGUE! Those who agree will be shown to be geniuses.

Tip 44: Remember how morally grey Invader Zim was? That really goes to show how little the Western Animation scene has been trying since that show. Really should just be taking notes from that series (and of course anime).

Tip 45: Even if I have a radar that clearly indicates such, hiding the item I look for inside an enemy is always bad, for I refuse to believe it would be inside the enemy.

Goddamn it, Arin!

Tip 46: People struggle understanding your gender identity or pronouns? All there is to see in that is a giant cloud of egotism that reads “My problems” zapping another smaller cloud that reads “other people’s problems”. Seriously, kids are starving, so WHAT if you identity confused someone. Grow a spine!

Tip 47: Stop pretending that adaptations should colorize how a story or comic series should be defined. No way in FUCK can a cartoon or film incarnation become the definitive portrayal of my precious superhero idol.

Tip 48: Enough with your precious “limited animation” techniques, YOU WESTERN HACKS! All you’re doing is admitting to sheer laziness and lacking artistic integrity. Now if you excuse me, I’ll be watching more anime, since that gives me a sense of prestige.

Tip 49: If getting five times more detail than the 2D animated visuals have requires someone getting hurt, so be it. No pain, no gain after all.

Tip 50: Yes, I genuinely struggle to believe there’s this majestic level of layered material without having the most immediate yet still vague re-assurance practically yelling in my face. But that’s STILL the work’s fault, not mine.

Tip 51: Every Klasky-Csupo cartoon has more artistic integrity than any of them cartoons with gay lovers such as Kipo or the Netflix She-Ra show.

Tip 52: If Sergio Pablos’ Klaus is anything to go by, we have no excuse to utilize those smelly as fuck digital animation “styles” found on Stinky Universe, Suck-Ra or Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turds.

Tip 53: Stop projecting your orientation onto works of actual talent. Seriously, how does Elton John’s I’m Still Standing expel ANY rainbow flag energy?

Tip 54: Hip hop and electronica have been the destruction of music, especially the kind that’s actually organic and not farting on the buttons of a beeping or drumming gadget.

Tip 55: The audience for cartoons has become significantly less clear over the years. We should just go back to Saturday mornings of being sold toys or shit kids actually want.

Tip 56: PSAs for kids shouldn’t be about ‘woke’ content. They should be actual problems such as doing drugs; not playing with knifes / outlets / matches; or acceptance.

Tip 57: The instant you realize a detail in a childhood work that’s better understood as an adult, you’re forced to paint that work as the most transcendent thing in the world. It’s just THAT simple until I dictate otherwise.

Tip 58: Before you lash out on ALL rich people, remember this: #Not All Rich People.

Tip 59: There’s nothing to gain out of the (c)rap scene other than becoming a spiteful, gun-wielding thug that sniffs weed for breakfast.

Tip 60: Since the Mystic Knee told me to get anal about prom episodes in several gay cartoons, this shows that writing about one’s younger experiences just makes you look pathetic.

Tip 61: Another smelly thing about Zootopia is how it was painting a police chief as stern and exclusive. #Not All Chiefs

Tip 62: Me catching a glimpse of Grave of the Fireflies as a kid and turning out fine shows that you may as well show kids more adult works without worry. No amount of psychological questions being asked will suggest otherwise.

Tip 63: There’s a reason why the Mystic Knee keeps leaning more toward the 90s and early 2000s than most decades. That knee KNOWS where there’s a sense of true refinement.

Tip 64: The BIG difference between rock and electronica? Steward Copeland actually DRUMS. All that the likes of Burial, Boards of Canada, Depeche Mode and several others did was push drum buttons.

Tip 65: One exception to the golden nostalgia is when the work in question doesn’t stuff your face with fantastical, bombastic stories. At which point, there can only be rose-colored blinds covering Nickelodeon’s Doug. Nothing of merit or personal resonance to be found.

Tip 66: Remember that the sense of nuance in the work comes down to there being everything including the kitchen sink, whether it involves multiple geographic landscapes; giving us hundreds of characters; etc. Only through the extremes will I be able to tell there is nuance.

Tip 67: Once you see a joke that has an involvement with sexual or violent content, just ignore the full picture and just reduce it to having nothing to it but “sex, violence, gimme claps.”

PKRussel has entered the chat

Tip 68: With all the SJWs messing up the art of comedy, lament the times where you could be called a comic genius, NOT a monster, for shouting out the word “STAB,” calling a gay weird, painting Middle Easterns as inherently violent, etc.

Tip 69: Guitar twang will always win out over (c)rap beats. There’s a reason your grandma is more likely to listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd than Kendrick Lamar.

Tip 70: Once the Mystic Knee notices a lack of squealing at the video game with linearity, that shows there’s more artistry in going full-blown open world.

Tip 71: Related to Tips 66 and 68, ensure your comedy gets as much information and mileage out of each individual skit as possible. EMPHASIZE if you need to. Continuously spout out your quirky phrase of “STAB” if needed.

Tip 72: Based on the onslaught of TV shows with many seasons and episodes, animated or otherwise, it shows that there’s more worth going for that than simply having a miniseries or a 26-episode anime.

Tip 73: Building off of the previous tip, you’re better off squeezing and exhausting every little detail and notable characterization rather than keeping anything simple and possibly leaving a stone unturned, especially if there’s supposed to be a story.

Tip 74: Playing through the fan translation of Mother 3 made me realize how much some newer kids’ works just try too hard to get serious. Why even make the kids potentially think about the death of a family member?

Tip 75: The fear I had over Sid’s toys from the first Toy Story and similar anecdotal emotions are the be-all indicators of what kind of show or film is fitting for the children.

Tip 76: Seeing this British rapper chick have a song titled “Point and Kill” just further exemplifies the fears I’ve had about rappers being some of the most harmful folks ever.

Tip 77: The problem with attempting to make a more “relatable” She-Ra is that kids aren’t looking for relatability. They want the escapism of buff fighters or something similar. This is why slice-of-life is so smelly.

Tip 78: Based on seeing the rating of “PG-13″ or “R,” I can tell that the dark humor is little more than “hur dur sex and guns.” Given the “TV-Y7 FV” rating of Invader Zim, the writers should’ve taken notes from that instead just so I can sense actual prestige.

Tip 79: The original He-Man has more visual intrigue in its animation than any of those smelly glorified doodles found in the “styles" of the 2010s and early 2020s.

Tip 80: It’s always the fault of the game that my first guess (that I refuse to divert from) on how I have to go through an obstacle won’t work.

Tip 81: Zootopia discussing prejudice ruins the majestic escapism I got from my precious childhood films from 1991-2004. Them kids might as well be watching the news. Now to watch some Hunchback after I finish these tips.

Tip 82: There is no such thing as an unreasonable expectation, and there’s especially no wrong way to address the lack of met expectations! For example, if you expect some early 2010s cartoon on the Disney Channel to be a Kids X-Files, yet you get moments such as some girl getting high on stick dipping candy, you got the right to paint the worst out of that show for not being “Kids’ X-Files.”

Tip 83: Related to my example for Tip 82, if you get the slightest impression of something being childish, you know you got yourself a children’s work that does little than wave keys and has basically nothing substantial for them. In this situation, those malfunctioning robots found in Wall-E are the guilty party.

Tip 84: Without the extensive dialogue that I’m used to getting, how can one say for certain there was any amount of characterization in the title character of Wall-E?

Tip 85: Ever noticed yourself gradually being less likely to expect an upcoming work or view a work you’re just consuming as “the next best thing”? That’s ALWAYS the fault of smelly “artists” (hacks really) and their refusal to give a shit.

Tip 86: It’s obligatory for your lead to be explicitly heroic just so there is this immediate re-assurance that they’re a good one.

Tip 87: Without the comforting safety net of throwbacks, one cannot be for certain that there has been an actual evolution of a series or the art of animation and video games.

Tip 88: Don’t PSA kids on stuff they give zero fucks about. That means no gender identities or pronouns, race, etc.

Tip 89: Don’t listen to Mamoru Hosoda saying that anime women tend to be “depicted through a lens” of sexual desire. He’s just distracting from the superior prestige found in anime women.

Tip 90: If you’re desperate to let others know that your talking points are reasonable, just repeat them over and over with little expansion on said talking points.

Tip 91: 7 or more seasons of art is better than 26 episodes of art. EVERY TIME!

Tip 92: Always remember to continuously talk up the innuendo and mature subject matter of the childhood work as the most prestigious, transcendent thing of all time. With that in mind, there’s a high chance that your favorite childhood work will be better known than Perfect Blue (1997), and there’s likely a reason for that.

Tip 93: An art style that gives many characters relatively more realistic arm muscle details will always shine through more than any sort of art style done for “simplicity” (laziness, really).

Tip 94: Seeing a few (like, even VERY FEW) people show more enthusiasm for Steven Universe over Invader Zim really shows the lower bar that has been expected out of the western animation scene compared to anime.

Tip 95: Electronic music makes less conventional time signatures cheap as hell. REAL music like rock makes them the exact opposite.

Tip 96: If your Mystic Knee suggests that the 90s cartoon being viewed doesn’t showcase a vague sense of refinement or artistic integrity, then every related assumption of yours is right. EVERY TIME!

Tip 97: Doing everything and the kitchen sink for one series or movie shows a better sense of refinement and prestige than any form of simplicity. THIS includes character design as well.

Tip 98: The advent of that Star Wars: Visions anime really shows just how stinky western cartoons have become.

Tip 99: For those wondering, no, Europe isn’t being counted in my definition of “western animation”. Doing so is a complete disservice to prestige.

Tip 100: If even less than half of these tips aren’t being considered, you can kiss that prestige badge goodbye. After all, I SAID SO!

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durmstrange · 4 years

Text

To Win a War - Fred Weasley

Welcome to my new Fred blurb!! Enjoy!

word count: 1,532

After the twins had left you at Hogwarts to pursue their dream, you were not prepared to receive the repercussions. Professor Dolores Umbridge was simply infuriated with you, despite the fact that you were not involved in the least bit with their foolishly brilliant plan, which you were moderately hurt by, but she insisted that you were a part of it and took all her anger out on you.

Your hand was etched with words that you could no longer see, since they had become jumbled and muddled by the overuse. Just about your entire hand seemed to be permanently bruised from the abuse, and you were seriously debating on murdering the twins once you saw them again, if you ever saw them again.

You were not a fair flyer, and could not leave like them, and you could not run away because you had nowhere to go yet, so you were quite literally stuck until the term was over.

In complete honesty, you felt betrayed by Fred and George. You had spent the last three years of your life living with the Weasleys at the Burrow after your parents were killed in a muggle car accident, and you were under the impression that you were practically the Weasley triplets now, but now you could see that it was quite the opposite.

They left you here, without even saying goodbye, let alone telling you of their plan to explode fireworks all over the school. Did they even care for you anymore?

What made matters worse was the fact that Fred was your boyfriend of years, and he left you without so much as a warning or explanation. You were nothing to him, and you took it as his way of breaking up with you.

In the time they had left you, you had become depressed. You mailed Mrs. Weasley with a pleading note to gather your things from the Burrow and to have them ready for you to leave when you were out of school, for you were planning on getting your own apartment. You left out of the note that you would no longer be a burden to her family, who you had thought would take anyone with good intentions in. Apparently, you were not good enough for that.

When classes finally ended, and it was out and confirmed that Lord Voldemort was back, you were ridiculously relieved. You could go on your own now, way from the people in your life who would just hurt you and leave you, even after all the literal hell you had been through.

Before you knew it, you were descending from the Hogwarts Express for the last time, a free adult now, and your head was low as you held your cat tightly in your arm and made it towards the trunks that were being unloaded at incredible speeds.

You grabbed your trunk in your hand, ready to apparate to the Burrow to gather the rest of your things to take to the Leaky Cauldron to stay, but before you could, another hand landed over yours and pulled your hand from your luggage and snatched your cat from your arms. “No,” you shouted, but when you looked up, you were in the middle of apparating, and feeling rather sick.

You landed on your knees, breathing steadily to keep from being sick on the wood floors you landed upon, but you couldn’t wait long. You sprung to your feet, wand pointed forward with a sick look on your face.

The rock that was your heart sunk through your body and onto the floor as your eyes landed upon the smirking and humor-filled Fred Weasley. Upon sight of him, you grabbed the nearest bin, and did become sick in it, rather viciously. “Does the sight of me make you that sick, love?” Fred asked you as he approached you, removing the hair from your face and holding it back as you vomited into the bin once more.

Fred watched as you sat on the floor, your head in your hands, and your body began shaking. He crouched down, moving your hair once more to look at you. “Are you crying? Why are you crying?” Fred began questioning as you felt worse and worse about yourself.

“I didn’t want to see you, Fred,” you finally choked out, standing on your feet and pushing his arms away from you. You looked around the flat you were in, and it was quite new and neat, but you ignored it as you moved through the place to find a restroom. Once you did, you used your hands to cup water and clean your mouth out quickly.

Fred followed on your heels, confused. “You didn’t want to see me?” He asked you sadly as you wiped your face on whoever’s towel it was in whoever’s flat you were in.

You looked at him, pitiful and angry. You could not believe he could be so dumb as to now knowing why you were so angry with him. “You left me! You left me at the godforsaken castle to reap the consequences of your childish and stupid actions, Fred! My hand will be scarred forever because of it! And it wouldn’t have even been so horrible if you had just told me goodbye or given me an explanation as to why you did not love my any longer!” You voice raised into a shout, unaware and careless as to who else could possibly hear you. “You left me there! Defenseless, without the only two people who make my life bearable, Fred!” You cried to him, your tears flushing down your face in a continuous stream.

For what felt like hours, Fred was silent as he took your angry words in. Finally, you watched a seldom tear fall from his eyes as he moved forward, taking you into his arms carefully. You didn’t fight him as he held you tightly, stroking your hair. “I did not tell you goodbye because I knew that I would not be able to leave you if I did,” Fred began, and you opened your mouth to speak, but Fred put a finger to your lips. “George and I left to start Weasley Wizard Wheezes. I left you, so I could get us a place of our own. And here we are, if you’d like to stay. Otherwise, I understand if you’d like to leave. I have been a pretty crummy boyfriend,” he admitted to you sadly. His words sunk into your flesh and you felt so weak at his words. They were so meaningful and so sincere, and you felt horrible for lashing out on him the way you did. You pulled back, so you were able to look at Fred’s face, and he held emotions you were foreign to all over his features. You moved to speak again, but Fred beat you to it. “And I never even gave it thought that you would be blamed for our actions, love. If I had thought of that, I would not have even risked it. Not ever,” he promised you as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Fred took your hurt hand into his own, examining the bruising and relatively new cuts and scarring all over it, and ran his thumb over your injuries so slowly. “You still love me?” You asked him quietly, almost awestruck at how forgiving he was about your words.

“More than ever.” Fred murmured to you. “Loving you is like winning a war, and I am not going to just give that up, love,” he teased you as a small smile formed on your lips. “What do you say? Will you give me one more chance?” Fred asked you.

With a small smile, you gave a short nod as you leaned your head on his chest. You were still furious, upset, and hurt by his actions, but he still loved you, and you were able to forgive. “I suppose I can,” you murmured to him.

Fred chuckled softly, moving you to be arms length from him, and stepping back from you. “Then, I am able to ask you this. (Y/N), will you let me make this last chance last forever by marrying me?” He asked as he lowered himself onto one knee, digging a ring box from his pocket and opening it to you.

You sucked a hard breath in, eyes widening as the words fell from Fred’s lips. You looked at the ring he held out to you, unique and absolutely gorgeous, and more tears form in your eyes. “Oh, Fred,” you whispered. “Of course, I will,” you squeaked out as he smiled wider than you had ever seen, taking the ring from the box and slipping it onto your finger.

You threw your arms around him as he stood up, picking you up off the ground, and burying his face into your neck. “Now, I have no idea if that is the right finger I just put it on, but it is fine. All that matters are that I have you, forever, no matter how stupid I get.” He told you as you laughed loudly.

“Always, you fool.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #Fred Weasley fanfction #Fred Weasley one shot #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley oneshot #fred weasley x you #hogwarts #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Harry Potter fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

May I request Danbrey 53? NSFW or SFW is up to you! :o)

Here you go! I went SFW.

53. your scream woke up the entire building because you’re so damn excited about the first snow fall and i’m going to give you a piece of my mind except you’re really cute

The shriek wakes Dr. Harris Bonkers up first; it’s his manic sprint about his cage, overturning his food dish and sending Aubrey out of the desk chair in which she fell asleep while definitely, totally, for sure studying for these finals.

“What the fuck?” She looks at Dr. Harris Bonkers. Dr. Harris Bonkers honks, enraged by the noise.

She gets the crummy dorm window open enough to see a figure on the lawn in front of the building, jumping up and down with glee. The green jacket and rose-colored beanie obscure any relevant details save for the fact they’re a rude, loud jerk.

Dr. Harris bonkers honks again, thumping his back feet and darting into a cardboard box in his cage, nose wiggling worriedly.

“That does it.” She zips up her boots, grabs her coat and tromps down stairs, prepared to give the person a piece of her mind for frightening the rabbit.

The sound of boots on snow makes the figure turn in the pool of streetlight. Blonde hair falls past her shoulders, her beautiful, perfect face is covered in freckles, and Aubrey can’t remember what she’s mad about.

“Hi?” The blonde waves with a confused, but still friendly, expression.

“Hi.” Aubrey can’t make her fingers work

“Did you need something?”

Your number?

She waves away the thought long enough to speak, “oh, um, yeah. I, um, heard you screaming and came down to see what was wrong.”

“Ohmygod” Mittened hands cover her mouth, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think I was that loud.”

“I mean, you might not be? Dr. Harris Bonkers is the one who heard you, and he has big ears.”

“Is that your...boyfriend?”

“My bunny. I’m in a single and snuck him in the first week of the semester. If my RA’s noticed, he hasn’t said anything, so I think I’m in the clear and, um, yeah. He knocked his dish over.”

“Oh no, poor thing. I, uh, I didn’t meant to scare anyone. I just got so excited over this.” She waves her hands through the air.

“Nighttime?”

“No, silly, the snow. It’s the first snow of the season and I’ve never been in the snow before.”

“Like, never ever?” Aubrey turns her eyes to the sky, watching the flakes pirouette to the ground.

“Nope” the other woman sighs, “It looks just like it does in the movies, don’t you think? All pure white and blanketing the plants and rooftops, reflecting the lights, making the whole world seem peaceful. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Aubrey watches her upturned face, the snowflakes catching in her lashes and her nose.

“It really is.”

The other woman rubs her arm, shyly, “sorry, didn’t mean to ramble.”

“It’s okay, I ramble all the time, about all kinds of stuff, there’s just a lot to think about and look and um, look at, did I already say that?”

Right, she rambles when she’s nervous, too.

A laugh, brighter than a firework, “Glad to know I’m not alone. I, uh, should probably go back to my room, but do you want me to come apologize to Dr. Harris Bonkers first?”

“Yes, I very much want that. I’m Aubrey” she holds out her hand and the blonde takes it.

“Dani. Lead the way, Aubrey.”

Two minutes later Aubrey unbundles herself as Dani crouches on the floor, offering her hand to the skeptical rabbit.

“I’m sorry, that noise must have scared you and you were just trying to keep Aubrey safe by waking her up. Oh, hi there.” She giggles as a fuzzy head emerges from the cage, sharp little feet resting on her knees as the rabbit headbutts her hand.

“Aww, it’s nice to meet you too.”

Aubrey practically has hearts for pupils as she looks at them.

“Do you, um, want some tea? I have a little stash for when it gets cold.”

“I’d love some. Uh, aren’t electric kettles not allowed?”

“Technically? No, no they’re not. But what’s life without a little excitement? Besides, the only way this shorts out is if he eats it and exposes the wires.”

“No cords for you, young man.” Dani rubs the rabbit’s ears, making him whirr his teeth in contentment.

They chat about their respective majors (Dani is plant sciences, which Aubrey knows very little about but that’s okay because it means she gets to listen to Dani explain new, interesting things) and the perils of dorm life.

“Honey?”

“Yes?” Dani looks up at her and Aubrey blushes.

“Um, I meant for the tea.”

“Oh” Dani’s blushing now too, two adorable rosy spots on her cheeks “yes please.”

Aubrey hands her a heatproof mug as she joins her on the floor.

“So, um” she taps her sparkly orange nails on her cup, “are, um, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

A sigh, “I’ll be in the air, heading home for break.”

“Aw beans.” Aubrey sips her tea, trying not to be too disappointed, drops her other hand to her knee.

Dani reaches over, setting her hand over Aubrey’s, “we’ll be back in two weeks. And, uh, if you want I can give you my number.”

“Oh my god please give me your number.”

Another laugh and Aubrey’s sure the roots of her hair are going to catch fire.

“Sorry, I haven’t had anyone that eager to get to know me in awhile. It’s nice. You’re nice.” She leans forward.

“You’re nice too.” Aubrey mirrors her, and then their noses are touching.

“Pass me your phone?”

Aubrey fumbles it from her pocket, unwilling to sit back and lose contact. Dani must feel the same, because she plugs her number in while still resting against Aubrey.

“I should get back, I have to get to the airport pretty early tomorrow. Long travel day.”

“Okay.” Aubrey starts to move, only for Dani to peck her cheeks, her nose and, fleetingly, her lips.

“Something to look forward to.”

“Uhuh.” Grins at her.

“I’ll text you soon, I promise.”

Aubrey walks her out, waves goodbye as she heads across campus. Gets Dr. Harris Bonker’s settles and surrenders the battle with her textbooks for tonight. Just as she’s pulling the covers up, her phone lights up.

Dani: Got back safe.

Lady Flame: Sweet. Sleep tight, cutie.

Dani: You too, fireblossom. Talk to you tomorrow.

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amnesty #winter fills #college au

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odelschwanky · 3 years

Note

headcannons or a scenario if u more comfortable with that of Stark taking care if his pregnant s/o❤️ I love ur posts btw

Okay hi. Thank you for being so patient with me. Thank you so so much for the compliment. I hope you like this one.

I was confused about writing this because I feel like it’s difficult to do things in Los Noches. Do they have toilets, CVS’s to buy pregnancy tests? What do they do for fun there? It’s so hard to tell. So modern AU but like not?

_______________________________________________________

You and Starrk weren’t planning on getting pregnant together. Maybe it was because you didn't think you could get pregnant, or maybe you weren’t just thinking about that. You just kind of did what two people do when they’re together... but you did it a lot. And always unprotected because, well, you and Starrk didn’t have anything to worry about in that department. (Except for a baby?)

When you start feeling weirdly sick, you write it off as a moody spell. You were crummy, irritable, snappy, and you were like that for maybe a few weeks.

***

“Do you have to yell?” He sleepily says as you stomp around the room in Los Noches the two of you share. You were cleaning up after him.

“Yes! I have to yell! You’re so messy, Starrk! You-”

You cover your mouth in shock, the sudden wave of nausea too much to bear. You drop the clothes in your hands and barely make it to the toilet before whatever food you had in your stomach came out of your stomach. Starrk was up in a rush, unusual for him, in time to hold your hair back (if you have long hair) or simply hold your shoulders while you get it all up. You were all out of breath by the time you were done, and you look up at him, utterly bewildered and a little defeated. You had a feeling you knew what was happening, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He looked at you, dazed and confused, his blue eyes wide like saucers.

“Are you... okay?” He asked.

You just nod slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helps you up and gives you a hug, which honestly, threw you for a loop. He rests his chin on your head as he pulls you close to him.

“Don’t get so mad next time,” he says. “I’ll pick up the clothes... just don’t work yourself up.”

That was his way of apologizing.

***

A few more days of this sickness went on, and added symptoms piled on. Your head ached all the time, you peed every hour, on the hour, and you didn’t want Starrk laying on your chest anymore because your breasts hurt too much. You definitely knew what was going on now. You didn’t know how he’d feel. The best way to clear this up with Starrk would be a conversation. You didn’t know If there was room in an Espada’s schedule for a baby.

“Um... Starrk?” You say softly, coming into the room. He was napping, like usual and you felt bad for waking him.

“Hm?” He barely opened his eyes. He insisted that you call him by his first name, but you always called him Starrk when you were nervous.

His brown hair fell over his lashes when he shifted toward you. There was a serene expression on his normally serious face.

“I think I might be pregnant... and I wanted to have a conversation with you.” Starrk rose up into a sitting position, not in a rush, and looks at you deeply. You couldn’t tell whether he was pleased or displeased.

“Conversation? What for?” He asks, looking down at your stomach like a bump would magically appear. “I just wanted to see... if... you wanted to... I don’t know...”

“We’re keeping it.” He says with finality. His voice was soft, making you relax.

You smile. “W-we are?”

Starrk holds open one of his arms and you climb under it promptly. The two of you snuggle underneath a blanket and he pets you gently.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t we? Surely you don’t think I’m so cruel?”

You shake your head and laugh, breathing in his musky scent. You knew Starrk wasn’t a very complicated man. Apathetic, sure, but he loved you and that was always apparent. You didn’t have a single doubt about that.

“No, I don’t think that. You’re not as scary as everybody thinks. You’d make a good dad.”

You sense him smile up there, softly and to himself. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now,” he says.

You close your eyes against his firm chest. “Okay, okay. I’m just excited.” You couldn’t help but grin.

Starrk clears his throat and you could tell he was trying to get back to sleep. After a while, he speaks softly against your temple.

“Me too.”

*****

So Starrk takes very very good care of you while you’re pregnant.

He starts cleaning up after himself and helping out with chores. You never have to do dishes more than once a day, you never have to pick up any of his things, you never have to make the bed.

He tries his best to be home for you, taking leave from his duties as an Espada. Aizen doesn’t like it too much, but Starrk honestly doesn’t care at all. He was the Primera Espada. Aizen couldn’t do a thing to come between Starrk and his family. Seriously. Your Coyote might not be vocal about how much he cares about you, but he really is a man of action.

He rubs your feet OFTEN. Even if you don’t ask him to. It’s one of his favorite things to do for you. He puts those lean muscles to good use and gets to work on your feet when he finds you sitting anywhere at all. He surprises you and places a few kisses on them from time to time, between massaging the stress and tension out of you.

Bath time has become a thing that the two of you do together. Starrk washes your hair for you every night, as well as your back. He’s gentler with you these days, more delicate and soft. He’s not as heavy-handed as he used to be when you weren’t pregnant. There was a lot of roughness in his actions, in the way you two interacted and made love, but now Starrk realized that you weren’t as durable as you were. You were a lot more sensitive, a lot more touchy. So he adapted, and he did it well.

His voice even seemed to get more gentle.

Anytime you’re in bed, he’s right there beside you after getting you a glass of water for the nightstand. He cuddles you close and gently draws circles on your growing belly. He doesn’t spare any expense when it comes to taking care of you. Whatever you want, he makes sure you have it. Whether it’s the food you crave or decent sleep clothes that you’d be more comfortable in. Whether it be kisses, neck bites, or back rubs, he makes sure you have it.

Starrk actually is really caring and kind, and your pregnancy brings the two of you closer together. There are just more opportunities for him to show you how much he cares about you and how much he wants to make sure you’re comfortable.

“Are you still awake?” You ask him. It was the middle of the night in Hueco Mundo, the only light in the room a single stream of moonlight. Starrk’s hands gently enclose around you, just a little tighter than before.

“Mmm..” He groans. His front was pressed flush against you and you savored his lenient and forgiving touch. His fingers were curled in the fabric of your clothes, making sure you were warm.

“Thank you.”

He sighs. “You don’t need to thank me, you know. It’s my job.”

You shake your eyes, struggling to roll over onto your other side. You faced him, your swollen stomach now between the two of you. He readjusted his hold on you, making sure he wasn’t gripping too tight. (That was his most common problem. He used to treat you like you were indestructible. Now he treats you like stained glass).

“Your job or not... you’re still doing it. And you’re doing an excellent job.”

Your lover doesn’t talk for a while... but when he does, his voice is low and tender. He speaks close to your ear so you could listen without him having to talk too loud. He murmurs to you before you trail off to sleep.

“Anything for you. I love you.”

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1oserjk · 4 years

Text

— in my head

jungkook doesn’t feel the same way about you and you totally get it.

x masterlist

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

The pretty skirt you put on for him had reached the tops of your thighs and the heels that killed the fuck out of your feet had thankfully put a few more inches to your height — for some reason, these things made you feel at least validated enough for him to look at you enough to catch his attention, something you’ve wanted for a while.

The lashes and eyeliner looked almost perfect and your base makeup smoothed out whatever you were hiding underneath, nevertheless a mask you wore proudly for him.

When the tears collect at the surface of your eyes, they begin to feel heavy under the sinking pressure - yet you refuse to let them fall.

“Yeah, I definitely understand.”

He tenses when he hears the broken and lagged tone of your voice. You slowly seep into the vulnerability and it starts to feel the same all around. The still air was finally okay to breathe in, you were fine with having to numbly look around your surroundings and for once, you started to care less on the put-together mold you forced yourself to fit in for him. His eyes move to below where your hands curl up to dig the tips of your nails into the skin of your palm. It hurts, but surprisingly not as much as the humiliation you’re facing right now.

He drags out your name slowly, scared shitless if the next thing he’d say would make you blow up. If you did, he definitely wouldn’t know how to handle it. Sure, he’s made girls cry before, but not like this, not when they stood face to face with him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles out. “I just - I’m taking out Tzuyu Friday night, and you know how long I've waited for her to break up with her boyfriend..” Shamefully, he stares down at his shoes. You remember having to hear for weeks on over Tzuyu and her boyfriend and it was definitely disheartening when you were only trying your hardest to pull Jungkook the other way and not consume his time in breaking them apart. Though, it was hard to stop you when it came to confrontation. You were definitely stupid but at least you’d be willing to own up to it. “Things are complicated right now.”

“I get it,” you say plainly. He doesn’t believe it. “I’m not..” You start with a sudden force in your throat. It burns and it makes it harder to speak without breaking into a few tears. “I’m not here to pity you into dating me. If you don’t like someone, then you don’t like them. I’m not the prettiest, I don’t get a lot of attention, and I know I’m not wanted — I get it.” You hastily rush to wipe and pat your cheeks, acting as if he didn’t catch you in plain sight.

“I-It’s not like that-“

“But please,” you beg with a whimper. “Please don’t sugarcoat it and make me wait for nothing. Don’t let me down easy or put me on the back-burner until all of your choices aren’t choices anymore. Let me go with a sane mind, Jungkook. Please, I’m exhausted.”

“I..” His jaw ticks and he goes anxious when you keep your eyes on him and every single one of his movements. “I’m sorry, _____. I don’t feel the same way about you.”

Shuddering, your eyes close and the tears finally pour. To more of your embarrassment, you look stupid with black streaks running down your face, but at this point — it didn’t matter anymore. You were dumb for thinking that even if he did reciprocate the feelings you had, you’d be able to uphold this side of you. It was already tiring when you came home and ripped off the tight-fitting clothes and the faux mink lashes Yeri convinced you to buy for six dollars extra just because they felt soft. Or soothing the blisters that grew through the day from being a height that you weren’t naturally gifted with, just so you’d be the perfect size beside him. You were deemed as pretty on the outside, but you felt the opposite when it came down to how you were as a person internally.

As heartbreaking as this situation was, it held the same level of relief on your shoulders when the weight suddenly lifted and you could finally stop thinking about what he thought about you every single fucking second you stood in front of him. It’d be a satisfying breakthrough once you’d get over this rage and sadness you felt all at once and maybe, you’d be able to feel yourself again.

“I know my place from here on out and wish to separate myself from you, even as a friend. I wish you the best, Jungkook.”

He hides the way his jaw loosens and the wide eyes that showed utter shock from how well you took his words — it was better than expected. He thought there’d be a fit that would cause the both of you to get kicked out of this crummy restaurant but for some reason, it was the absolute opposite. Something itched in him that screamed that he didn’t like it. He wanted you to yell at him, force him to apologize, but all he does is sit there uneasy when your arm reaches for your purse.

This was it. You wouldn’t be involved in his life as you already were and he would lose the right to call you whenever he sought out the need to.

This decision was made to be final and he was fucking scared.

Picking up your things, you politely lead yourself out with no more remorse to cling onto. You weren’t worried if he’d tell around over what had happened, or even if he’d look at you in embarrassment instead of fondness. It didn’t matter anymore and you were finally done with being everything you weren’t. It was over. The pain was finally over and now there was only space left to grieve.

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

something small n sad.

i started on so many new writings, i haven’t checked up on palette so that’s definitely my next priority just because it is a christmas gift from me to you ok ily see u soon.

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #mine #imh

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knowltonsrangers · 2 years

Text

is enough, enough?

Nathan Hale x reader

[a/n: I offer you an extremely self-indulgent fic because,, I am literally in love with this man.]

Sometimes, it comes in random fleeting passes of intense questions, basically interrogating yourself if you handled something the right way.

Other times, it’s when you know you haven’t.

Your phone continues to buzz, lighting up and illuminating the dark bedroom you’ve cornered yourself into. Watching the messages filter in, you hardly move an inch, feeling the itch of brimming tears and the tension gather in your shoulders.

Just stop.

Make it stop.

Please.

So you switch the phone to silent, grabbing it forcefully off the comforter and stomping into the living room. Crossing the floor, you peer around until your eyes fall on Nathan’s desk.

Sliding his top drawer open, you deposit your phone inside and slam it shut, retreating back to your room in a flurry of mixed anger and confusion.

When Nathan returns home, he simply thinks you’re at the library, or enjoying your day off elsewhere. He heaves a sigh, throwing his bag on his desk chair, noticing the tiniest bit of light filtering through his cracked desk drawer.

Odd.

He thinks, trying to think back to when he’s opened the top left drawer last. It’s full of rubber bands and thumb tacks, nothing that he would need on a daily basis.

So curiosity getting the better of him, he slides the drawer open and is perplexed to find your phone.

“y/n?”

Nathan moves quickly, snatching the device and stuffing it into his pocket, sock-clad feet sliding across the floor as he pushes onwards to your room.

“Where are you? What’s going on?”

Fear rises in his stomach, hastily reaching out for the knob, yanking on it with two hands.

It moves, but does not open.

“Since when do you have a lock?!”

He’s just about ready to throw his shoulder through the door, stepping back to get a good running start, when he hears the door open.

“I don’t,”

You say, staring up at him under thick lashes, huddled under a blanket that wraps around your entire body. Nathan breathes a sigh of relief, but the instant it leaves his lips, he’s propping his hands on his hips, trying to figure out what’s happened to you.

“I think the door was stuck…”

You’re speaking once more, trying to hide the warble in your voice, and as much as you try, Nathan catches it.

“Who’s hurt you?”

It’s a three word sentence —four, if you’re likely to count the contraction—and it makes the sob you had been suppressing come to life, hand reaching up to smack your lips with a shaky palm.

“My y/n, my absolute world, who has hurt you?”

In a display of strength that he in no way hides, Nathan leans forward and scoops you into his arm, blanket and all. Holding you close, he tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear until you begin to speak.

“I thought I made the right choice,”

You cry, leaning into his warm palm with your rosy cheeks, sputtering out your woes.

“Is this about work?”

Nathan knows all to well about working his bum off, and he knows that you’ve been suffering after quitting one of your two jobs. At a place so crummy, no wonder the people who worked there were all the same.

He watches as you nod glumly.

“They been bothering you about putting your notice in?”

You bob your head once more.

“Love, do yourself a favor, for me, okay?”

Leaning towards your bleary eyes, he gently rests his forehead against yours, close enough that you can catch the beginning of his scar, and his piercing azure eyes.

“You don’t owe them anything. They can say all the nasty things they’d like, because no matter what they say, it doesn’t make it right. Delete all those messages. They aren’t even worth it for you to glance at.”

Nathan was always right. He always was, and no matter in moments of deep despair when you just wanted to push everyone away—his placid voice always beckoned you to listen.

“I can’t stand the sight to see you cry,”

He swipes a thumb across one of your tear-stained cheeks, nose brushing against yours in a beat of silence.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, hoping that it’s enough to convey how much he has helped you over the course of the past five minutes.

“No, no. I only take payment in smiles.”

As if you could sense it, his hand comes to your stomach, running cold fingers down your torso and hips.

Unable to contain it, you burst into a fit of laughter, twisting and turning to try and release from his hold. If anything, he squeezes tighter, jostling you as his flaxen hair bounces slightly to fall in front of his face.

“There’s my y/n.”

He exhales slowly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek once more, sliding away any straggling tears.

“We’ll get through it together, just like we always do.”

And like always: you believe him.

[a/n: whehdjnejek I just want to be held by this man is that too much to ask?? 😞✊]

#sul writes #Nathan hale

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xb-squaredx · 4 years

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Please Don’t Sleep on Hades

2020’s…been a real year, huh? At a time when in-person gatherings aren’t much of a thing and people have to stay in, video games are suddenly a pretty attractive option. That said, few games have really grabbed me this year; in a roundabout way, 2020’s been a year of reruns, as I go through a lot of games I’ve already played or games that are just yesterday’s news (but new to me!). However, in the nick of time, the folks at Supergiant Games delivered unto us their latest title, Hades. While they’ve been working on this game for years, with it hitting Early Access on Steam back in 2018, the full version of Hades finally hit Steam, the Epic Game Store and made the leap to consoles with the Switch, which is where I picked it up. It has been a WHILE since I’ve had a game grab me so strongly so early on, and I’ve been hearing this game’s praises for years now already, so allow me to happily state why I think Hades is worthy of the hype and is a fantastic game I’d easily recommend!

DADDY ISSUES

OK, so first things first…you don’t actually play as Hades in this game, but rather his son Zagreus. Ol’ Zag has had it with his father, and tries to literally fight his way out of hell to reach the surface, and no matter what his old man puts in his way, Zagreus (and the player) will meet the challenge. And probably die, but hey, that’s OK! In the underworld, death is more of an inconvenience than anything else, so after taking a moment to dust himself off, Zagreus will head out for another attempt. For as long as it takes.

Hades is a rogue-like, meaning it’s a game based around randomization and adaptation. On any given “run” of the game, the level layouts, enemies present and the variety of power-ups Zagreus can find will be left to chance, with the player challenged to amass the best build they can to eventually break out of hell and reach the human world and if you die…start from scratch. That said, Hades is among the ever-growing sub-genre of rogue-lites, in that there IS some permanent progression, which takes a bit of a sting out of dying, but more on that later. Now, most games of this type aren’t really big on story. They have a premise that’s little more than an excuse to play. Splunkey wants you to explore a cave, The Binding of Isaac sees you escaping a basement and in Enter the Gungeon you uh…e-enter the gun—you get the point! But what separates Hades from most rogue-likes/lites is that there actually IS a very interesting story that unfolds as you play.

There’s more to Zag’s desire to get to the surface than just getting away from his father, though their strained relationship certainly doesn’t help matters, and over the course of your many, MANY escape attempts, players learn of the rather screwed-up nature of Zagreus’ family of deities, though any mythology nut could tell you to expect that. Hades has an incredibly charismatic cast, superb voice acting across the board, and some real sharp writing that really got me wanting to meet anyone and everyone and learn more about this world. You’re likely to run into Hypnos first, who always has a “tip” ready for you when you meet your end to a given enemy or hazard, or the fabled hero Achilles, who acts as a mentor to Zagreus. There’s Dusa, the adorably frazzled flying gorgon head who acts as the House of Hades’ maid, and of course…Megaera, of the Furies.

She serves as the first proper boss in the game, and will be a pretty sizable challenge for most players, but as you eventually overcome her again and again, she and Zagreus end up attempting to reconnect with each other, and her recurring fights become an excuse to flirt and test each other. I may as well say too that it’s easy to fall in love with the characters in this game because…I-I mean, just look at them! This game is a bisexual’s paradise, that’s all I’ll say.

A bit of a fun fact, but Zagreus’ voice actor, Darren Korb, is also a composer at Supergiant, so he’s a man of many talents, since Hades has a killer score. From the laid-back tunes at the House of Hades where you can unwind and recharge after a botched run, to the pulse-pounding boss theme, there’s some GREAT music on display here. And that’s before you meet Orpheus and Eurydice, two characters with amazing singing voices that, if you play your cards right, might start singing together. The game’s visuals, meanwhile, aren’t a slouch either. While the level layouts are randomized, everything manages to look well-crafted, each region of the underworld having their own distinct look and feel. The fiery pits of Asphodel end up juxtaposing well with the paradise that is Elysium. Now, character models are generally less-detailed since the camera stays zoomed out to give players a good view of the action, but the portraits for the various characters more than make up for it with their distinct, detailed designs. A-And I’m not just saying that because everyone’s hot! Now, admittedly you might take a look at Zag and think he’s nothing but an edgelord and the game itself might be taking itself too seriously, but in reality, Hades strikes a pretty good balance, and definitely carries a sense of humor. Characters love to snark at each other, the various Shades chilling in the House of Hades’ lounge have some funny conversations you can listen in on and all told, the game only gets serious when appropriate. Really, I have no real complaints with the game on a presentation level; it’s all aces so far, and thankfully the game-y part follows suit!

LIVE.DIE. REPEAT.

Hades is best described as a dungeon-crawler. You have an isometric view as you move about, avoiding hazards and fighting off enemies as you climb each chamber on your way to the surface. Defeat every enemy in a chamber and get a reward. Sounds simple enough until you factor in all of the various permutations of events; Hades aims to make sure no two runs are alike, with different enemies, power-ups and challenges awaiting you. All of this is doled out slowly, as with each subsequent playthrough you begin to have more of the game unraveled. First and foremost, Zagreus can gain various Boons from the other Olympian Gods, who are sympathetic to his plight and lend him some power if he makes contact with them. Each God has their own twist on the abilities they grant Zagreus. They can all increase his stats in some way, or affect either his dash ability or his Cast, a projectile attack. For Zeus, naturally, all of Zagreus’ moves will gain an electric effect, whereas Artemis focuses more on upping Zag’s critical hit chance. Dionysus, the God of Wine, grants you the “hangover” status effect, allowing your attacks to uh…make enemies drunk? Sure! You’ll be given a random selection of three Boons to pick from, of varying rarities. Over the course of a run, you might try to nab as many Boons from the same God as possible, or vary it up and see which abilities synchronize together. At times, you might even be granted a Duo Boon, where two Gods decide to combine their power for a special ability that plays to both of their strengths. Still, at other times, you might be forced into a Trial of the Gods, where you must choose one God’s Boon over the other, with the snubbed God lashing out afterwards. Hey, just because they’re Gods, doesn’t mean they’re nice. Of course, you’ve also got a variety of health and weapon upgrades too. In fact, let’s gush about the weapons for a second, shall we?

At the time of writing, Hades has six weapons to play with. You start with a sword, which is the all-rounder of the set, but as you gain keys to unlock more weapons, you can start to really experiment. The bow and rail cannon serve as ranged options with different approaches, while the spear is the melee weapon with the best range at the cost of pure power. The shield grants you absolute defense at the cost of range, while the gauntlets let you unleash your fisticuffs on underworld scum, though leave you with limited ranged attacks. Each weapon has specific Boons and weapon upgrades you can find as well, some of which can radically alter how a weapon works. The rail cannon, for example, fires a lot faster than the bow, but this is balanced by needing to manually reload…unless you get a weapon upgrade that gives you unlimited ammo with the only catch being that you can only do burst fire. Adding to this, players eventually unlock hidden Aspects of weapons, morphing them into different forms which can also influence their moveset. Change the shield to the Aspect of Zeus, and when you throw your shield Captain America style, it stays out and continually spins, dealing tons of damage over time and effectively forcing enemies to get sliced to bits if they want to get near you. I didn’t expect this game to have half this many weapons or to have them balanced so well. Really, just like anything else, weapons are another tool you can poke and prod and experiment with until you get a truly killer collection of Boons and upgrades that let you just demolish anything in your way. It’s very satisfying when you finally clear a run with a great build…though depending on the RNG, you WILL get some crummy builds, but that’s the nature of the rogue-like!

It’s likely that a bad build (or really, just getting hit with a new boss or enemy you aren’t prepared for) will lead to a death, but as already established, death isn’t really that much of an inconvenience in the underworld. Zagreus just spawns back at home and is free to immediately try to escape again, but this brief reprieve lets you chat up whoever happens to be around, give them gifts, advance some side-quests, pet your dog Cerberus and practice with weapons and such before you’re ready to go at it again. It’s after a run that you also get to spend a lot of the spoils of your escape attempts. While you lose Boons and weapon upgrades and the like upon death, there’s a LOT of various items you keep with you that have plenty of uses. Darkness shards are used for permanent skills that can be applied to Zagreus, like Death’s Defiance, which grants Zagreus another life upon dying, which can eventually be upgraded to give him THREE extra lives, just as an example. Precious gems can be used to fund a variety of cosmetic changes to the House of Hades. Just because Zagreus doesn’t want to live there anymore, doesn’t mean he can’t at least make it look good! Nectar can be gifted to other characters to improve your relationships with them, with bottles of Ambrosia being required later on, while special keys can be used to unlock weapons, more upgrades for your Darkness shards, or just used as a secondary currency for trade. There’s really a LOT of different items to mess around with, though admittedly if you’re the type to want to max out EVERYTHING you’ll be in it for the long haul, as there is not only a LOT of stuff to upgrade and purchase, but the random nature of things means rewards are never a guarantee. Though it’s worth noting the game’s totally beatable without going nuts with completion. Which I guess leads me to the biggest compliment I can give this game: even after “beating” it, I still can’t stop playing, and there’s plenty of reason to keep going.

REPLAYS AND REWARDS

So, full disclosure, I’ve gotten Zagreus to the surface. Several times, actually. But I haven’t quite “beaten” the game yet. In fact, at the risk of sounding pretentious, it is as if the true game begins after you’ve beaten it once. Without getting into specifics, let’s just say the game gives you a very good in-story reason to keep playing, and you won’t reach credits without several completed runs under your belt. And even then, there’s still stuff to do. I’m almost 30 hours into Hades and I’ve barely scratched the surface honestly. Every major character has their own sidequest you can undergo, but it can be slow goings when it comes to advancing them. Trying out all the weapons and boons and different combinations will easily take dozens of hours to fully experience, though the game has a handy in-game list of what you’ve done and haven’t done, as well as in-game achievements with tangible rewards that will spur you on. I was admittedly surprised at how dense of a game Hades can be. A successful run will likely take you somewhere between a half-hour to an hour, which is pretty devious. Just long enough to stay engaging throughout, and short enough that I can keep convincing myself that I have time for “one more run” and then suddenly several hours have gone by. Strangest thing.

Something that’s become a bit of a staple of Supergiant’s work is customizable difficulty, various modifiers you can flip on to make the game harder if you so desire, which in Hades takes the form of the Pact of Punishment. After a successful run, you can turn on a given pact to spice things up for subsequent runs. Maybe enemies do a bit more damage, or you give yourself a super strict time limit to clear a run. You can give enemies armor that makes them sturdier, or jack up the in-game shop’s prices. You can even be forced to give up Boons in order to advance past certain doors! Probably the most impressive Pact is Extreme Measures, which ends up greatly affecting the boss fights in the game…trust me when I say you won’t be ready for them the first time you flip that on. Activating a given pact increases a “heat gauge” that, should it reach a given level, will end up granting you various special items to help with fully upgrading and unlocking stuff. Of course, with each successful run completed with a given Pact activated, you’ll have to raise the heat more and more in order to keep getting these upgrade materials so be prepared. You can also still gain these materials (albeit at a much slower rate) playing through the game normally though, and there’s really no penalty for choosing NOT to activate a given pact. On the flip side of things, there’s also a God Mode you can toggle on that makes Zagreus a little stronger with each death, which can help those that want to see more of the story but are struggling with the game. Have your God Cake and eat it too!

All and all, this game just delivers on every level and I’ve been devouring it since release whenever I have a spare minute. You can see that Supergiant is taking all the lessons they learned from each previous game and combined it to make what is easily their best game yet. I don’t throw around words like “masterpiece” lightly, but Hades is just such a slam dunk that I’m sorely tempted to call it just that. I mean, if you hate rogue-likes, I’m not sure if Hades will really push you over the edge admittedly? You get way more rewards retained after death than just about any other rogue-like I’ve played, but if you’re the type that hates having to constantly adapt and not being able to memorize what’s coming, I can see this not working for you. But for me at least, I’ve had an absolute blast with the game and the only issue I really have with it is a small nitpick at best. When it comes to getting to know various characters, you can talk to them and give them Nectar or Ambrosia as a gift right? But what happens if they don’t show up on a given run? Or what if they DO show up, but they’re locked into a conversation with someone else? That means you can’t really advance anything with them until a given dice roll pities you. MEGAERA I THINK YOU’RE COOL, PLEASE JUST TALK TO M—oh sorry, don’t know where that came from… So yeah, that’s the nittiest of picks.

I adore this game’s cast, the voice work and music is excellent to the ear, the combat is engaging, the gameplay loop is addicting…need I say more? I mean, I’ve said almost 3000 words, but to really sum it up…I highly recommend Hades and I hope you don’t pass it up if you’re even remotely interested. You can find it on Steam, the Epic store and Switch as of right now, and I don’t think you could go wrong with any version.

Blood and darkness await you.

-B

#Hades #Hades game #supergiant games #hades supergiant #zagreus #megaera #rouge like #nintendo switch #xb-squaredx

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Tree House Kisses, Chapter 24 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters. xoxo!

Chapter Summary: Adore faces some unexpected challenges on the opening night of Grease, and it causes her to think hard about who she can trust.

TW: homophobia

Chapter 24: Freddy My Love

On the day of the agonizingly slow tech rehearsal, by the time they got to the prom scene, everyone was a little exhausted, but they kept pushing through.

Courtney kept one eye on Adore and Raja as she and Willam marked their swing dance choreography. She rolled her eyes as Adore tucked a stray curl back into Raja’s hair, giggling as the senior slung an arm around her shoulders.

Courtney sighed and looked over at Roy dancing with Shangela, who was playing Cha Cha. She grinned, remembering his recent confession to her. When Mrs. Maguire paused the actors to work on a lighting cue, she sidled over to them, whispering, “Shangie, those were some killer moves!”

“Thanks! I try…” Shangela laughed, feigning modesty.

“And you look so cute in that dress. I love the way you look in red. Roy, doesn’t Shangie look soooo cute?” She smiled at them, fluttering her lashes.

“Uh, yeah, you look cute,” Roy echoed.

“Thanks guys…” Shangie gave them a slightly puzzled look and walked a few steps away to grab a drink from her water bottle.

Roy grabbed Courtney’s arm, hissing, “Stop that right now!”

Courtney widened her eyes, a mischievous grin on her face. “Stop what?” she asked innocently.

Glaring down at her, Roy insisted, “You know what. Seriously, knock it off.”

Courtney pressed her body against his, giggling. “You’re so uptight, babe…” She wrapped her arms around him, glancing over his shoulder at Adore and Raja again.

“Courtney…” he said warningly.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be good,” she promised, kissing him gently.

It was finally opening night of Grease and everyone was bursting with excitement and nerves. Thorgy ran around making sure everything was going smoothly as the cast members got into costume.

It hadn’t taken any time at all for Courtney to pull her hair into a curled ponytail, a pretty pink ribbon wrapped around it. She loved how cute she looked in the 50s get-up, and pranced around backstage swishing her hips, humming the songs and joking with the others.

Courtney propped herself on top of the vanity Roy was using, legs swinging as she watched Adore and Raja on the other side, helping each other get ready. Adore was finishing up her makeup, while Raja pinned Adore’s hair up for her wig.

“Ow,” Adore hissed, jerking away from the bobby pin Raja poked her with.

“Sorry, babe,” Raja kissed Adore’s shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Adore said, a sunny smile gracing her face as she stole a kiss from Raja.

“You guys are so fucking cute, it’s almost gross,” Jinkx said, leaning against the vanity to line her lips.

Courtney tore her eyes away, slightly annoyed. She watched Roy try to get his hair in a perfect Danny pompadour for a second before hopping down.

“Let me help, babe,” Courtney said, giving Roy a kiss, taking the comb from him and climbing into his lap. She combed Roy’s hair back on the sides, the gel in his hair a bit sticky under her fingers.

Courtney’s eyes kept wandering over Roy’s shoulder to Adore and Raja. Raja stood between Adore’s legs, Adore’s arms wrapped around the girl’s waist as Raja tucked stray hairs under Adore’s wig cap, making sure nothing would peek out. Courtney found herself trying to read Adore’s lips as she whispered something to Raja, the older girl only biting her lip and shaking her head in response.

“Oh, okay. That was my ear. Twice!” Roy grabbed at his ear, taking the comb from Courtney, a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“I’m sooo sorry,” Courtney cooed loudly, wrapping her arms around Roy’s neck. “I didn’t mean to-- I wasn’t paying attention.”

Roy sighed, putting the comb down and leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

“What’s on your mind? You’ve been distracted all day,” Roy noted.

“Nothing.” Courtney shook her head, forcing a smile across her face.

“Really?”

Courtney nodded. “I’m just excited for the show. Excited for you to get on stage and kill it,” she said, giving him peck on the lips.

When she pulled back, she saw Adore gazing lovingly at Raja, laughing at the playful tiff going on between her girlfriend and Jinkx. She looked back to Roy trying to not let Adore’s infatuation with Raja annoy her.

“You look so good as a greaser,” Courtney giggled, completely oblivious to the fact that Roy had just admitted to being a bit nervous, hands rubbing up and down Roy’s chest. “Where’s your jacket?” Courtney started to move to get up.

“It’s over there. Were you listening at all?” Roy frowned at Courtney who’d hopped off his lap to grab the jacket.

Courtney paused, jacket gripped in hand. “You said... That I look amazing in this outfit and you still wish I could have been Sandy.” Courtney batted her lashes playfully. She glanced over to Adore and Raja, their laughter a distraction.

Roy sighed to himself, deciding to let Courtney slide tonight, but made a mental note to try to get her to talk later, “You’re right, you in this poodle skirt is driving me a bit crazy,” Roy tugged her closer and Courtney might have squealed a little louder than necessary.

After Mrs. Maguire agreed to Adore’s unconventional character choices, it took shockingly few changes to the script to bring the “Marty is gay” subplot come to light. In fact, the changes were so subtle that it was probably possible for people to miss them in the early scenes. Her big solo in the sleepover scene was the first time she openly expressed attraction to girls, starting out signing to her fellow Pink Ladies (maybe focusing on Raja in particular).

As the music began and the lights dimmed, the spotlight came up on Adore. A “Woo!” sounded from the audience, that Adore knew to be her uncle. She took a deep breath and began to croon the song that by now was second nature to her.

“Freddy my love, I miss you more than words can say Freddy my love, please keep in touch while you're away Hearing from you can make the day so much better Getting a souvenir or maybe a letter I really flipped over the grey cashmere sweater, Freddy my love…”

After one last eyelash flutter in Raja’s direction, Adore made her way down into the audience, winking and shimming in front of cute girls. She spotted Fame, Trinity and Violet in the audience and blew them a kiss. Fame, of course, goofily caught it while Violet rolled her eyes.

“Freddy my love, Freddy my love, Freddy my lo-ove Freddy you know, your absence makes me feel so blue That's okay though, your presents make me think of you”

In their seats, mothers and grandparents scrunched their noses and pursed their lips in confusion and distaste as Adore went around flirting with girls. A few audience members shared glances and whispers as Adore continued to sing.

“My ma will have a heart attack when she catches-”

Adore sung to a cute strawberry blonde who giggled shyly.

“Those pedal pushers with the black leather patches…”

She leaned forward, hands on the girl’s shoulders, one knee on the arm of the seat, batting her eyes in what she and Mrs. Maguire had decided would be their chaste version of a lap dance.

“Oh how I wish I had a jacket that matches, Freddy my love”

The girl laughed as Adore winked and took her leg down.

“What kind of establishment is this-- allowing this homosexual filth in a high school play,” a middle-aged woman sneered loudly, grabbing her purse and moving to leave.

“Fr-freddy my love, Freddy my love, Freddy my love…”

When Adore heard the woman, she stuttered, but she didn’t stop singing. Until two more women got out of their seats, mumbles of sin and disgust on their lips. A bearded man followed, taking a small child with him.

Adore’s singing faded off; she stopped in her tracks, a confused look on her face as she watched several other men and women leave. People turned in their seats watching them and whispers waved through the crowd. Adore’s heart thumped against her chest, blood rushed through her ears as she watched those people leave with their families in tow.

Mrs. Maguire grew anxious when she saw that Adore had completely stopped.

“It’s okay, honey, keep going. Keep going. Don’t stop!” she hissed, hands motioning for Adore to continue singing. Adore’s wide eyes connected with Mrs. Maguire’s.

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat, but when her mouth opened, no words came out. The crowd grew antsy, shifting in their seats. The air filled with tension and the pounding of her heart was all she could hear. Her stomach turned as she watched the last mother flee with her child.

Bonnie shifted to the edge of her seat, fingers tense around the armrest, ready to get up if Adore needed her to. Adalia, Bonnie’s mother, put a hand on her shoulder.

Trinity grabbed Violet’s thigh, looking at Violet with confused and terrified eyes, only receiving a shrug of annoyance because how the hell was Violet supposed to know what was going on. Trinity’s other hand squeezed Fame’s, the blonde's face scrunched up in embarrassment for her friend.

The other cast members scurried backstage trying to peek from behind the curtains. Courtney gripped Roy’s arm, her other hand over her heart, scared it would stop.

Finally, Adore came back to the moment. Hyper-aware that she was standing in costume in the aisles, her cue repeating-- waiting for her to pick up. She nodded to herself knowing she needed to finish. The play must go on.

“Don't keep your letters from me, I thrill to every line Your spelling's kinda crummy, but honey so is mine I treasure every gifty, the ring is really nifty You say it cost you fifty, so you're thrifty, I don't mind…”

As Adore hopped up to sit at the edge of the stage for the last verse, she made brief eye contact with Raja, then quickly looked away, knowing that right now she just needed to get through the song. She didn’t have any time for sympathy, or she’d fall apart, and she was so close.

“Freddy you see, you'll hold me in your arms someday And I will be wearing your lacy lingerie Thinking about it, my heart's pounding already Knowing when you come home, we're bound to go steady And throw your service pay around like confetti, Freddy my love Freddy my love, Freddy my love, Freddy my lo-ove Freddy my love, Freddy my love, Freddy my lo-ove…”

As Adore made her way back to the stage, a breath of relief had Bonnie falling back into her chair, blinking watery eyes, relieved that her baby was okay, angry at those disrespectful parents, and a sadness sitting in her chest.

Her mother and brother tried to assure her that Adore would be fine, but she wasn’t so sure.

As the lights and music faded, all Adore wanted to do was get the hell offstage and find Raja, but unfortunately, her girlfriend had exited off stage left, so she stumbled blindly into the wings, breathing hard, heading for the dressing rooms. Her heart was still pounding and her knees felt wobbly. Worst of all, she knew she still had the whole rest of the show to get through.

Courtney was the first one to run up to her, throwing her arms around her friend from behind, holding her close. Adore took a shaky breath, leaning back against her, tears burning in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, Dory,” Courtney murmured against her neck. “You were so good, even after all of that bullshit. I mean, you sounded amazing from backstage-”

Adore whirled around, cutting Courtney off.

“This is not about my fucking singing, Courtney!”

“No, I know, that’s not what I-” the blonde shook her head, taken aback, reaching for Adore’s hand.

“You just don’t get it!” she continued, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “Do you know what it’s like for someone to look at you and think that who you are is so offensive that they can’t even be in the same room? That they can’t even have their kids look you? No, of course you don’t!” Adore’s voice broke. Courtney would never understand. How could she? She was perfect. No mother would ever pull their daughter away from looking at her. Any mother on the planet would kill for a daughter like Courtney. A beautiful little blonde angel, with a perfect face and a perfect body and a perfect boyfriend.

Courtney looked back at her, that dumbstruck, wide-eyed expression, compounding Adore’s rage with guilt. “Adore, I-”

“Forget it! Cause you’ll never know what that’s like. So...it’s fine. You know, I just…”

“Hey…” Raja stepped over to them, putting an arm around Adore’s shoulders. Adore turned around and buried her face against the older girl’s chest.

Courtney swallowed. She wanted to protest, to tell Adore that she did understand, that she misunderstood, that nobody cared more than her, that her heart was breaking, that her words had come out all wrong, but she couldn’t say any of that. None of this was about her. So she took a step back, whispering, “I’m sorry…”

Raja continued to rub Adore’s back. Courtney backed off even more, watching as Pearl and Jinkx approached, were granted access to the circle, offering words of encouragement, making Adore laugh.

Mrs. Maguire came rushing up to the group. “Adore,” she began, clearly ready to give one of her famous inspirational speeches.

But Adore sighed tiredly, wiping her eyes. “Mrs. Maguire, with all due respect, let’s just move on. I can’t really handle a pep talk right now.”

The teacher put a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, honey. But are you okay to finish the show? Because if not-”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Attagirl,” Mrs Maguire said, giving her a hug. “Let’s show these bastards some musical fucking theatre.”

Having Raja on her side saved Adore from losing it completely. Without explaining why, she immediately understood that her girlfriend wouldn’t want to talk to anyone during intermission, even her well-meaning friends and castmates. She guarded Adore’s privacy fiercely from anyone who approached, giving her the space to retreat into herself and process what had happened.

The anger and disgust had been awful—awful to see, awful to experience. But what kept Adore going was the auditorium full of people who had stayed. Knowing that her mother, her grandmother, her aunts and uncles, her cousins and friends, were all sitting out there, made her feel calm. When she felt like breaking down, like running away, she thought about them all out there. She could get through this performance, this terrible night. She could do it.

She was onstage for a lot of the second act, which helped keep her mind occupied. By the time the show ended, she was so emotionally exhausted that she didn’t even register the applause. Raja walked her outside to where her mother waited outside of the dressing rooms, holding a big bouquet of pink roses, pulling her into the tightest and most protective embrace she’d felt in a long time.

“I’m alright ma. I’m fine,” Adore tried to assure her mother, trying to keep her tears at bay.

“You sure?” Bonnie pulled back, looking into big hazel eyes, “because I swear-”

“I'm fine. I'm fine, promise,” Adore insisted, moving to hug her grandmother, who exclaimed over how good she was, then accepted high fives and fist bumps from her cousins and uncle. She was grateful that none of them mentioned what had happened, none of them pushed her to talk about it.

At least, not until everyone was piling into the cars a few minutes later, when Bonnie put a hand on Adore’s shoulder and pulled her to the side.

“Dory, I just want to make sure you're okay. Really, baby. Because if not, I can-”

“Ma, it's whatever, it happened. Whatever…” Adore shrugged her shoulders, avoiding her mother's gaze.

“Baby, it's not ‘whatever.’ I know you,” Bonnie grabbed both her shoulders, making Adore look at her. “This world is filled with a bunch of ugly, nasty-”

“I just like really don't feel like talking about this right now. Maybe another time. I want to eat and spend time with my family. Okay?” Adore pulled away from her mother.

“Okay. Just never let people like that make you feel unworthy, because you…are perfect.” Bonnie wrapped Adore into another tight hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Roy pulled into Courtney’s driveway, glancing over at her. She’d been uncharacteristically silent the entire drive home. Normally she’d be chattering away, musing about random topics or telling him stories about people they knew, emptying the entire contents of her racing mind, but tonight she was like a statue.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

He put the car in park and turned to face her. “You don’t seem fine.”

“Well, I have no right to be complaining tonight, so…I guess I’m fine.”

Roy frowned, searching for the right words. “I didn’t ask how you’re supposed to feel.”

Courtney stared straight ahead, blinking back tears. “Why are people so awful?” she finally choked out.

“Umm...I don’t...I don’t know.” He reached over and touched her hand, where her fingers were rubbing the charms of her bracelet.

A tear slipped down her cheek. “We worked so hard. She worked so hard. And they ruined everything. And why?”

“I...I don’t know, babe. But hey, it’s gonna be okay. Because she has us. You know? She has you. So-”

“You should have seen the way she looked at me. Like I was...like I was one of them.” Courtney let out a sob, breath hitching.

Roy swallowed, looking at her. “Court, you know...she’s not actually mad at you.”

Courtney turned her head towards him, nodding slightly. She crawled over the armrest and into his lap, burying her face into his neck. He held her close, stroking her back.

“It feels really shitty to make this about our friendship, with what she went through. But I feel...like something broke...and it hurts so much...and I don’t know how to fix it…” Courtney wept into Roy’s shoulder, tears soaking his t-shirt.

“I think she was just upset, and you were a safe person to take it out on,” Roy said. “Because she knows deep down that you’re gonna love her no matter what. I’m sure it’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Courtney pulled back, tear-stained cheeks shining under the streetlights. “You really think so?”

He cupped her face, gently brushing her tears away. “I really do.”

She leaned forward, kissing him. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“I know,” Roy replied, flashing her a grin.

Adore shoved a few books in her locker, cringing when she heard her name. She’d intentionally come late to school, hoping to avoid whispers and stares, wanting everyone to forget about last night, move onto the next drama.

“Delano, I’m talking to you,” Violet repeated.

“Hey Vies,” Adore said tiredly, shutting her locker and sagging against the cold metal doors.

Violet crossed her arms. “What a bunch of bullshit that was last night, huh?”

“I don’t really want to-” Adore began, but she was cut off by Violet continuing, her words bitter.

“Just so you know, this is why I fucking hate straight people.”

“Violet, not all straight people are-”

“ALL OF THEM!” Violet spat.

“Even your parents?” Adore asked, raising her eyebrow.

Violet looked at her like she was an alien who’d just arrived on the planet. “Um, hi, are you new? I fucking hate my parents.”

Adore laughed. “Right. What about Trinity?”

Violet slammed her hand against a locker. “Shut up! Why aren’t you more pissed?! I fucking want to kill those bitches! How dare they?!

“Vies…”

“What?!”

Adore bit her lip, eyes filled with tears. “Of course I’m pissed. And...scared. And confused. But mostly I’m just…”

Violet put her hands on the sides of Adore’s face as the tears spilled down her cheeks. “Adore…”

“I’m sorry, I’m just, I dunno. They don’t even know me. How can they hate me so much?”

“That’s right, they don’t. And you know, we don’t know them too well, but we do know one thing…” Violet held her face gently, looked directly into her eyes. “You are better than they will ever, ever be. Don’t forget that.”

Adore sniffled as Violet gently wiped her tears away.

“Fuck them. They are nothing. Okay? Just...we just have to keep being better. That’s how we win.”

“Okay.” Adore let Violet pull her into a hug, the fierce, rib-crushing kind that only she could give, so tight it nearly took her breath away, both comforting and painful. They stayed like that for a few moments, until Adore was gasping for air and had to break away, giggling slightly. “Alright, alright, I’m good. You don’t have to suffocate me.”

Violet smiled. “Damn it, you’ve foiled my plan.”

There was a pause, “So, I guess this means you're talking to me again?”

Violet snorted. “I think you learned your lesson.”

“Hey Vies?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Violet rolled her eyes, clearly uncomfortable now that their conversation had taken a sentimental turn. “Yeah, yeah, yeah...get your ass to class, you tardy bitch.”

“Copy that, ma’am.” Adore saluted, walking away.

“Oh, and Adore?”

“Yeah?” Adore asked.

“Me too, man.”

Adore smiled, blowing her a kiss, before taking a deep breath and heading to class.

Later that day, Adore sat nervously at Mrs. Maguire’s desk, fingers playing with the edges of her sleeves, trying to swallow down the uneasiness that rose up in her throat. She’d heard rumors that even more parents had come into school today to complain to the principal. Bob told her that one of them was Mrs. Lake, Darienne’s mom. She’d always known that Mrs. Lake was conservative, but she’d also known her since she was in second grade. The thought made her sick.

Mrs. Maguire sat down, soft blue eyes filled with compassion as she asked softly, “How are you doing today, honey?”

“Um...okay. Fine.” Adore bit her lip.

Nodding, Mrs. Maguire leaned forward on the desk, propping a chin up. “Yeah.” She heaved a sigh and then continued. “I know you said you didn’t want a pep talk last night, so I’m going to try giving you one right now. Is that alright with you?”

Adore nodded.

“It might not be one of my better ones, because...well, I’m pretty fucking pissed.”

Adore couldn’t help cracking a smile. It was always funny when a teacher swore.

“For the record, I’ve spoken to Principal Greene and agreed to give a more detailed disclaimer, but NOTHING in the show is changing. So there’s that. Everyone agrees that the show is perfectly acceptable. Your song, your whole arc, is one of the least offensive parts of this play. For god’s sake, Roy tries to date rape Alyssa, and then she gets back together with him, and punches another girl out for simply flirting with him. It’s like, a super problematic show that at no time tries to preach about morality, so this whole thing is incredibly stupid. But next year he wants a ‘family-friendly’ show, so I told him we’ll do something real sweet like The Sound of Music. Those PTA whores probably love singing nazis. Or a show about orphan abuse, that really gets them off.”

Adore laughed. “I’m digging this Riot Grrrl vibe, Mrs. Maguire.”

“You have no idea,” her teacher smiled, then said, “I’m so sorry you went through what you did, Adore. Truly. But I have to tell you, that the way you handled yourself - it was one of the bravest things I have ever seen in my life. You must have been terrified. And...I wish I could tell you that this is the last time you’ll ever face that kind of ignorant, pointless bigotry. But...it’s not. And, sometimes it will get easier to stand up to. Sometimes...not. But what you need to know, is no matter how many people are there looking at you with that dumb fucking hateful look on their faces...there are so, so many more who love and support you. Who have your back.”

A tear rolled down Adore’s cheek. She couldn’t help thinking about Courtney, how she’d pushed her away. That sick feeling in her stomach clawed it’s way back up into her throat.

“What you did on that stage was incredible. Because you told all of those people that they couldn’t break you. But Adore, if you hadn’t been able to keep going with that song, that would have been okay too. Because sometimes, we have limits. And that’s why we have friends, and classmates, and communities, to back us up. You follow me?”

Adore nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

“Don’t ever be afraid to ask for help, honey. Sometimes the strongest thing to do is to admit when you need a hand. Okay?”

“Okay.” Adore managed to whisper.

Mrs. Maguire had called the whole cast and crew in early for Friday’s performance, and as they filed into the auditorium for the meeting, Courtney felt dread gnawing at her insides. She had managed to avoid Adore all day at school, trying to give her some space, and the thought that she was still mad - or even worse, still in pain, weighed heavily on her.

But when Adore’s eyes met hers, they lit up with happiness, and she ran over, throwing her arms around her. Relief flooded through Courtney’s entire body as she hugged her back.

“Um…” Adore cleared her throat. “Sorry for being such a basket case crybaby last night. I didn’t mean-”

“No, you don’t have to...come here…” Courtney blinked back tears of joy, pulling her in for another hug. “It’s okay…”

“Thanks,” Adore said simply, laying a head on her shoulder.

“They’re not making you change it, are they?” Courtney asked. “Because if so, we should protest! We can make signs, and march over to the district office, and-”

“Okay, chillax, dude. No, we’re not changing it. But Mrs. Marguire did say that Greene wants a family-friendly show next year, so we’re probably gonna have to do Sound of Music or some lame shit like that.”

Courtney’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands, then off Adore’s scowl, covered her face, a little embarrassed. “Sorry...I like The Sound of Music…”

Adore shook her head. “You fucking nerd. Come sit with me…”

Courtney grasped Adore’s hands, skipping after her happily to sit down for the meeting.

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