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refriedweeb · 4 years

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PUT YOUR LIPS ON MY SKIN ( HAWKS + READER 18+)

A/N: heyyoo! refriedweeb here again with another request from @alexandria-selina and has elements of jealous hawks with his wings (from that tiktok head canon of them puffing out you know what I mean) and this post from @keiqos !

Prompt: “A jealous Hawks where his s/o gets hit on by another pro and she's blushing. She's just being shy but Hawks takes it as she likes it. Instead of getting into a fight with the pro, he shows his s/o why she shouldn't look at anyone else.”

Tags/Warnings: smut, overstimulation, jealousy, mirror fucking, spit, a lil bit of blood, rutting, feral, aftercare, kink, jealous, dirty talk.

Word count: 5,080

Keigo Takami hated hero events. He hated having to wear the Hawks persona day in and day out, especially when it came to being surrounded by his fellow pro heroes. Now, don’t get the guy wrong, he did enjoy what he did for a career despite any behaviors he had to unlearn from the hero commission themselves. He wanted to save people, he wanted to make the world a better and safer place. He just hated all the bullshit politics that came with it. They were heroes, hell. It wasn’t about making best friends and going to fancy events when there was always going to people out there that needed them while they clinked glasses of overpriced champagne.

Though, one thing Keigo didn’t think he minded that much was seeing you dolled up in a dress that led his mind to sinful, dark places. You and Keigo had only recently started dating, after months of him slowly starting to open up to you about the shit that he’d gone through, how he’d really felt about the commission once he’d gotten the sense that he could trust you. It’d been a struggle to call yourselves an item, but now that you could, Keigo felt what he could only assume was peace inside of a darkened and traumatized heart. There was also another emotion that was stirring in him that had nothing to do with peace, and all of those awful things that he wanted to do to your body. None that he would apologize for, of course.

It wasn’t his fault that the commission had decided to host a little event when he was in the peak of his rut season.

And oh, was Keigo in trouble. You’d recently started wearing a new perfume that had driven him up a wall the moment he’d caught the scent on you at the beginning of his mating season. It wasn’t sickly sweet, but sweet enough, and mixed perfectly with your natural pheromones to create a musk that drove his cock to twitch every time you shook some hair over your shoulder, stretched, fucking just breathed. He’d been unable to keep his hands off you for the majority of the weeks that had past, except as of late. You’d told him to keep his filthy paws to himself leading up to the event, not wanting to be bruised or love bit to all hell because Keigo couldn’t control himself. The way that he saw it, the dress you’d picked for the night was to torment him on purpose. Deep red velvet that matched his wings, settling over the curve of your hips, the flow of your waist.

You’d made him promise to be on his best behavior for the night, not wanting any trouble or any media to get wildly stories about what your relationship was really about. But damn, if the moment you were alone with him, he was going to tear that dress to shreds with what little talons he had in place of regular nails. You, on the other hand, your body had been spent. Keigo was insatiable on a good day, but ever since the rut season had started, it’d been exceptionally so. Not that you could complain, your body was sore in a much different, more appreciative way than you felt with sparring.

And yes, you had chosen the red velvet dress on purpose. It was your goal of the night to drive Keigo as out of his mind as possible. You couldn’t read him quite as well yet, your relationship still relatively new, and Keigo working through an entire lifetime of walls to protect his emotional security from the hero commission. His expression was a blank one, but when you locked eyes with him, Keigo gave you the smallest eyebrow raise as he looked you up and down. A silent stamp approval that had heat blossoming up your neck. He wanted to make that perfume you were wearing mixed with his own, he wanted to make sure that anyone who got a whiff of your scent knew who you belonged to. He wasn’t a fan of sharing by any means.

The night carried on, speeches given by the leaders of the commission (which you’d always found yourself by Keigo’s side much to his comfort), Endeavor’s speech, All Night’s retirement speech, and so on and so on. There’s been a light array of snacks while the pros mingled, finding yourself talking to Shinya Kamihara, otherwise known to the world as Edgeshot. It wasn’t very often you got to mingle with the top ten pros, your rank in the high teens, so you found yourself shy. Not quite sure how to handle yourself around such class, experiences, and amazing heroes. You were sure the blush on your cheeks, your neck, was visible from outer space. Shinya was a gentleman, he complimented you on your quirk, your work, and the little bit of history you’d talked to him about on why you had made your choice to become a hero. From your point of view, it was a harmless conversation that was borderline on friendly as you got to know the fellow hero, but from a certain outside perspective it was something a little more.

Keigo wasn’t paying attention to any of the conversation going on around him, his eyes were focused on you. The way you tipped your head back as you laughed, sending another ripple effect of your smell through the air. Was that bastard Edgeshot trying to move in on you? Did he really think he had a chance? He swallowed the jealousy in his throat, though his avian side had a mind of its own on this. His wings, proud and defensive, puffed out. This caused a stir of the other heroes around him, asking if there was something they missed that he’d alerted to. Keigo laughed, the same charismatic Hawks as always, saying they just needed a stretch. He crossed his arms, fidgeting with one of his cuff links. Keigo, jealous? Haha. HAHAHAHA...ha? His eyes were narrowed into slits as he watched you pat Edgeshot on the shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek before the other hero moved away.

His instinct was to claim you right then and there. To rub his scent all over you and yours on his so that no one else would mistake you as open. But...that’d certainly cause a scene and that was something he promised he wouldn’t do that night. So, Keigo bit back on his instinct, unclenched his jaw, and behaved for the rest of the night. Anything that came after that was entirely out of his control. You’d floated around to him throughout the night, not doing much outside of brushing hands together, a chaste smile shared between you. This was your first real hero event ever since you broke into the teens of your career, and it was one you wanted to soak in. Keigo knew this, and didn’t want to spoil it for you despite his own feelings on the event.

Keigo’s mood, his want, took a turn for the worse when it came to someone actually flirting with you. You, not experienced enough with the personalities of some of these heroes to realize what was happening. It wasn’t Edgeshot this time, no. Now...it was Ryo Inui, better known as Hound Dog. And he was like Keigo in a way that he wanted to mark whatever it was that he wanted. Ryo put his hand on the small of your back, where Keigo’s hand was supposed to go. He laughed when you laughed, leaning in close to you as like there was some desperate secret he needed to share with your ears only. Ryo was flirting with his girlfriend and was being so bold about it. No, nope. That would not do for him. His wings fanned out again, this time catching the attention of several people around him, you and Ryo included. Your mouth dropped open in awe at the sight, though when you caught Keigo’s eyes to see his pupils narrowed into slits, something like a firework set off in your belly.

That fucking mutt dared to spoil that perfume that sent him into a frenzy with his dog-like scent? That wasn’t something that Keigo could stand for in the slightest. That scent was you. It was the scent he had been planning on burying his own in.

The two of you left the event shortly after.

On the ride back to Keigo’s place, the car was silent. Not a word was spoken between the two of you, though it was full of tension in a way where if you breathed, you felt that you could choke on it. He drove fast, shifting gear after gear with aggression that made you wish it was your neck he gripped so hard. As you sat in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together to feel some of that much desired tension between your legs. This didn’t go unnoticed by Keigo, and he hissed.

Still, the two of you didn’t exchange words until you were behind the privacy of his front door. And even then, you spoke first. “Everything okay, Keigo?”

His pupils were still zeroed in on you, as he stalked towards you, every bit the predator bird that he was. And fuck, if it didn’t make you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You walked backwards, careful not to trip over the towering heels you were in. His body was hot, flush against yours though he refused to touch you. Keigo wanted to take his time with this, with devouring you. You’d rubbed it in his face how much the rest of the heroes wanted you, being the little flirt that you were. There was no need for him to rush into anything, the way Keigo saw it. “Oh, everything’s fine.” He commented, tone dark. “I could handle that nimrod Edgeshot eyeing you up like some desert, sure. I behaved,” Keigo tipped his head to the side as he shrugged. He’d managed to walk you back into the bedroom you’d been sharing recently.

“What are you talking about? Edgeshot was just being friendly!”

Keigo’s chuckle was cynical, but it turned the silk of your bundle into a pearl with how quickly it excited you. “He wanted to tear this dress of you just as much as I do.” How he was. “But then you had to go and be a little tease, didn’t you?” Keigo was watching you like a hawk would watch a mouse just before it clutched it in its’ talons. “Had to let Ryo rub himself on you like the mutt he is. In the middle of my rutting season.” Your back bumped up against the floor length mirror behind you as Keigo gripped your jaw, the sharp curve of what would have been talons biting into the skin there. “All I can smell on you is him.”

He clucked his tongue. Sharp, narrowed eyes lowered over your skin and back up. You were breathless and Keigo hadn’t even touched you yet. “That just won’t do, now will it, (Y/N)?”

“K-Keigo, I don’t know what you’re-”

A soft cry of pain rose from the back of your throat as his version of talons sank into your skin, enough to draw a little bit of blood. This was Keigo in his rutting form times a million, a possessive version of him you’d never seen before. Part of you was scared, but the larger part of you was excited. He wanted to claim you. He wanted to make you more than just his.

“I asked if that would do, (Y/N)?”

Unable to speak with how tightly Keigo gripped your jaw, you simply shook your head from side to side. No, it wouldn’t do. That crooked smirk brushed over Keigo’s lips, and you wanted to taste him so bad. Taste the anger on his tongue, feel the fury in the rows of his teeth. Keigo was pissed, more than anything, that someone had tried to erase his claim on you. So, the only way to make sure that never happened again was to mold the scent of you with his. “That’s a good little slut.” Keigo released his hand from your jaw, the faint tickle of blood that ran down your jaw sending a shiver down your spine.

Keigo turned surprisingly gentle as he turned you around, as he pressed your hands up against the curve of the mirror that you were facing. “I’m going to make you watch me claim you. Fuck you and fill you until there’s no fucking mistaking who you belong to.” His hands dug into the back of your skin, and you winced. “You keep these hands right here, and if you don’t, there’ll be problems. Do you understand, little bird?”

“Yes, Keigo.”

His devilishly wicked smile returned. And so did the greed in his hands. Keigo took his time groping you, the swell of your breasts full in his hands. The winding curves of your waist and hips. Down the silken road of the dress that he swore he’d destroy. He wasn’t soft, gentle. Keigo was at his brink already, but he wanted to take his time with torturing you for being such a teasing little whore. His hands gripped the sides of your thighs, plunged through the velvet fabric so that lines of red were exposed in the slits he left behind. A soft moan escaped you at the sensation of talons digging through your skin, and he watched your expression in the mirror’s reflection as he did it over your backside. “Do you like that, whore?” he whispered in your ear. “When I leave my mark on you? When all you can feel is me?”

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed in response. He buried his face in the juncture of your neck and collarbone, taking a deep breath in that still smelled like mutt, fueling his need to erase that smell completely. His kisses were wet, sloppy, tongue traced over the length of your collarbone, of your neck. A soft sigh escaped you, your grip on the perimeter of the mirror growing tighter as the need to touch Keigo grew. His teeth sank into the soft spot of your neck, your head falling back on his shoulder as he suckled the skin there, a patch of pink blossoming against the skin there that would eventually bruise. The assault against your neck and your shoulders didn’t stop there, either. He ran his nose along the length of your shoulders, leaving trails of wet, angry patches from where he’d bit and pulled at your skin. There wasn’t a single ounce of Keigo that was kidding when he said he was going to erase every trace of anyone on your body but him. His cock was hard, and it would have been so easy to just bury himself inside the soft warmth of your cunt, and god how he ached to.

But the best things came to those that waited.

While his tongue and mouth worked at your neck and shoulders, his fingers played with your breasts, groping and pulling at the skin there with reckless abandon. Fingers pinched at your nipples, sharpened nails ghosted across the tender flesh there. You shuddered, shifted where you stood as you ground against his hips, feeling the thick length of him there. Keigo had barely even touched you, but you could feel the pool of warmth between your thighs only growing wetter. “Keigo,” you mewled.

“Hmm?” his breath came hot against the ear he had been nibbling on, and your knees knocked together.

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

“Touch you where?” His tone sounded positively bored, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger that caused you to squeal.

“My pussy,” you caught sight of your own desperate expression in the mirror, all while Keigo looked like a predator playing with his food. And in that moment, you realized this was exactly what it was. Keigo was toying with you before he sent you to the next level of existence. Your legs quivered. “Play with me.”

“Have you been a good little bird?” He asked.

“Yes.”

His hum seemed to be a satisfied answer, because his hands left your breasts, finding a new home at the back of your dress. But rather than go for the zipper, Keigo simply tore the fabric. The sound of it ripping filled the room as it pooled down at your feet seconds later. Leaving you exposed save for the same colored red pair of panties you’d worn that night. The dress had left no room for a matching bra given the dip at your back it’d once had. But that was of no consequence to Keigo. Keigo let out a sharp breath through his teeth as he admired your body and all that came with it. His hands found the curve of your backside, kneading the flesh there with thought. You could feel the tent of him pressing in between your thighs, and you let him slip between your thighs, shifting your thighs back and forth to alleviate some of the tension in his cock for him.

On instinct, more due to the fact that the bird in him wanted to cover you in his scent and his cum, Keigo rolled his hips into you with a snap of a thrust. It pushed you forward, almost sending you colliding with the mirror. “Little bird, that wasn’t very nice of you.” He scolded, letting a finger draw under the band of your panty before lifting it up. A moment later it was slapping against your skin, and you hissed. “I’ll have to punish you. Such behavior tonight...” he drawled, quickly shedding his formal attire until he was dressed down to just his pants. Keigo pressed his chest against your back, rubbing himself against you. His free hand returned to one of your breasts, toying with the nipple there as he murmured in your ear, his voice husky.

Feral.

“So naughty tonight...” Keigo continued as his other hand slipped down the front of your body, underneath the dark red lace that had kept that pretty little cunt concealed from him. He found how wet you already were for him, slick glaze quick to coat his fingers as he ran them up and down between your legs. “Already so ready for me. You really are the little tease, aren’t you?” A moan escaped you as he teased the tip of his finger around the circle of your clit, but not quite touching it. “So filthy...” he went on, breath hot against where he’d drawn out hickies moments before.

You were so eager for him to be inside of you, already so wet for him, Keigo had the perfect punishment for you being so naughty. He brushed his thumb against your clit, and your grip on the mirror slid down as you fought not to grab onto him. He was tantalizingly slow as he circled around your clit, tapping against the swollen bud every so often but not often enough for what you needed in that moment. His chuckle was dry, the hand that had been playing with your breast sneaking up to your neck. Your thighs were slick with your need, your core on fire as he teased you closer and closer to your edge.

Keigo tipped your head back, opening your mouth as he leaned in. As he spat on the tongue you’d pushed out like the slut you were. Every possible hole he could find to fill you with, Keigo was going to. You weren’t going to be able to walk down the fucking street without a single person forgetting who you belonged to. “What do we say, little bird?”

“Thank you,” you rasped as he slid two fingers into you, feeling him stretch your walls as he slowly pumped them in and out of you. He was slow, methodical, holding your jaw in place so that he could look down at that awestruck expression on your face as he finger fucked you. Your belly was on fire, waves of fire rolling as your orgasm wound tighter and tighter around his fingers. Keigo could feel his own cock slick with his precum, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer himself.

“I don’t like it when other people look at you like you’re theirs for the taking,” Keigo muttered when he the tip of his nail along your clit. The featherlight sensation caused your knees to buckle, your hips to buck as you fell back into him. “You’re mine. And I’m going to fill you so fucking good that no one makes that mistake again.” He stretched your walls further with a third finger, and you writhed in your standing position as he continued to work those fingers in and out of you. The coil in your belly was wound tight enough where you thought

“Who do you belong to, little bird?” His fingers picked up pace, the sound of your silken glaze coating him filling the room while you fought to make your brain remember words. Your mouth hung open as he finger-fucked you, head bobbing against his shoulder as he looked down at you expectantly. “Tell your man who this pussy belongs to, and I’ll let you cum.” He could feel how close you were, the sound of your mewls turning to pants.

“You! It belongs to you!” you whimpered, grinding against his hand, your hips rolled forward to press his fingers deeper inside you. “Please, Keigo!”

This satisfied him enough, at least for now. His pace quickened still until your head was hung forward between your shoulders, moaning his name over and over as you watched him finger fuck you. Your orgasm was on the brink, the precipice of pleasure and all you needed was -

“Ah, fuck! Fuck, Ke-AH,” That needed push found you moments later and you were spilling around the spread of his fingers, your orgasm taking over you as your legs spasmed, knees buckling so that Keigo had to support you with a hand around your waist. Your grip on the outer of the mirror so ironclad you thought you’d break it. It rolled through you in waves, Keigo’s fingers sticky as he pulled them from you, suckling your sweetness of his fingers like it was candy. Shit.

“What a good little slut,” he whispered. The sound of his belt loosening, the pants falling, re-sparked that fire you’d just doused by orgasming. You could see his cock, curved and thick with a head already milking his cum. “Gonna fill you so good now, gonna fuck you full of my cum.” You watched, mouth dry as he milked himself with a fist. “Gonna watch me fuck you, baby bird.” You could feel the press of his head between your thighs, and you widened your stance to accommodate him.

Then, without warning, he thrust so hard into you, that you cried out in pain. His thrusts from the get go were borderline violent, painful as you fought against being thrown into the glass of the mirror. A hand fisted into your hair, pulling it sharply enough that you could feel the pain, but with enough leeway that you could still watch as he moved in and out of you, his cock already wet with what was left behind from your first orgasm. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the smell of sweet sex coming shortly after. You were unable to make any intelligible noises aside from mewls and gasps, while Keigo was behind you muttering to himself about how good your pussy felt, how it was made for his cock, how he was going to fill you up so fucking good.

The mountain climb to your orgasm started again, your cunt clenching around him as he thrust in and out of you with feverish need. His hips were sloppy, and you didn’t dare tear your eyes away from where he slipped in and out of you. “Such a sweet fucking cunt,” Hawks groaned, twisting your hair tighter in his fist. “My fucking pussy.” he hissed with a thrust that hit the highest point of your wall and caused you pain. Yet you didn’t dare stop. The look on Keigo’s face, the roll of his bottom lip between his teeth, let you know he was close to his high. The sight of him so focused on fucking you wound your belly tighter, and you missed the hand that slipped down to your clit once more. You cried out, the over-sensitized nub of your clit protesting as his thumb found it once more. The grip you had on the mirror shifted again, a move to get his hand away from where you were most sensitive.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he growled, and your legs quivered. His eyes were still narrowed into near-invisible slits as you obeyed the order. You shook, spasmed, as he raced your orgasm to line up with his.

“Please, please, ah, hrnngh, Kei-” your hips found the rhythm to match his almost instantly, and tears sparked in your eyes as the bundle of nerves exploded inside of your body, every nerve ending inside you set on fire, exploding as your second orgasm found you just moments before Keigo found his own.

“Fuck, fuck yeah, gonna fill you so fuckin-Urngh,” Keigo groaned, fucking into you with one last violent thrust as he spilled himself in you, shooting ribbons of cum that went scorching through your core. There was a moment as the two of you stood there, Keigo still inside of you, breathing heavily. You on the other hand, were shaking all over, barely able to keep yourself on both legs.

Keigo’s callused finger pad was still resting over your clit, and even the smallest shift sent a wave of pleasured pain coursing through your entire body. You were overstimulated, likely to cum if he persisted again. “Kei...” you whispered. His head was resting over your collarbone, hung low. He reached out and slapped your hand away, pressed it back to the mirror. He wasn’t done with you.

“Told you, little bird. Gotta punish you.”

A whimper rolled through you, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” you let out a whine as he tapped his thumb against you again, slowly rolling a half-hard cock in and out of you as he started at your clit again. Massaging it slowly, cruelly. Your legs bowed out, slack as it was on Keigo alone to keep you supported with your weight against his chest. “Gotta make sure you know,” his hips snapped against yours again, and those tears that had been hidden in your eyes slipped loose. “That no one else is gonna fuck you this good. No one’s gonna make you feel this good.” he said, your body screaming at you for relief, for the prickling of nerves in your skin to cease. “You’re my good little slut.” You could feel whatever remnants of his cum shooting out into you once more, wetness cascading down your thighs.

The perfume you’d been wearing now, Keigo noted, was mixed so heavily with his own pheromones and sex, that there was no mistaking who fucked you at night. Who you were mated to. You were all Keigo’s, and that was what mattered to him. But he still had to finish punishing you for being a little tease, for allowing that musky scent to be tarnished by anyone other than him. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess, flushed against his body as your hips moved on their own accord in time with the fingers he was using between your sopping lips. Your cries were pained, unintelligible pleas to cum and be released. Yet, he took his time. Feeling that sweet cunt clamp down around his fingers once he pulled out of you. A moment’s reprieve before his fingers stretched you all over again. He wound you tighter, and tighter, sending that fire racing through your veins.

“I can’-” you cried out, a threatening wave of pleasure and pain coursing through you. “Please let me cum, please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” tears were wet against your cheek as he played with you.

“You promise, little bird?”

“Yes! Yes I promise!” you begged.

After all that time of keeping your hands on the perimeter of the mirror, your third and final orgasm had them flying to Keigo’s hair for stable purchase as it overtook you. Your sobs filled the room as your rode out the final orgasm, your chest heaving in shuddering breaths as Keigo worked you through it, held onto your body tightly to keep you from collapsing. Your legs were soaked, your nether region slick from top to bottom. Keigo pulled his fingers from inside you, slick and thick coated with both of your bodily fluids. His eyes met yours through the mirror as those fingers dipped between your lips, pushing them onto the flat of your tongue as you lapped and sucked them clean. Only when he was satisfied you’d gotten every last drop of each other’s cum, did Keigo pull his fingers from your mouth.

“You did so good, little bird.” he cooed in your ear, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your ear as he placed gentle kisses to sweat-soaked hair. Brushed away the tears on your cheeks. “Such a good girl,” he said, a hand smoothing over the places he’d bitten and marked you. Lips gentle as he pressed chaste kisses to the place on his jaw where his talons pricked you. The feral need for Keigo to fuck you into oblivion was satiated for now, his touch now gentle as he caressed and soothed you, the aftershocks of an overstimulated orgasm lessening as time lapsed. He was pleased that your scent now, was so heavily mixed of him and that perfume. No one was going to act as Hound Dog had, especially now. His lips were soft against your temple, his thumbs tender against the curve of your shoulders. It was a scent he was immediately fond of, and a scent he’d do anything to protect, to maintain. Keigo hummed, folding you up into the safety of his arms, surrounded by nothing but contentedness.

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kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years

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REQUEST (Nerd!Felix/Yongbok x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, humiliation, degradation, brat taming, watersports, breath play, rough filthy shit. Read at own risk.

"If that isn't our little Yongbokkieeee~" Felix sighed and shut his eyes tightly when he heard the familiar dreadful voice from behind, holding the straps of his school bag even tighter. "Aigoooi~ aren't you in a hurry, foreign booooy?" Her perfectly manicured hand placed on the boy's shoulder, pulling him back.

"Let go, Y/n-ah…" The boy spoke, trying his best not to snap at the little slut. She was so foolish. A fucking clown. A narrow minded little racist bitch. That's what.

"Ahhhh… your Korean is soooo adorable…" Before she moved to stand in front of him, heavy tits tightly packed in her school shirt, the first few buttons up. "What's the rush, Aussie boy? Too proud to make friends? Tsk, tsk!" Felix felt like smacking her infuriatingly cute little face.

"You know it's not like tha-"

"LISTEN UP, EVERYONE!" Y/n clapped and got everyone's attention, the whole hallway of students going home stopping to look at her. "OUR FOREIGN BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE FRIENDS~" she pouted as if it really hurt her. "HE AVOIDED ME ALL DAY IN SCHOOL TOO! HOW PROUD, TSK!" Everyone booed him, calling him names and whatnot. It was terrible.

Had he known moving to Korea was going to be like this he'd have never agreed. They made fun of his looks, his accent, the grammatical errors he made and his English name that he preferred. Even though Felix was using his English name in his documents now that he was all grown up, Y/n had somehow learnt his Korean one and she wasn't going to let him live it down.

"Aigo what a loser" splashing the juice in her hand at his shirt, the girl clicked her tongue and walked away while laughing, leaving the boy in absolute despair due to how badly it stained his shirt.

He didn't want to hurt her because she was clearly fucking naive and dumb but fuck. Y/n was making it fucking hard.

Felix checked his room one last time to make sure it was clean and smelt nice with just the right amount of ventilation. Setting his books up on the foldable desks he'd set up on the bed, the boy opened up the other desk too. His mom had asked him if he could teach her bestfriend's child some English as they were apparently in the same year as him. The boy was happy to help and agreed so now his mom's friend was going to drop the kid off at their house that he didn't know anything about.

And who else could it be other than the one and only. How fucking cliche.

The male was unsure of how to act when he heard his mom's voice and another women's before his door was knocked, opening as Mrs. Lee along a stern looking tall and built women in a police uniform appeared.

Felix got up and respectfully bowed to the women as she greeted him back, her friendly smile really unusual for her stern features. "Hello, dear. Thank you so much for your kind gesture. I've been looking for a good teacher for quite some time now but my child is… slow." She chuckled. "Maybe it'd be easier for her if someone her age teaches her…"

"Oh, of course. No problem at all. I'd be actually very happy to help. That way I get to revise too and study from a different perspective, ma'am." He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face. Oh. She was trying her best to hide behind her mother but Felix had seen the pathetic little girl.

Oh how fucking perfect.

"Ah I hope my kid can learn well from you in not just academics but manners too… Now! Y/n-ah- where…" Her mother looked for her before turning around to find her hiding, gripping her wrist and pulling her in front of the taller boy. "There you are. Now… learn well okay? Felix will take well care of you" her mother glanced at the boy and he nodded, bowing a little bit as he said of course.

Y/n was trying not to die as she was made to stand right in front of fucking Yongbok out of all! How was she so stupid?! She should have put two and two together! Oh fuck! This was bad! This was terrible for her image! Now he knew that she was looking for tuition and not all that careless about studies as she seemed to act like back in school. And she also wasn't a badass in her private life.

Fuck.

"Be good. I'll pick you up on my way back, alright?" The girl had non-existent balls to brat with her mother as she was a firm police woman and knew how to get brats going. She had gotten enough harsh punishments from her mom to even dare to try. Y/n did her best to pretend to be a good kid. Or her mom had threatened to send her off to juvi or a boarding school! "Hm?"

The girl whimpered, feeling the boy's gaze burn into her very soul. "Y- Yes, mommy." She could only whisper back, head lowered all the way.

"Good baby. Now give mommy a kiss." Y/n could die of embarrassment right now, her cheeks burning as she felt humiliated. Oh she had no idea what was coming her way. This was nothing. Her mother still treated her like a 4 year old baby and not like she was 18. It was so fucking stupid!

"Y- Yes, mommy…" There was no use hiding. Yongbok could see it all and he was quietly observing it. Standing on her tippy toes because of being much smaller than her mom, Y/n kissed her cheek. "Bye, mommy." The copper ruffled her daughter's head before leaving with Felix's mother who was also dressed for work.

Lowering her head even more when it was just the both of them, Y/n held her bag right as she didn't turn around, not wanting to face the smug boy, whimpering when he stepped forward to close his door.

"She… doesn't know, does she?" Felix's deep voice pierced through her soul as he turned around to look down at her now, grinning wide. "Tsk… look at this cute little turtleneck and long skirt… those baby shoes and these pigtails…" Y/n felt her heart starting to pound when he suddenly tugged at her twin ponytails, her cheeks feeling even hotter in pure humiliation. "If only you were actually a good babygirl like your 'mommy' thinks and not a skimpy little slutty whore ridiculing people for no fucking reason at school" clicking his tongue, the boy walked to his bed and plopped on it in a relaxed manner, well aware that he had her exactly where a bitch like her should be. "I wonder how she will react if she finds out that you are actually-"

"N- NO PLEASE!" Y/n finally found her voice and rushed to him, helplessly pleading. "PLEASE DON'T TELL M- MOMMY! I- I AM SORRY!" She struggled, not knowing what to say. This was so awkward and strange. Something she'd never thought of. Fuck.

"Ahhh so you really are an all talk whore, tsk. Acting all cool and fearless in school but actually a pathetic little mommy's baby." Felix chuckled tauntingly and shook his head, eyes cold. Months. She'd been troubling him for months simply because he was a foreigner and made mistakes in Korean. "Come here, let me see. I wouldn't be surprised if you're also wearing a nappy under that cute skirt. Do you need a change?" He teasingly went to grab her arm which caused the girl to stagger backwards.

"N- No! No, Y- Yon- Felix! I- I swear I am not! I am not wearing a-- p- please! Don't do this! I- I won't bother you again! You don't even have to tutor me! Just please don't tell mom!" Y/n hated how pathetically she had to beg him.

"Ah… so it's suddenly Felix now, huh?" The male chuckled before speaking again. "Since I am not a pathetic slut like you, I won't tell your mom but in exchange, you'll have to be good for me. If you oblige, good. If you don't, I'll have to tell her, little one. Because what you're doing will end up harming someone really bad."

The girl desperately dropped her bag, sitting in his feet and holding his knees. "Y- Yes! Yes! Alright! I'll be good! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't tell mom! I don't wanna go to juvi or boarding-" her eyes widened before she slapped her mouth shut. Oh no! She didn't just tell him that!

Felix threw his head back and laughed. "Ahhh so it's like that, I see…" He was enjoying this. Looking down at her, Felix felt something stir inside him as his eyes got darker. She looked so fucking perfect kneeling under him like this. It was getting so hard to hold back now that he had her. "Fine. If you don't want to go to boarding or juvi, you'll have to be my little fuck piggy. And when I say that, I mean it. You'll be my literal plaything and there will be no denying my orders. You'll have to obey and be good like a brainless little slave doll… You will only know what I allow. You will only do as I say. No using your own brain, not that it is very smart anyway… That is the price." He had always had… dark desires. Which was one of the reasons he'd never dated much. But when Felix had seen Y/n all those months ago in school for the first time, he had unintentionally imagined how it would feel to ruin her to the point of despair before building her back up.

And now that he was so close to having it. Fuck. The boy was going insane.

Y/n nodded slowly, tears forming in her eyes as she bit her lip. "Y- Yes, I… I agree. I- I'll be your d- doll, Felix… J- Just please d- don't tell anyone… I- I beg you… I- I don't wanna g- go to boarding or…" A sob left her, his finger catching her tear amidst of falling down.

This was so wrong. But she deserved it. Felix was absolutely disgusted by bullies.

"Don't worry. Like your mother said, I'll take goood care of you." The naive girl had no idea what she had signed herself up for or just what his words meant. "Then… why don't you prove your worth by getting up and stripping to let me see my belongings... And, get those dirty little hands off. Fuck toys don't deserve to touch Master unless allowed." Felix swatted them off.

"W- What? M- Master…? S- Strip?" Y/n was lost.

"What else did you think? Some Wattpad romance where I make you my little sidekick or something before I confess that I've liked you all along?" Raising an eyebrow he pushed her back. "Get to it."

"B- But F- Felix-!"

"It's Master!" The male firmly spoke as he glared down at her, yanking one of her pigtails. "Come on now… time's running and we don't have all day my little toy. You better start behaving before it's too late…" Her sobs and tears satisfied him so much.

Y/n slowly got up with her head lowered, trembling as she stepped out of her shoes, slowly pulling her socks off. "I- I can't believe I am doing this in front o- of you.." She whispered while struggling to not collapse on her knees, literally shivering under his firm gaze.

"I also couldn't believe a person as rotten as you existed." Before he grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling her closer and snorting when she gasped, flinching when he leaned back again. Felix's foot trailed up her shaking leg, the top of his foot rubbing against her covered core before he grabbed the waistband of her panties with his toes, pulling them down from under the skirt. "Ahh… so little girl's mommy really doesn't put her in nappies, I see…" Before he looked back up at her face, his foot resting on the underwear between her ankles now. "Skirt off now."

The girl was wiping at her tears as she shakily undid the skirt before letting it fall, her heart pounding even harder when the cold air attacked her core before he made her pull her shirt up and off, suddenly ripping her bra off which caused her to scream.

"Tsk… you sure are jumpy and scaredy for how tough you act." The boy shook his head, feeding off her misery. "Pick that underwear up." Y/n reached for it when he finally removed his foot from the top of it, stepping out of it and picking it up, even her ears red now out of humiliation. "Put it on your head." Another sob left her as he pinched and played with her breast, loving the authority he had over her.

"Fe- M- Master…" Shaking her head, she tried to back away but Felix wasn't having it.

"What did I just fucking say?!" He snapped, towering over her when the boy stood up, making her cower down before she put the smelly article over her head, biting her lips to stop her sobs from escaping. "Such a good toy…" Felix cooed this time, rubbing her head as he pulled it down and covered her eyes with the waistband, pulling her pigtails out of the sides.

"Fuck… you look good. Just how a dumb brainless slut should look." Fishing his phone out, he smirked. "This proves how you've no problem with being brainless. You look fucking retarded but you're doing it because Master said it. That's exactly what this is about. Obedience" before he suddenly kissed her briefly, making her gasp.

"Now~ smile wide for a picture…" Before he turned the camera on and stepped back, making sure her whole body was in frame. Fuck. Felix was so fucking painfully hard. "Come on… don't be shy" he taunted when she sobbed in protest, making him switch to video instead. "Fine, then." His taunting smile dropped to a firm expression as he approached her, placing his feet on hers before he smacked her face, catching it all on camera.

"Aigooo~" he mimicked her, smacking her other cheek, uncovering her eyes but still keeping the underwear on her head. He decided that it will be a new style for her. "Look at this whore~" Y/n's flushed cheeks now received some more slaps before he placed his hand on her nose and pushed it back, chuckling loudly. "Awww such a cute little fuck piggy we have here… she loves this doesn't she?" When she continued to cry, Felix smacked her head and pulled at the girl's ponytail. "DOESN'T SHE?"

"Y- Yes, Master! Yes!"

"Good girl" pushing her nose back to look like a pig's again, the male spat at it. "Now tell Master you're thankful. Get on your knees and be good."

"T- Thank you, M- Master…" The girl cried out, slowly getting on her knees now. "Thank you s- so much…" Felix parted her legs by his foot, cutting the footage and tossing his phone on the bed before kicking her pussy, causing Y/n to jerk forward, face banging straight into his cock.

A moan left him before he grabbed both her ponytails, wrapping them around his hands. "Now I have a present for you. I bought it all a while back and have been keeping it hidden and safe for when I get a fuck piggy. And now that you're here, I'll give you it."

Yes, Felix was pissed at her and yes, he loved destroying her but he was no asshole. She still had that cute little whore face he adored.

Crouching down in front of her, he gripped her chin and kissed her lips again, ignoring her gasp and kissing her again before spitting right on her tongue. "Swallow it and wait for Master to be back. Face down and ass up. I shouldn't have to fuckin repeat myself."

Y/n trembled as she struggled to swallow his spit, bowing down on the ground, slowly raising her nude ass back up. A few moments passed with Felix bringing stuff over and near her, fumbling with things in his closet before he finally closed it and walked to her. "Aren't you lucky? Finding an owner without even looking. There's so many pets like you who have no Master… or not a good one at least, you know…" Standing behind her, Felix rubbed the lube all over the tiny and thick piggy tail assplug. "Aren't you lucky?"

The girl knew what he wanted to hear so she nervously started, having no idea what the boy was about to do. "Y- Yes, Master… v- very luc- AHHHH!" She could only lay there and weakly cry as Felix laughed loudly at her scream because he'd pushed the plug in, tapping her ass.

"Good piggy~" the male cooed and hooked a thin chain to a small loop on top of the plug, slowly making her sit up in silence, the only sounds being her weak sobs. "Just… give in… it'll hurt less that way and you'll be happier." His eyes were trained on what he was doing, the long chain extending from down her plug having nose hooks at the other end that he plugged in her nose, chuckling when her eyes widened as she located the small cage in front of her.

"Oh, yeah. That is your new crib" Felix was clearly loving this. Kissing her stretched little piggy nose, he placed the pink piggy ears on her underwear covered head, followed by a pink collar that had a small bell attached to it. "You look so beautiful…" Kissing her lips again, Felix attached weights to her nipples, making her whine out in pain as she tried to stop his hands. "Oho~" he swatted her hands away, grabbing the piggy hands and feet before putting them on her, finally folding her limbs and binding them.

"Hmmm… that's like a good filthy little fuck pig." Before he attached a leash to her collar and gulped, feeling his balls ache now due to the masterpiece he'd made, pulling at the leash to have her crawl in the cage before he closed it, chuckling at how she kept tripping. "Clumsy pig." Before he started to take pictures, taunting and humiliating her all the while.

When Felix was satisfied with the photoshoot, he opened the cage and walked to the bed, holding her leash and pulling her with him. "Now… the fun part." Before he tucked his aching cock out much to her horror, sitting down on the bed and pulling her in between her legs. Pumping his cock a little, the male moaned loudly as he started to piss on her face, chuckling loudly when she yelled and protested, trying to move away but only falling on her face, choking when he harshly pulled at her leash, forcefully pushing his cock in her mouth. "You better swallow that!"

Y/n started crying loudly again, wails leaving her throat as his hot piss started travelling down her throat, making her choke and gag as he loudly laughed. "What a useless piggy! Can't even be a good urinal." Before he smacked her face again, now starting to fuck her mouth fast and rough, hitting his hard tip against the back of her throat before forcefully pushing in, a trail of piss and spit hanging down her lips.

"Fuck… fuck…" Felix moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside of her and pulsating from how fucking good it felt. From her soft mouth to her tight throat, to how he could see his cock against her skin, her eyes widened when her breath supply would totally cut off from his balls getting stuffed between her lips.

"Fuck… you're no good… I'll have to train you plenty" her cries were causing shivers and vibrations up his cock as he fucked her face up and down his cock by her ponytails, kicking her pussy as he went faster and faster, his hips starting to ache from how much strength it was causing.

"What a dumb slut!" Pulling his cock out of her throat, he kicked her on her back, making her arch her back when the tail plug brushed against the floor. "I need that useless fucking pussy now. It better be worth it." Y/n felt scared and nervous for her vagina now as he warned and crawled over her now, pushing his way forcefully inside, biting down at her lip when he felt her hymen tear and lube his cock up.

"I am going to make an absolute mess out of you." He promised, his deep voice sending shivers down her sweaty body. "My mess."

I am sorry if it was too rough sjskso you said like bullying gone wrong-

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owl-with-a-pen · 3 years

Note

brainy or nia try on karas glasses one day and kara realizes that they were brenda/brandon?

- Oh my god, yes! Thank you for the prompt. x

“No, no,” Alex said decisively. “It’s been years and I still don’t get it. How the hell do glasses make it impossible for people to recognise you? I’d know you from anywhere.”

Nia grinned from across the table, lifting her drink to her lips as Alex pinched Kara’s cheek, only to be batted away by her little sister a second later.

“Okay,” Kara said with a snort. “Your next round is gonna be water shots.” She turned her head from the table, making a show of searching the bar. “Where’s Al?”

“Oh, you know he heads out back the second this party rolls in,” Kelly said with an impish smile, raising her own glass. She took Alex’s hand before she could pester Kara any further, winding their fingers firmly together. “Although, I have to agree with the water.”

“Hydration would appear useful at this stage,” Brainy added with a sage nod. “She may also benefit from lining her stomach with something a little more substantial.”

Nia grinned, leaning back against Brainy’s chest. “Is that your not-so-subtle hint that you want more onion rings?”

She’d perched herself on the edge of Brainy’s stool some time into the evening; her smile widened when she felt his hands link around her front in response. “Sometimes, multiple issues can call for a single solution,” Brainy pointed out, tucking his face into her hair. “What is the saying? Two birds, one stone?” Nia's face warmed when Brainy’s lips traced idly along the side of her jaw.

Kara grinned. “Well, hey, I’m not gonna say no to more onion rings.”

It was fair to say that they’d all had a few drinks between them by now, although Kelly and Alex were strictly drinking from the human menu. Things always got a little whacky with alien grade alcohol, and despite her half-Naltorian genetics, Nia had barely been able to stomach a single sip of Brainy’s drink of choice. It suited his tolerance level far better, and made for a slower automatic response for his body to factor out the alcohol and sober him up. If his sudden confidence with intimacy in a public environment was anything to go by, Nia figured it was definitely working.

Nia knew Kara was drinking something similar to Brainy, although her Kryptonian biology made her far more resilient against its contents. She wasn’t even slurring.

Meanwhile, Nia was feeling all kinds of warm inside. Although, Brainy’s hold on her was probably a major factor in that.

It had felt like forever since they’d last gone out like this, and from the recent stress they’d all been under, it wasn’t exactly surprising that they’d found their way to Al’s bar. Plus, after the number of times they’d saved this place from one catastrophe or another, they got some incredibly generous discounts even on some of the rarer beverages. It was just unfortunate that Alex’s human tolerance really wasn’t matching up. And, considering Kelly was still on her first drink, she was currently the only person everyone was sorely worried about getting home safely that night.

With that in mind, Nia was just about to suggest heading up to the bar to go order, when Alex made her move, whipping her hand out quick enough to snatch Kara’s glasses straight from her face, balancing them across her nose.

She turned to Kelly immediately, staring at her levelly. “Well?” she asked expectantly. "How do I look?”

“It’s like looking at a total stranger,” Kelly deadpanned. She smirked, leaning in closer. “Although, they do make you kinda mysterious.”

Alex’s smile broadened. “Oh really?”

“My turn!” Nia chirped, plucking the glasses from Alex’s face. She rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin up with her hands the moment she had the glasses on. She narrowed her eyes, testing out her new perspective. As anticlimactic as it was, nothing really changed. It was just like staring through two pieces of clear glass. Nia pouted. She supposed it wasn't unexpected - that was exactly what she was doing, after all.

“It’s weird being able to see clearly while wearing someone’s else’s glasses,” Nia mused, playing around with the glasses’ temples, wiggling them up and down in front of her face. “Has anyone who didn’t know your secret ever done this before?” She jerked her head up, snapping her fingers. “Ooh, I know, I bet you just tell them you both need the same prescriptions. Am I right, or am I right?”

Kara didn’t answer.

“...Kara?”

When Nia turned, she realised that Kara was staring directly at her, a half-stunned daze in her eyes.

“What, did the alcohol finally kick in?” Nia prodded good-naturedly, only for Kara to reach out suddenly, taking the glasses away from her. “Hey! I was using those!”

Kara remained silent. Instead, with unnerving intensity, she came forward, slipping the glasses onto Brainy’s face. Brainy jerked from the unexpected contact, lifting them away from his nose as though they'd burned. He blinked quickly in affront, eyeing Kara suspiciously. “What was that for?” he asked.

“It was you two,” Kara said mildly; her voice sounded far too calm for comfort, like she was on the verge of a full-blown freak out. “All those years ago, in Midvale. It was you.”

Nia spluttered at the exact same moment as Brainy. She snapped her head towards him desperately. “What?” she asked, registering the panic in Brainy’s eyes that she knew was reflected identically in her own. “No—what—no?” She dug her hand into her boyfriend’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I have no idea what you are- what she’s talking about-” Brainy snorted defensively. “Do-do you?”

Nia nudged him nervously, eyes wide. “I just said I didn’t, genius.”

“...Right,” Brainy said quickly, clearing his throat. He raised his voice, turning back to Kara. “Two admissions though! Thus further proving that we have no idea what you are talking—”

But, Kara was still staring, a cold glare of certainty in her eyes. “I’d know that scrambling for an excuse anywhere,” she said, taking Brainy’s hands and guiding the glasses back into place over the bridge of his nose. She met no resistance this time, Brainy was far too busy gaping at her. “Brendan.” She turned to Nia accusingly. “Brenda.” Her lips split into a pained smile. “Rao- I thought you two were hiding something, but I was willing to accept it, because... I thought you were lost.”

“In our defence, we sorta were,” Nia admitted sheepishly. “The crash wasn’t part of the plan.”

It was Brainy’s turn to nudge her. “Nia.”

“Give it up, Brainy.” Nia cringed. “We’re caught.”

Kara ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head in bewilderment. “What were you guys even doing there? When did this even happen for you?”

“When you were in the Phantom Zone,” Nia said slowly, ducking her head.

“We needed your DNA,” Alex said softly. It sounded as though the recent commotion had done a good job at sobering her up. “To track you down.”

“It was thanks to these two that we were able to save you at all,” Kelly added.

Something crossed Kara’s expression then, but it was so quick that Nia barely caught it. All she knew was that in that moment, Kara looked entirely vulnerable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked weakly.

Brainy swallowed hastily. “Had you known our true identities in 2009, it would have caused ramifications in the timeline that could have irrevocably changed the future.”

“I don’t mean then,” Kara said sharply, attention snapping to Brainy. Her expression fell. “Why not when I came back?”

“It didn’t seem… necessary,” Brainy said uncomfortably. Nia felt his grip tighten back around her and ran her hand across his arm, squeezing gently.

Kara scoffed, folding her arms. “Not necessary? You guys were in my past—you saved my life, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“So much happened,” Nia said carefully. “Kara, we didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already had been.”

“Come here,” Kara said suddenly.

Nia blinked her surprise, catching Brainy’s eyes quickly for confirmation. Hesitantly, Brainy nodded, unlocking his arms from around Nia’s waist. Nia slipped from the stool, stepping towards her alongside Brainy.

They stared at her unsurely for all of two seconds before Kara came forward, swooping them both into the most intense super hug Nia thought either of them had ever experienced.

Nia gasped for breath, wrapping her free arm automatically around Kara’s back. The brush of Brainy’s fingers confirmed to her that he had done just the same.

“I never thought I’d get a chance to say this,” Kara murmured into the space between them. “But, thank you. Both of you, for everything that you did.”

“For... saving your life?” Brainy asked, voice muffled with confusion. “You’re... very welcome?”

Kara laughed, pressing her face into his hair. “Not that. Okay, well, of course that. But,” She sighed, drawing away again, her hands still locked tightly against each of their arms, “you both came to me at a time where I was questioning so much. My future, my identity, my place on Earth. I was hurting, in more ways I ever let on. And without you two—I don’t know what I might have done differently.”

Nia smirked. “Wait…” She turned her head towards Brainy. “Does that mean we were always meant to travel back to 2009?”

“Pre-destined time travel.” Brainy pondered on that thought for a long moment, his lips twitching into a smile of his own. He shrugged. “I suppose stranger things have happened.”

“You did crash, though,” Alex pointed out from across the table.

Brainy shot her a glare.

“Destiny,” Kelly cut in, sighing dreamily. “I like that, though.”

Nia knocked Brainy’s arm playfully. “Just like how you coming to this time gave you the chance to live freely. With us.” Nia squeezed her boyfriend's hand secretively before she turned back to Kara, smile softening. “Maybe we gave that same chance to you, too.”

“Thank you,” Kara said again. She blinked, wiping quickly at her face where tears were near approaching. “I- I don’t even think just saying that cuts it.”

Nia's smile widened mischievously. “Hey, does that mean the next round isn’t on us?”

Brainy raised a finger in consideration. “I believe tap water is on the house, anyway.”

“Hey, no water,” Alex shot back. “And you guys are not getting out of shots that easily.”

They all laughed at that. And, just like that, Nia felt as though an invisible tension that had been tethering them together had finally loosened.

She smiled as she re-joined her family back at the table, hand-in-hand with Brainy.

For the first time in a long time, it really felt like everything was going to be okay.

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

daddy issues - chapter x

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I looked over at the man driving beside me, a feeling of comfort and gratitude suddenly washing over me. Over the last five weeks, Ransom had truly been the partner I had always hoped to have a baby with, even if we weren’t together in the way I originally would have wanted to be with my child’s father.

It almost didn’t matter though, because he was always around. Whenever I needed something, even if it was the middle of the night, he didn’t seem to mind that we lived on opposite ends of the city. He would drop by with my favorite junk food and leave without complaining.

I’d even started to let him sleep on the couch when I figured it was too late for him to drive back by himself. He never tried to make a move again, which was so relieving to me, especially since my pregnancy hormones were begging me to climb him like a tree. But also now that we got to spend actual time together, I’d come to learn he was a very interesting man. Sure, very immature in a lot of ways, but it almost added to his charm, somehow.

It didn’t help my goal of containing my attraction.

We’d gone to two doctor’s appointments and he truly was doing his very best to show me he was here for me - or maybe he just really was excited about having a child. If there was something I’d come to realize in our talks, it was that Ransom didn’t have a particularly loving childhood, so it warmed my heart to see how invested he was in making sure our kid wouldn’t go through the same things that he did.

“Hey,” I called out for his attention, reaching over his lap to squeeze his thigh. “Thanks for doing this with me.” His eyes were a bit wide when they met mine, but his smile mirrored my own.

“Thank you for inviting me. Can’t believe you trust me enough to want to introduce me to your parents.” That made me chuckle. His honesty was overwhelming most times, but it was also one of the traits I liked the most about him, now that I’d become used to it. If there was one thing I could be completely sure of, it was that Ransom Drysdale would not hide how he was really feeling to please anyone. And somehow, that calmed me down.

“Honestly,” I responded, excited with this opportunity to tease him. “Me too.” The insulted gasp that he released had me giggling right away, risking a glance to the side to check that he had actually understood that I was only teasing him. The way the corners of his mouth turned up let me know that he did.

“Okay,” he conceded, nodding but keeping his eyes on the road ahead. We were almost in my childhood neighborhood, I could recognize it even with my eyes closed. There was no logical reason for it, just an instinctive, deep calling, that made me feel at ease around the streets I hadn’t walked for so long. “I guess I deserved that.”

It was silent then, as he slowly drove us to the cul-de-sac my parents had lived in for the last thirty years. Nothing had really changed, and that showed a lot of the people who inhabited it. If Ransom was nervous at the prospect of meeting the grandparents of his future child, he didn’t show. Or well, I didn’t realize it.

“Hey!” I tried to match my parent’s excitement as they almost ran out of the house to meet us by the car, the second we’d stopped in front of the place I had grown up in. I barely had the time to prepare - I’d hoped I would have gotten a few more words in with Ransom, decide what we would say - but it warmed my heart to imagine them by the window, excitedly waiting for us to arrive.

“Oh my, you’re so big already!” My mom exaggerated, prompting me to roll my eyes as I noticed Ransom and my father shaking hands, our luggage already in my companion’s hands. “You really should have told us sooner,” she chastised, but I was prepared for that.

“Mom, c’mon. You know I had a lot to figure out, I didn’t want to let you guys know about a baby that I still had a high risk of losing, and on top of that, I had tons of classes to prepare.” My mom nodded, her eyes never straying from where her hand rested on my belly. I knew she understood it, she was just having a hard time grasping the concept of her baby having a baby.

“Shall we go inside?” Ransom followed closely, dropping the bags at the entrance when my father approached to give me his own inspection. I chuckled lightly at his furrowed brows until finally, he seemed satisfied with what he found and embraced me against his comfortable chest.

“Good to see you, kiddo. And I’m glad you’ve brought Ransom here for us to meet! We’ve prepared the room for you guys, would you like to go upstairs and rest? We can always catch up tomorrow.” Surprise had me blinking a couple of times, taking a second too long to understand what my father meant.

“The room?” I asked, right when Ransom confirmed it, “For us?” He didn’t sound as confused as me, but maybe a bit hopeful even, and it only made the situation even harder to comprehend.

“Yeah,” my mother confirmed, a patient smile on her lips. “We figured, you’re bringing a guy home for the first time and pregnant… It’s obviously pretty serious.” I was at a loss of words, mouth hanging open as I realized my parents were completely okay with the idea of me sleeping with a man I wasn’t married to under their roof, but what happened next really threw me on a loop entirely.

I felt Ransom’s arms around my shoulder, it was what prompted me to turn to the side and look up at him, but instead of finding him at his usual height, I was shocked with a kiss being deposited on my unexpecting lips, instinctively prompting me to close my eyes.

“Thank you so much.” That was all he had to offer after releasing my lips, and it wasn’t even directed at me. “For the reception, for understanding. I’m excited to talk to you more tomorrow, but for now, I think it’s better for the baby if I take this one to bed.”

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Why on Earth would you do that?” I barely believed she managed to wait until we were both inside the bedroom, with the door locked, until she spit it out. I was almost certain she would confess the truth right there, laughing in my face at the prospect of actually being in a relationship with me.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” I feigned nonchalance, shrugging and making a point not to look directly at her as I began to get settled, opening my suitcase and pretending to look for something.

“There was so much we could do about it! Practically anything other than pretend to be together when we aren’t!” Her exasperation irritated me. What was so bad about dating me? Why didn’t she want to be associated to me, the father of her child?

But I chose to take a deep breath, just like the therapist I’d been secretly seeing had taught me. I didn’t want to screw this up, I reminded myself, and I tried to see things from her perspective, instead of immediately focusing on my own feelings of insecurity.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately recognized it, and by the way she looked immediately disarmed, it was probably the right way to start. “I just figured it would be the easier way to go about this, considering what you’ve told me about your parents. I know they weren’t going to be excited about you being a single mother, even though I’m clearly more than excited to be a co-parent regardless of our relationship, and of course, I didn’t intend to lie, but when the opportunity appeared… I just figured we’d take the easier route.”

She didn’t seem to know what to say, and I could see by her expression that it made sense to her too, now that I’d explained. She didn’t want her parents’ interference, and she wanted this trip to go as smoothly as possible. It truly was the simpler way to deal with it.

“I can go downstairs and explain the real situation, if you want me to!” I offered, knowing now she’d be completely reassured of my intentions. “Really, it’s no bother. I’m sure they can fix the guest room for me.”

I turned around to leave, but her hand seized my wrist quickly. “Let’s not bother them, right?” It was impossible to stop the smile from appearing on my face when I turned around to look at her again, finding us much closer than we’d been before. Instinctively, without even thinking, I laced our fingers together, chuckling lowly at her cuteness.

“Right.” The moment felt heavy with something unspoken. I could still feel her lips on mine from when I kissed her earlier to sell the ruse to her parents. I hadn’t planned it, but it felt right for the moment.

It felt right at that moment, but I didn’t want to screw this up. So I put on my most charming smile, the same one that always prompted her to roll her eyes but giggle at me, and question, “Can I keep kissing you, then?” I put a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, my fingers running over her jaw when I found myself unable to pull away. “It’ll make it more believable.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, looking cute as ever with all of her suspicion, but ended up giggling and nodding. It allowed me to finally relax, and so I took the opportunity to look around the room we were in, taking notice of the posters on the wall, the little mementos, and picture frames on the shelves.

“So this is your childhood bedroom? This is hot.” I knew she had rolled her eyes at me, and I was glad we were now at a stage in our relationship where I could say stuff like that without her immediately kicking me out.

“Are you always hard?” For the first time that night, I hesitated. The truth was, and what I wanted to say was that it only happened when she was around, but I didn’t. I knew my silence could make her think I was some sort of creep, but it was better than admitting the truth.

I always wanted her, in one way or another.

“Are you sleepy?” I asked, an effort to change the subject, yet again resorting to messing with my luggage in search of something I didn’t need. “Did the trip tire you out?” Silence followed my question, and I understood she was thinking about it, even if I didn’t know what exactly she needed to think.

I grew tired of pretending to be busy, so I just turned around and faced her as I wanted for an answer, taking advantage of this time to admire just how beautiful she looked, particularly now that her belly had started showing. I don’t think anyone should look that good, not after a five-hour drive, and a burning sensation settled deep in my stomach - I couldn’t tell if it was desire or resentment, fear of ever having to stand back and watch her fall in love with someone who wasn’t me.

“Not really…” Her answer snapped me out of my thoughts, reminding me of what I’d asked. “It’s still so early…” Her eyes were on the night sky behind me, visible through the window of her childhood bedroom, and I shifted from one foot to the other as I waited for her to say something more, but nothing came.

“Well, what do you want to do?” I thought she’d take her time figuring something out - she’d taken so long to decide if she was tired or not - but instead, she surprised me with an immediate response, and an immediate response that almost gave me a heart attack.

“I want to suck your cock.”

It was my turn to not know what to say.

“W-what?” But she seemed decided. Instead of explaining, or offering any sort of insistence, she just shortened the distance between us, hand immediately curling on the edge of my pants as soon as it was within reach.

“Take this off.” I only lost five seconds in hesitation, perusing her eyes, trying to see if this was some sort of joke or test. When it became clear the only way I’d ever find out would be by jumping in head first, I decided to say fuck it.

My hands made quick work of my belt before unzipping my pants, letting it fall down my ankle, and she didn’t even give me the time to step out of it and kick it to the side before she sank down to her knees, taking my boxers with her.

She wasted no time wrapping her lips around the head of my member, already hard from my ever-present infatuation with her, not giving me the opportunity to protest the uncomfortable position she had put herself in. All thoughts of complaints or negotiations flew out of the window and into the night sky the second she started sucking, slowly but surely making her way to take more and more of my cock until her lips were grazing my navel.

My knees buckled and I had to hold the back of her head just to keep myself up, have something to hold onto to stay grounded. My eyes rolled back at the choking, slurping sounds coming out of her, and I silently asked God to allow me to cum this time. I didn’t think I’d survive if she decided to change her mind.

Her mouth felt good - so good. I couldn’t help but praise her. “Oh, fuck,” the curse fell out of my mouth easily when I looked down to find her staring up at me, mischief clear in her eyes. “Y-you’re very good at this.”

She kept on bobbing her head up and down my dick, giving me the sloppiest, most perfect blowjob I’d ever gotten, before pulling away with a pop and teasing, “Oh, yeah? You like it that much?”

Then the situation became overwhelming. My cock twitched inside her mouth, but I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to cum and have to face her regret, I didn’t want to feel guilty for relenting and allowing myself to have this. So I tried to hold back, knuckles brushing her cheeks as I focused on controlling my breathing.

But of course, she’d never let me win.

“You know…” her sultry tone warned me that she wanted me to break, even before her hand curled around my member and began to pump it. “... I thought it was really hot when you were acting all jealous and possessive that night at the bar.”

I inhaled sharply, not only because of the implications of her admission but also because she’d enveloped my balls with her warm mouth as she waited for my reactions. “R-really?” As much as I hated hearing myself trip over words because of another person, I couldn’t hate her for the effect that she had on me.

“Yeah…” she moaned against my skin, sending the reverberations across my body. “I couldn’t let you know though, otherwise you wouldn’t learn… But you learned now, didn’t you?”

Her response was a moan, perhaps louder than I should have released, as I pulled on her hair in an effort to keep her away from my dick. “C’mon, Ransom!” She teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let go for me!”

When I shook my head, a pout appeared on her beautiful lips, and I just had to lean down to kiss it away. “Didn’t you like it?” She questioned when we parted, and I almost laughed, squeezing the back of her neck in a playful gesture.

“Oh, baby… Of course I did.” Biting my lip, I felt like I had to add, had to make her acknowledge it, “You’ve made me very, very happy.” When she leaned her head to the side, I already knew what she was going to ask.

“Then why don’t you want to cum?” That was a question I was dreading to answer, mainly because of course I wanted to cum, I just didn’t want to do it in her mouth. But if I had any chance whatsoever of getting what I truly desired, I’d have to voice it to her.

“Hell yeah!” I reassured her, making her laugh at my enthusiasm. “But not like this. Can… Will you let me touch you?” Time seemed to stand still as I waited for her answer, her eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t tell until she pushed me away and rose to her feet, walking towards her own luggage.

“No.” The word almost physically hurt me, and I deflated, falling down on the bed as I ran a hand over my hair, thinking about what the hell this would mean to us now. But then she was back, standing in front of me, a condom wrapper being waved right before my eyes. “I wanna ride you.”

I never wanted to fuck anyone this badly before. She got rid of her clothes just as eagerly as I took off my shirt, sending it flying somewhere across the room, and when she climbed on my lap, I had already put on the contraceptive. By the way she immediately sank down on my dick, it was clear that she was grateful for my speed.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned against her shoulder, still able to hug her to me despite the small belly separating our chests. The build-up from the last time I almost had her, not to mention from minutes ago when her mouth was still around me had the fire in my stomach burning brightly in no time, as I sat back and watched her fuck herself on me.

“Y-you take me so well.” It came out louder than I intended, and she let go of her breasts to pull me to a kiss in an effort to silence me.

“Shhh…” She whispered, fingers running over my strands as she reminded me, “you have to be quiet, honey.” The nickname took me by surprise, my hands flying up to grip her hips as I took back the control she had so easily usurped from me. “Ransom!”

The way she moaned my name… I could get off just to her voice alone, and that’s what brought me to my release. Somehow, despite barely being aware of anything other than the way my cock throbbed inside of her cunt, I was able to make her cum, and watching her throw her head back and silently scream almost paralyzed me.

“Wait,” she commanded when I tried to lay her down. “Don’t pull out.” I melted against her, falling back on the bed and adjusting us so I could cuddle her to me while abiding to her wishes.

I think she was barely awake when I spoke again, not thinking at all as the words fell from my lips. “Does this mean we’re dating now?” And suddenly, her body wasn’t comfortably relaxed against mine. No, she jolted awake, sitting up and letting my limp cock slip from her while she clutched the sheets over her.

“What? Why?” I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be defensive, and disappointed, and overall hurt from her skepticism, but I knew I couldn’t. Not right now, not when I had a goal in mind and I was so close to it.

“Why not? We’re practically a couple anyway, you even brought me to your parent’s place! Now that we’ve brought sex to the table, what’s the difference between this and an actual relationship?” A long silence followed my words, a silence that felt heavy, suffocating even. Her eyes never left mine as she pondered over what I’d said, and in the quiet of the night, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

“Ransom, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.” I felt my heart breaking in a million pieces at her words, too stupefied to argue anything else. I suddenly was extremely aware of just how naked I was, and how uncomfortably the used condom was now sticking to me.

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t really know you,” she continued, and despite how kind her eyes looked, I still felt like she didn’t understand just how badly she was hurting me. “We’ve never even been on an actual date.”

Surprisingly, that was the sentence that brought hope back to me. Even as she continued, “This was just… a one-time thing,” I didn’t feel deflated anymore, only excited. I knew she wanted me. It was just a matter of showing her that, getting her to admit it. And she had just told me how to do that.

“A one-time thing, huh?” I smirked, pulling her back into my arms, appreciating the surprise that took over her features at the response she certainly didn’t expect to get. “Like the night we made her?”

She chuckled against my chest as my hand fell over her belly. I was certain it was a girl, just as she was certain it was a boy. We had decided not to know, at least not now, and although most of the time the curiosity was eating me alive, I knew I was right.

“Yeah,” the mother of my child whispered against my skin. “Just like that night.” And with her hand covering mine, I slept soundly in a way I couldn’t remember ever doing before. I knew I would do whatever it took to keep her right here, in bed with me. Forever.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale writing #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts

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the-happiest-magster · 3 years

Text

You’re Like Me

| Todoroki x injured!Reader |

Warnings: cussing, mentions of blood, self esteem issues, (possible spoiler warnings of anime & mange towards the end)

Disclaimer: BNHA does not belong to me! It belongs to the wonderful Kohei Horikoshi, and we love him for blessing us with these wondrous characters and their lovable personalities.

The pounding migraine was the first thing you heard waking up. Allowing your eyesight to adjust to the brightly lit lights, you take a moment to access your surroundings. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary. You’re not chained to a wall, locked up in a cell, tied up in the back of the trunk, so your walls slightly go down.

Looking to your left, you see the two people that were there when the building collapsed. Your downtrodden boyfriend, and your brother, the only family member in your life that you actually give a shit about. You try your best to move without yanking out the IV that’s injected in your arm, and lightly put your hand on top of Shoto’s, immediately alerting him.

“(Y/N)...” He says with a slightly relieved look on his face and he stands up from the chair he requested, kneeling down in front your hospital bed with a small smile. He moves some of your bangs out of your face as the two of you just stare at each other lovingly.

“Shoto,” you whisper, softly. “I... I don’t remember what happened, really. I remember... a building collapsing, and I was caught in the debris. Besides that, I’m afraid I don’t remember that much,” you say as your eyes cast down to your twiddling thumbs. Your brother’s small smile falls when he hears you ask about what happened. That’s something you take notice of immediately, but decide not to point out.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now, is that you’re okay,” Shoto says with a reassuring look. Somehow, it doesn’t reassure you. It only makes you even more curious to know what happened.

The pounding headache suddenly returns, and you flinch in pain as you hold a hand to your forehead, gritting your teeth. “Shit! My head hurts so bad...” you complain to yourself. It’s then that you suddenly realize there’s what feels like stitches going down your face. Your face suddenly pales, as you go still, and so do the other visitors in the room.

“(Y/N), be careful. Your wounds are still fresh,” your brother carefully warns. All he gets in return is a slight glare as you move to get up. “W-What? (Y/N), what are you doing?! You’re not supposed to be getting up!” He frantically exclaims, but his words are completely ignored. “Go get the doctor, I’ll handle this,” says your boyfriend with a determined look on his face. He stands up and gets into his signature fighting position.

Is he... is he willing to fight you to get you to stay down?...

“I just wanna look in the mirror, Shoto.”

“I’m aware of what you want to do, but I won’t let you,” he says with a cold look. Your glare hardens as you stare at each other for what feels like a solid minute. “Do not make me do this, (Y/N). I don’t want to have subdue you, but I will if I need to.”

Doctors and nurses are nervously looking into your room as they start to evacuate the hospital. They know better than to try to get in the way of two pro heroes about to fight. Good, you think to yourself, I don’t want any civilians hurt.

Time seems to slow as the two of you remain in your fighting positions, before you decide to make the first move. Using your many years of karate experience, you move to kick him square in the chest, but he immediately sees through your attack and blocks it. You grit your teeth, your eyes narrowing, and you step back to rethink your moves.

“I’m serious, (Y/N)! I will not let you look in that mirror! I’ll ask you once more,” he warns, and it almost intimidates you, almost, “sit down.”

The sound of the doctor being ushered in by your brother is enough of a distraction for you, because the very second Shoto looks away, you’ve kicked him right in the chest and he’s flying towards the wall. His back hits it hard, and you see his eyes widen as the wind is literally knocked out of him.

Despite the desperate pleas from your brother, the doctor, and Shoto desperately trying to catch your breath, you step in front of the mirror and stop as soon as you see yourself.

Stitches that patch up the right side of your face carefully hold the skin together, dried and new blood coating them. Your right eye, which you’ve just now noticed you cannot see out of, is sewn shut. The long and deep cut extends from your forehead all the way down to your collarbone.

“Wha... my... m-my face...” you say, dejected. Weakly trying to touch your face, you immediately recoil when you feel the sharp stinging sensation. “Ow!”

You stare, heartbroken, into the mirror as you stare at the monstrosity before you. “I’m... I’m hideous... I look like a monster...” you say as you look away from your reflection.

“Not to me, you’re not,” you hear from behind you.

Turning around, you see your boyfriend leaning on the wall for support, panting as he still tries to regain his breath. “You’re not a monster. You have a deep cut on your face, that’s it. Yes, it will most likely scar, but then,” and his eyes slowly meet yours, “you’ll be like me.”

You take on a whole different perspective as Shoto’s word echo throughout your mind. That’s right, he’s had to live with his scar his entire life. Looking back into the mirror, you slowly start to understand.

“Your scars are what tells your story, (Y/N). Each and every one on your body is a page in your book,” he says as he puts a hand under your chin and makes you look at him, “I’ve had to live with my story for years ever since my own mother burned me. I forgave her for it, and that’s all that should matter.”

“You are not a monster, and you will never be a monster. Not to me,” he says with a small smile on his face. “And the day that those stitches come off, I’ll be there to support you. From now on, with each scar you endure, I’ll be there to tell you just how beautiful each and every one of them is. I’ll make sure that monstrous thought never crosses your mind again.”

Ah, that’s why you fell in love with him.

#bnha #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto fluff #bnha angst #todoroki fluff

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Scholars’ Chit Chat Submission

Cyno x Reader (actually platonic, in a way I guess, study partners, but possibly romantic in the future)

*Lore dump warning; Spoilers for all the Archon Quests and speculations of Teyvat; Really it’s all serious talk

XXX

“Hey Cyno,”

The said male turned away from the book he was reading, and focused his attention on you instead.

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you believe in eternity?”

Surprised at your sudden question, the male went quiet for a few moments.

“You want my own opinion or an objective one?”

“As much as I would like to hear both, it’s almost lunch time. So I would like to hear your opinion first.”

Sighing at your carefree reply, Cyno closed the book he was reading shut.

“Well, I simply don’t. After all, all living things will come to an end, it is the law of the universe and the reason why they say time is money.”

“Well yeah, I mean, our former archon did die five hundred years ago...”

Puzzled at your deflated mood, Cyno realised that this question didn’t simply popped out of your mind, but rather something that you had been thinking hard about for quite some time.

“Why’d you ask, by the way? You worried about the future?”

“It’s normal to be worried or even sacred okay? This is the very reason why we seek knowledge in the first place. To survive is the natural instinct of humans, and curiosity stems out of it as we can predict the future with more known about the world...”

“And yet the world is so vast, and our lives are so short, but we can pass down our knowledge through our legacy... That is the most basic right of humanity...”

“Yet don’t you think that it is strange? The fact that it has been thousands are even more years that we humans had been existed, there isn’t much we know about the pre-archon war era?”

Cyno looked down as he realised what you said was true.

“Indeed, but there isn’t much we can do about it isn’t there?”

“That’s the problem!! Nobody questions about it and that’s what makes it fishy!”

You are... Quite the special type of student at Sumeru Academia, even though you do seek knowledge about the world you all reside in. Due to the lack of Mysticism studies you didn’t take part in, you were the type to question everything, even the principles that had been decided by the Academia for centuries.

But that’s what allows your breakthroughs in your findings in the past few years here. Rather than focusing on a particular study or field, you tackle anything that comes in your way. Becoming one of the people who had read the most books in this grand library of Sumeru Academia.

Cyno liked that part of you, new perspectives shed more light to the field and it never gets boring when you suddenly throw questions at him for no absolute reason.

“The part where you go ‘seeing is believing’ is the easiest way to deceive someone?” He guessed, letting out a small chuckle.

“Exactly!! ‘Show not tell’, because people believe in what they see so when they try to deceive someone they show what they want them to see.”

“Illusions, mirages... People get tricked so easily without asking their own rationality!”

“So what you’re trying to say is-“

“That we should question this world in the first place!”

‘Here we go again...’ Cyno thought, but he didn’t actually mind your rambling.

“First! Why do we have to trust the gods in the first place? *All we can do is observe the chess game that the gods are playing, we don’t know the rules of the game, but as soon as we speculate it long enough, we’ll be able to guess what the rules are.”

“But in the end, we won’t know if we understand all of the rules cause who can predict what happens in the future anyways?”

“But with Astrology-“

“Do. not. interrupt me.”

Ah, you were getting heated up.

“With enough information, anyone can predict the future, they say. But can we actually do it? We can’t! We’re human after all.”

“Which leads to the question of, why don’t the gods spill the beans if the really care about us so much? But they didn’t.”

“I know it’s hypocritical to judge gods through mortal standards, but I have evidence.”

“If the gods truly care for each single human being of Teyvat, then shouldn’t everyone have a Vision if they’re supposed to be the grace from the gods?”

“You’re saying that those without Visions are not important in the eyes of the gods?”

“Hah, as much as I prefer that they care for both, my instincts tell me that they don’t care for either of them for some reason...”

Cyno narrowed his eyes at your slightly hesitant answer.

“Is this about you not able to obtain a Vision for yourself?”

“Cyno, how many times have I told you? If I were to receive a Vision, I would have went all the way to the archon responsible and politely give it back to them.”

“Politely?”

“Alright, maybe throwing it in their faces before telling them off that I don’t need it.”

“Violent as always, my dear.”

“Elemental energy is not magic anyways, we all know that, and the Hexenzirkel doesn’t often share their findings about Irminsul either...”

“Your point is…?”

“What’s ’free’ is the most expensive, even hilichurls are a problem for normal humans, yet Vision holders see them as eyesores more than anything… Everything comes with a price, Cyno, and I believe that you understand that well.”

“Indeed,” he agreed with a sigh. “For knowledge, we sacrifice time and our energy for it. And the culmination of many scholars forms this very library we are in.”

“The crystallisation of human knowledge, or so I recalled,” you agreed with a huff “but what if that’s the gods want us to believe in? Away from their true purposes in order to keep humanity under the reigns?”

“…”

“You angry? Sorry, I know that it’s disrespectful to judge on people’s faith like this, but I just can’t help but worry about the future when something big is about to happen…”

“N-no, I don’t mind, it’s just-“

“Explaining is concealing and concealing is the truth, go on.”

Cyno realised something, despite you knowing he has a Vision himself, you had come up with theories about the secrets about Visions, mostly concerning ones actually. But he understands it is a way of you caring for him, there are rumours about those who have Visions would one day disappear from the world.

You were scared that one day he would go somewhere that you cannot follow.

But as your partner, he has no intentions of it until you finally seek the answers you had longed for.

“The Geo Archon’s passing, Mondstadt’s Knights of Favonius incapable of fully stopping the Fatui, the electro Archon Baal stopped giving out Electro Visions since last year… Not to mention the Fatui following the Tsarista’s orders by any method of sort…” Cyno listed out. “Yes… It is all quite alarming…”

“But that promise we made the day we met, I have no intention of breaking it.”he reminded with a soft smile on his face.

“I am, your partner in crime after all.”

…

“Here you are again, saying things like that so easily…” you huffed, trying to contain your happiness from his words.

“Until the day I make the gods confess their intentions, I’m not letting you go anywhere without me!”

Seeing you back in your normal mood, the male smiled in relief, all that’s left is to lift your spirits up a bit more.

“I’ll treat you something sweet for lunch, what do you want?”

“W-Wha?! Umm…”

Seeing you flustered at his sudden question, Cyno knows that he had succeeded as you mumble under your breath about what you should pick.

‘Don’t worry too much about the future, try focus on what we have right now, alright?’

‘We are raging treason against the very laws of this world after all, so please allow me to enjoy such little time with you, my dear.’

XXX

I don’t know what I’m writing… QAQ

Exiled, if you want I can make a few more short dribbles about this (well mostly about how they meet and other stuff they think about-)

-lies on ground-

-and dies out of embarrassment-

-snowdrop, out

ANY CYNO CONTENT IS GOOD CONTENT, BUT THAT LORE DUMP WAS NICE AND REFRESHING. YES SNOWDROP, I DO WANT EM GIMME

#snowdrop anon #exile.flower #exiled community #Cyno x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral #good shit #meaaaal #submission

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joshjacksons · 3 years

Text

Joshua Jackson interview with Refinery29

Against my better judgement, and at the risk of losing any semblance of journalistic objectivity, I start my conversation with Joshua Jackson by effusively telling him what a dream come true it is to be talking to him. See, like many millennial women who grew up watching the late ‘90s and early 2000s teen drama Dawson’s Creek, Jackson’s Pacey Witter means a lot to me. Pacey is one of the rare fictional teen boys of my youth whose adolescent charisma, romantic appeal, and general boyfriend aptitude hold up all these years later (unlike The O.C’s Seth Cohen or Gossip Girl’s Chuck Bass) and that is due in large part to the wit, vulnerability, and care Jackson brought to the character.

It’s the same intention he’s afforded all of his famous roles — Peter Bishop in Fringe, Cole Lockhart in The Affair, and even as a 14-year-old in his first acting gig as sweet-faced heartthrob Charlie Conway in The Mighty Ducks. Now, Jackson, 43, has matured into a solid supporting actor (with memorable turns in Little Fires Everywhere and When They See Us) and as a leading man who can draw you into a story with just his voice (Jackson’s latest project is narrating the psychological thriller and Canadian Audible original, Oracle, one of the over 12,000 titles available today on Audible.ca’s the Plus Catalogue) or find humanity in the most sinister men (he’s currently playing a sociopath with a god complex in Dr. Death). His magnetic pull is as evident as it was when he was the guy you rooted for in a show named after another guy’s creek. Jackson has never seemed to mind the fact that so many people still bring up Pacey decades later, and that’s part of why as an adult, he’s one of the few childhood crushes I still have on a pedestal. I tell him just a tiny slice of this, and Jackson graciously sits up straighter and promises to bring his A-game to our Zoom exchange. Jackson is in what appears to be an office, flanked by mess, like a true work-from-home Dad. He and his wife, fellow actor Jodie Turner-Smith, welcomed a daughter in the early days of the pandemic in 2020, and he tells me that fatherhood and marriage are the best decisions he has ever made. Jackson and Turner-Smith are a rare Hollywood couple who choose to let us in on their love, but not obnoxiously — just through flirty Instagram comments and cheeky tweets. Their pairing is part of Jackson’s enduring appeal. It’s nice to think that Pacey Witter grew up to be a doting dad and adoring husband, even if his wife’s name is Jodie, not Joey.

Jackson is an animated conversationalist, leaning into the camera to emphasize his points — especially when the topic of diversity comes up. White celebs don’t get asked about racism in Hollywood the way their counterparts of colour do, and when they do, they’re usually hesitant at best, and unequipped at worst, to tackle these conversations. Jackson is neither. He’s open, willing, and eager to discuss systemic inequality in the industry he’s grown up in. It’s the bare minimum a straight white man in Hollywood can do, and Jackson seems to know this. When he ventures briefly into trying to explain to me, a Black woman, the perils of being Black, female, and online, he catches himself and jokes that of course, I don’t need him to tell me the racism that happens in the comment section of his wife’s Instagram. The self-deprecating delivery is one I’m familiar with from watching Jackson onscreen for most of my life, and seeing it in person (virtually) renders me almost unable to form sentences. Jackson’s charm is disarming, but his relaxed Canadian energy is so relatable, I manage to maintain my professionalism long enough to get through our conversation. Refinery29: Your voice has been in my head for a few days because I've been listening to Canadian Audible Original, Oracle. What drew you to this project and especially the medium of audio storytelling?

Joshua Jackson: The book itself is such a page turner. I also love the idea of those old radio plays. It's like a hybrid between the beauty of reading a book on the page where your imagination does all of it. We craft a little bit of the world, but because this is a noir thriller married with this metaphysical world, there's a lot of dark and creepy places that your imagination gets to fill in for yourself.

I'm noticing a trend in some of the roles you've been taking on lately, with this and Dr. Death, these stories are very dark and creepy. But so many people still think of you as Pacey Witter, or as Charlie Conway, the prototypical good guys of our youth. Are you deliberately trying to kill Pacey and Charlie?

JJ: I'm not trying to kill anybody — except on screen [laughs]. It's funny, I didn't really think of these two things as companion pieces, but I won't deny that there may be something subconscious in this anxiety, stress-filled year that we've all just had. That may be what I was trying to work out was some of that stress, because that's the beauty of my job. Instead of therapy, I just get someone to pay me to say somebody else's words. So, yeah, that could be a thing [but] the thought process that went into them both was very different. Even though this is a dark story, [lead character, police psychic] Nate Russo is still the hero. [Dr. Death’s] Christopher Duntsch very much is not at all. I can't pretend to know my own mind well enough to be able to tell you exactly how [these two roles] happened, but it happened.

That might be something that you should work through with an actual therapist. JJ: Exactly. Yeah, maybe real therapy is on the docket for me [laughs].

So I was listening to Oracle and you're doing these various creepy voices — I’m sorry the word “creepy” keeps coming up.

JJ: Are you trying to tell me something? You know what? I wanted to skip straight to the creepy old man phase of my career. So, it sounds like I'm doing a good job.

You're doing amazing, sweetie [laughs]. So, I was thinking you must be really good at bedtime stories with your daughter doing all these voices. Or is she still too young for that?

JJ: No! She's all the way into books. Story time is my favourite part of the day because it gives me the opportunity to have that time with her just one-on-one. Her favorite book right now is a book called Bedtime Bonnet. Every night I bring out three books, and she gets to pick one. The other two shift a little bit, but Bedtime Bonnet is every single night.

I love that. Since you're married to a Black woman, you know a thing or two about bonnets. JJ: Yeah, well I'm getting my bonnet education. And I'm getting my silk sheet education. I'm behind the curve, but I'm figuring it out [laughs].

You said in an interview recently that you are now at the age where the best roles for men are. And I wonder if you can expand on that and whether you think of the fact that the same cannot be said for the majority of women actors in their 40s?

JJ: What's great about the age that I'm at now as a man is that, generally speaking, the characters — even if they're not the central character of this show — are well fleshed out. They're being written from a personal perspective, usually from a writer who has enough lived experience and wants to tell the story of a whole character. Whereas when you're younger — and obviously I was very lucky with some of the characters that I was able to play – you're the son or the boyfriend, or you're a very two-dimensional character. It's gotten better, but still a lot like you're either the precocious child or you're the brooding one. I will say that while I would agree with you to a certain point for women, I think that this is probably the best era to be a not 25-year-old-woman in certainly the entirety of my career. And it is also the best time to be a Black woman inside of the industry. There's still more opportunity for a 40-year-old white man than there is for a 40-year-old white woman, but it is better now than it has ever been. The roles that women are able to inhabit and occupy and the opportunities that are out there have multiplied. If I started my career in playing two-dimensional roles to get the three-dimensional roles, most women started their career in three-dimensional roles and end up at “wife” or “mom.” And that's just not the case anymore. There's just a lot of broadly diverse stories being told that centre women. So you're right, but in the last five years, six years I would say, there has really been a pretty significant shift.

And I think that shift is happening because who's behind the camera is also changing. JJ: Right? Who holds the purse strings. That's big. Who gets to green light the show to begin with? You have to have a variety of different faces inside of that room. And then, who's behind the camera. What is the actual perspective that we're telling the story from? The male gaze thing is very real. Dr. Death had three female directors. The central character of Dr. Death is an outrageously toxic male figure. Who knows more about toxic male BS than women? Particularly women who are in a predominantly male work environment. So these directors had a very specific take and came at it with a clarity that potentially a man wouldn't see, because we have blind spots about ourselves. We're in a space where there's a recognition that we've told a very narrow band of what's available in stories. There's so many stories to be told and it's okay for us to broaden out from another white cop.

I hope that momentum continues. Okay, I have to tell you something: I’m a little obsessed with your wife, Jodie Turner-Smith. JJ: Me too. As you should be! I love how loudly and publicly you both love on each other. But I need you to set the scene for me. When you are leaving flirty Instagram comments, and she's tweeting thirsty things about you, are you in the same room? Do you know that the other one is tweeting? What's happening?

JJ: We're rarely in the same room [writing] the thirsty comments because that usually just gets said to each other. But, look, if either of us misses a comment, you better believe at night, there's a, "Hey, did you see what I wrote?" One, she's very easy to love out loud and two, she's phenomenal. And I have to say, the love and support that is coming my direction has been a revelation in my life. I've said this often, and it just is the truth: If you ever needed to test whether or not you had chosen the right partner in life, just have a baby at the beginning of a pandemic and then spend a year and a half together. And then you know. And then you absolutely know. I didn't get married until fairly late in the game. I didn't have a baby till very late in the game and they're the two best choices I've ever made in my life.

I'm just going to embarrass you now by reading one of Jodie's thirsty comments to you. She tweeted, “Objectifying my husband on the internet is my kink. I thought you guys knew this by now,” with a gif that said "No shame." JJ: [laughs] That sounds about right.

She's not the only one though. There's this whole thirst for Joshua Jackson corner of the internet. And it feels like there's been a bit of a heartthrob resurgence for you now at your big age. How do you feel about that?

JJ: I hadn't really put too much thought into it, but I am happy that my wife is thirsty for me. What about the rest of us? JJ: That's great for y'all, but it's most important that my wife is thirsty for me. Good answer. You're good at this husband thing. You recently revealed that Jodie proposed to you. Then it became this big story, and people were so surprised by it. How did you feel about the response? JJ: Thank you for giving me the opportunity to give context to this story. So I accidentally threw my wife under the bus because that story was told quickly and it didn't give the full context and holy Jesus, the internet is racist and misogynist. So yes, we were in Nicaragua on a beautiful moonlit night, it could not possibly have been more romantic. And yes, my wife did propose to me and yes, I did say yes, but what I didn't say in that interview was there was a caveat, which is that I'm still old school enough that I said, "This is a yes, but you have to give me the opportunity [to do it too]." She has a biological father and a stepdad, who's the man who raised her. [I said], ‘You have to give me the opportunity to ask both of those men for your hand in marriage.’ And then, ‘I would like the opportunity to re-propose those to you and do it the old fashioned way down on bended knee.’ So, that's actually how the story ended up.

So, there were two proposals. I do feel like that is important context. JJ: Yes, two proposals. And also for anybody who is freaked out by a woman claiming her own space, shut the fuck up. Good God, you cannot believe the things people were leaving my wife on Instagram. She did it. I said ‘yes.’ We're happy. That's it. That's all you need to know. That has been a real education for me as a white man, truly. The way people get in her comments and the ignorance and ugliness that comes her way is truly shocking. And it has been a necessary, but an unpleasant education in just the way people relate to Black bodies in general, but Black female bodies in specific. It is not okay. We have a long way to go. Jodie is such an inspiration because it seems like she handles it in stride. She handles it all with humour and with grace. JJ: She does. And look, I think it's like a golden cage, the concept of the strong Black woman. I would wish for my wife that she would not have to rise above with such amazing strength and grace, above the ugliness that people throw at her on a day to day. I am impressed with her that she does it, but I would wish that that would not be the armour that she has to put on every morning to just navigate being alive. That's a word. That's a word, Joshua Jackson.

The 13-year-old in me needs to ask this. We are in the era of reboots. If they touched Dawson's Creek — which is a masterpiece that should not be touched — but if they did, what would you want it to look like? JJ: I think it should look a lot like it looked the first time. To me, what was great about that story was it was set in a not cool place. It wasn't New York, it wasn't LA, it wasn't London. It wasn't like these were kids who were on the cutting edge of culture, but they were kids just dealing with each other and they were also very smart and capable of expressing themselves. It's something that I loved at that age performing it. And I think that is the reason it has lived on. We have these very reductive ideas of what you're capable of at 16, 17, 18. And my experience of myself at that point was not as a two-dimensional jock or nerd or pretty girl. You are living potentially an even more full life at that point because everything's just so heightened. [Dawson’s Creek] never talked down to the people that it was portraying. That's one of the things that I loved about it as a book nerd growing up. The vocabulary of Dawson's Creek was always above my level and that was refreshing. To go back to the “diversity” conversation, you can't really make a show with six white leads anymore and that’s a good thing. But I also don't know how I feel about taking a thing, rebooting it, and just throwing Black characters in there.

JJ: I hear that. And there's certain contexts in which it doesn't work unless you're making it a thing about race, right? If you watch Bridgerton, obviously you're living inside of a fantasy world, and so you're bringing Black characters into this traditionally white space and what would historically be a white space. And now you are able to have a conversation about myth-making and inclusion and who gets to say what and who gets to act how. So that's interesting, but I don’t think you’re just throwing in a Black character if you changed Joey to a Black woman [or] Pacey to a Black man. What you're doing is you're enriching the character. Let's say one of those characters is white and one of those characters is Black. Now, there's a whole rich conversation to be had between these two kids, the political times that we live in, the cultural flow that is going through all of us right now. I think that makes a better story. All these conversations around comic books in particular like, "Well, that's a white character." It's like, Man, shut up. What are you talking about? It is a comic book character! Joey and Pacey don't have to be white. Dawson and Jen don't have to be white. And this is what we were talking about a little bit earlier. We get better the broader our perspective is, both as humans, but also in the entertainment industry. So if you went back to a story like [Dawson’s Creek], what was important in that show was class not race, which I think is true for a lot of small Northeastern towns. They are very white. But if you brought race into that as well, you don't diminish the amount of the stories that you can tell. You enrich the tapestry of that show. So I think that would be a great idea.

Make Pacey Witter a Black man in 2021 is what I just heard from you. JJ: Hashtag ‘Make Pacey Witter A Black Man’. There we go!

#joshua jackson #refinery29 #interviews #jodie turner smith #dawson's creek

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malewifegradyruewen · 3 years

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An Untitled Original Work, Part 8

y'all are either gonna love me or hate me-

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trigger warnings: none that i can think of, ask to tag

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tagging: @fire-sapphics @artemiassamos @honorablescythecurie @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @tommyinnitt @enbies-and-felonies @sofia-not-sophie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!

Gina was pissed, to say the least. Stupid, oblivious Leo, and stupid, oblivious her. What a pair.

Leo had always been oblivious, so she really couldn’t blame him, but it was her own mistakes that really set her off. Sure, they were her mistakes, but that didn’t make them sting less.

Put it out of your mind. That’s over now, and now we can… try again.

After they’d left, she and Sammie had decided that they should go to Gina’s, just to hang out. The only reason Gina had agreed was because she knew her dad had taken her youngest siblings to their grandma’s, and the oldest two of her younger siblings wouldn’t bother her. They might have even gone over to a friend’s house, leaving the Weathers residence vacant.

“So, what did you think? Salt & Pepper, it was good, right?” she asked, hoping to break the tension that had formed.

“Yeah, it was pretty good! Leo was right, the mocha was pretty good.”

She knew Sammie didn’t mean any harm, but hearing Leo’s name brought a bitter taste to Gina’s mouth. She did her best to swallow it before asking, “Have you ever dyed your hair?”

So she was taking the easy way out of discussing what had happened at the café. There was nothing wrong with that, especially because Gina wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but they didn’t need to talk about it. Right now, she needed a distraction, something guaranteed.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Sammie admitted. “I never had the chance, I guess.”

“How would you feel about maybe, I dunno, doing that at my house?” Gina asked. “I’ve got a couple colours. I accidentally bought some for light hair, too, so that’s been sitting in my closet for a while now.”

Sammie hesitated. Gina could tell she wanted to, but still. It wasn’t something most people did on the fly. Changing your colour was one thing, but doing it for the first time was usually a bigger decision.

“You don’t have to,” Gina added. “Or we can do just like, a little bit. Streaks or ends or-” She gasped. “Under layer would look so good!”

With that, Sammie seemed won over. “Why not? What colours do you have?”

“For light hair, I think pink and blue. And then I have some that’s for darker hair, purple and green and red. And brown. I dunno. Probably pink or blue for you.”

“Pink, for sure.”

“Good, because we’re here,” Gina said as they pulled into her driveway. She quickly parked outside and hopped out of the car. “Do you want a soda or something? We’ve got some in the garage.”

She led Sammie into the garage and to an old, white fridge. Sammie pulled it open and Gina grabbed a Sprite. “Go on, you can take something.”

Sammie grabbed a Sprite of her own before closing the fridge. Gina then pulled open the door to the back hall, a tiny doorway that led into the kitchen. “Shoes on or off?” Sammie asked.

“Either one,” Gina said. “I keep mine in my room.” She then bolted upstairs. “My room’s up here.”

As Gina walked down the narrow hallway, she suddenly felt very… inadequate. Everything seemed too small, too dirty, too embarrassing. It never felt like this when Mally or Andre were over, because they’d been coming over since they were little. But somehow, Sammie seeing it for the first time as a high schooler, the most judgemental group of people on the planet, terrified Gina. What if this was it? Maybe Sammie would stop hanging out with her. Plus, there was the added terror of having your crush see your bedroom. That usually didn’t happen so early, did it?

Gina ran out of time to go over worst-case scenarios as she opened her bedroom door. Luckily, she’d cleaned up a bit before going to pick Sammie up, so it wasn’t too bad. Her bed was made, there were no dirty underwear on the floor, and the dresser was organised.

“Aww, your room is so cute!” Sammie said as Gina stepped out of the way to let her in. “The nail polish is so fun!” She pointed to the row that Gina had lined up in colour order. There were only maybe a dozen bottles, but they took up a decent amount of room on her dresser.

“Thanks,” Gina said as she internally sighed a sigh of relief. “Maybe we can paint our nails later, if we have time.”

“That would be fun,” Sammie agreed.

Gina could tell that there was something Sammie wasn’t saying, but she decided not to push. “Okay, here’s the hair dye,” she said as she opened her closet and grabbed a small plastic basket off the floor. “Here’s the pink.”

She tossed the box to Sammie, who caught it with ease. “Should we do this in the bathroom, and do you have some old towels?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” She reached into her closet again and grabbed two stained towels. “I know they look gross but they’re clean, I promise. I just washed them.”

“That’s okay,” Sammie said as she took one of the towels from Gina. “Here, you put the basket away. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right next door, first door on the right,” Gina said, sliding the basket back and closing her small closet. She followed Sammie into the bathroom.

“Okay, what’s first?” asked Sammie as she opened the box.

“You should wash your hair. I can do that in the sink, and then I have some clips in the sink so we only dye the bottom layer.”

“Alright, I’m doing this!” Sammie said as she placed one of the towels around her neck like a cape.

“We’re doing this! Here, I’m gonna go grab a chair so you can sit by the sink,” Gina said. She ran back downstairs to the garage, grabbed an old folding chair, and brought it back up. When she got back to the bathroom, she found that Sammie had found a handful of hair clips in a drawer and had pulled the gloves out of the box.

“Here.” She set the chair down facing the wall. “Sit.”

Sammie sat as Gina grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from the shower. She put them on the counter next to the sink and turned the water on. “Sit back so your hair’s actually in the sink.”

Gina could see Sammie hesitate. “Hey, it’s not too late to chicken out. I still haven’t been able to do Mally’s. You’re fine if you don’t wanna do it.”

“No, I wanna,” Sammie said. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be! This stuff is only semi-permanent anyways, so it won’t last for more than six weeks, if you wash it the same amount as usual.”

Gina could see Sammie take a deep breath before sitting back. “Let’s go!”

She placed Sammie’s hair in the sink and started washing it. “So, how do you like it here?”

“I like it. It’s different from where I lived before, but I like the people here. I think I found a good group, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gina said as she started adding shampoo. “Good crew. I’ve known Mally and Andre since elementary school. I think we’re all pretty likeable.”

“Yeah, and the other people in my classes are nice, too,” Sammie said. “Not that I’d hang out with most of them, but they’re nice.”

“Mhm,” Gina said absentmindedly as she rinsed the shampoo and started combing conditioner through Sammie’s hair.

“I can’t wait to just get to know more people, you know? Like I’ve been talking with some of my other classmates and I forgot how fun it is to talk to different people and get their perspectives on things.”

“Yeah,” Gina agreed. “Sit up, your hair is clean. I gotta dry it a bit.”

Sammie leaned forward in the chair as Gina pulled the towel that was sitting on her shoulders up to rub her hair dry. “I’m overall liking it here. I was nervous, but everyone has been really nice and no one’s really bullied me or anything.”

“Yeah, most of the people at our school are nice. It’s actually not too bad. I’ve heard South is way more toxic than our school.” Gina grabbed the clips and then pulled a comb out of one of the drawers. “Hold these,” she said, handing the clips to Sammie. She then ran the comb around Sammie’s head, grabbing the top section with one hand and a clip with the other. “Turn around, does that look good?”

“Yeah, that’s not too much,” Sammie said as she looked in the mirror.

“Okay, I’m gonna straighten out the part there then. Uh, you can continue what you were saying,” Gina said as Sammie turned back to face the wall.

“It’s just a decent environment, better than my old school. Even the worst people here are generally better than at my old school.”

“Yeah,” Gina said. “Okay, hair dye next. You ready?”

“Do it.”

“Okay,” Gina said as she slid on the gloves and opened the package of dye. She mixed it up and started scooping small handfuls onto Sammie’s hair. “Yeah, I’d say the worst person at our school is probably Logan, and she’s pretty bad, so the people at your school must have been terrible.”

“She’s not that bad,” Sammie said. “She’s in my English, and she seems pretty nice.”

“Trust me, she’s not.” Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair. “She’s rude and a bully.”

“Huh, I haven’t seen that,” Sammie admitted. “She seems pretty… normal, I guess.”

“Don’t hang out with her, trust me. Mally and Andre can vouch for me. Just don’t.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that.”

They sat in silence, Gina combing her fingers through Sammie’s hair to make sure it was fully covered. “Your hair looks good, now we wait,” she said, pulling the gloves off and throwing them in the garbage next to the toilet. “Uh, do you wanna do nails while we wait?”

“Sure,” Sammie said. “I can do yours, if you go grab colours.”

Gina nodded before heading back to her room. That was… strange, right? How Sammie had talked about Logan? What was up with the two of them, anyways? Gina wasn’t sure, but hopefully it was just a misunderstanding on Sammie’s part. Logan was bad news, and the two of them hanging out was worse news.

She grabbed a couple colours; sparkly black and her favourite purple. She brought them back to the bathroom and sat down on the floor in front of Sammie. She’d been doing something on her phone while Gina was in her room, and Gina sat for a moment before she put her phone away. “Sorry, I had to respond to a couple messages.”

“That’s okay. Here, here’s my colours.” She put one hand up and Sammie opened the bottle of purple. She started applying the colour with an ease Gina had never been able to master.

“We should listen to music,” Gina said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket with her free hand. She opened her Spotify and scrolled through her playlists until she found one that wouldn’t totally embarrass her.

“Oh, this is a bop,” she said as the first song came on.

“Oh, yeah!” Sammie said, grinning. She started singing along. “You would not believe your eyes…”

Gina joined in. “If ten million fireflies…”

“Lit up the world as I fell asleep,” they sang in unison. They sang the whole song, relishing each other’s company. By the time the song was over, the first coat on Gina’s nails was finished, and Sammie was on the second coat.

“That was good,” Sammie said, almost breathless.

“Yeah,” Gina laughed. “Ooh, this next one is good. I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when…”

“So I made up my mind, it must come to an end,” Sammie joined in. She finished the final coat of polish on Gina’s nails before the song ended.

“Alright, your nails are done, just let them dry and we can rinse my hair.”

“The bottom drawer on your left, there’s a hair dryer. We can dry my nails faster,” Gina said. She paused the music as Sammie plugged it in. She put her hands out in front of her as Sammie turned it on and aimed it at Gina’s nails.

They sat in relative silence, the only noise being the hair dryer. Not quite silence, but one sound enveloping the small room. After about five minutes, Sammie turned it off and said, “Try that.”

Gina tentatively touched her pinky nail. “Dry,” she said, standing up. “Now for your hair.”

She turned the sink back on as Sammie leaned back once more. Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair, turning the water in the sink bright pink. After a few minutes of rinsing, she said, “I think you’re good. Let’s blow it dry.”

Sammie handed her the dryer from where it had been sitting in her lap. Gina switched it on and started blow drying her friend’s hair. She pulled the clip out and ran her fingers through until she determined it was dry. Gina turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it. “Ready for the final reveal?”

Sammie nodded with a nervous smile. She stood up and turned around. “Oh my gosh I love it!” she cried. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you!”

Gina smiled. “It turned out nicely,” she said. “Not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous too.”

“You were?” Sammie asked. “You did it so well! I can’t stop looking at it!”

“Ah, it was nothing. But my nails! You made it look so easy! I always get it all over my fingers and then have to wipe it off.”

“I did my nails a lot in middle school.”

“Makes sense.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Gina added, “We should clean this up, and it’s getting late. I can drive you home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. A ride would be great.” Sammie grabbed the towel and the chair and asked, “Where do these go?”

“Uh, the towel can go on the hook behind the door there,” Gina pointed. “And the chair goes in the garage. Do you mind taking it down there while I finish cleaning up the garbage?”

Sammie nodded and took the chair downstairs. Gina grabbed the rest of the garbage, threw it away, and brought the nail polish and the rest of the hair dye back to her room. She set them on her dresser and ran downstairs.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said to Sammie as she entered the garage. She hopped in the driver’s seat as Sammie climbed in next to her.

“This was fun,” Sammie said Gina started backing out.

“Yeah, it was.” Gina realised this was the perfect time to admit something that had been pulling at her stomach all week. “Uh, Sammie, uh, I dunno how to say this. It’s only been, what, a week since you came, but I really-” She stopped herself and swallowed.

“I like you.”

The words hung there, suspended between them for what felt like an eternity. Gina couldn’t take her eyes off the road, wouldn't let herself. She was scared, but she couldn't take the words back.

Sammie gulped loudly enough for Gina to hear before saying, “I think I might like you.”

They didn’t live far apart, and that short ride had already brought them into Sammie’s driveway. Gina parked and neither girl said anything. She turned to face Sammie and saw Sammie staring at her.

Gina could see Sammie unbuckle her seatbelt, but nothing could have prepared her for Sammie to lean over and kiss her. It was so sudden, she hadn’t even registered what was happening until it was over. Sammie had opened the door and was climbing out of the car.

“Bye!” she called as she slammed the door shut and ran into the house, and just like that, she was gone.

Gina sat there, absolutely shocked. Of all the things she had expected to happen that day, that was not one of them. But Sammie had disappeared inside. There was nothing for Gina to do except drive home and hold the secret tight. That experience, that moment, was going to stay in this car, and Gina couldn't do anything about it, so she didn’t try to fight it. Instead, she drove home and tried not to think about it. After all, what else could she do?

#jolie's shitty writing

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psycholojosh · 3 years

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Road to RPsy: A master's student's guide for Filipino psychology graduates in making a career headway in the Philippines - Part 1

Let's paint this picture for a moment...

You get into your psychology program (or any other program) in a Filipino college or university. You study hard. And then, you achieve your well-deserved bachelor's degree. While you shake hands and celebrate for about a month (just as you should), you sooner realize and ask, "Now what?" Then, you ponder on how to get your career in clinical psychology started. Possibly, you got anxious, confused, or maybe even determined.

If this is (or was) you, don't worry! You're perfectly okay. Trust me, I've been there before... and we shouldn't feel ashamed for this.

Which is why I'd like to take this time to write about my personal and professional experiences as a college graduate of psychology in the Philippines, and how I managed to craft my own headway into getting clinical training and graduate studies for clinical psychology. I sincerely hope that this little article would help a fellow psychology graduate craft their own headway into clinical psychology (or any other field of the sort). I'd also like to share some tips from my past and present mentors, colleagues, coworkers, and professors that I find useful to take note of.

I separated this into a series of articles to keep reading concise and organized. For this part, I start off with discussing...

What psychology careers in the Philippines looks like

How goals can be set in order to get an RPsy; and

Selecting the postgraduate school or program for you

Keep reading to find out more!

Key Points (TL;DR)

There are many myths and misconceptions that narrow one's view about psychology and its careers; but there are actually a lot of opportunities.

Keep yourself open to opportunities, be it for training or career, that will help propel you to snatching an RPsy license.

Clinical experience is key. But, do not discount non-clinical experiences as well.

Practice 'SMART' (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and time-bound) goal setting for your career.

Choosing a school is dependent on your preferred training, scholastic interests, career goals, personal motivations, and (financial) resources.

Before I begin...

I'd like to first disclose what my biases and limits are, and what potentially could be a matter that you, dear reader, should consider before taking any advice from me. So, here's a little bit about myself...

Firstly, I am a young adult and pretty much novice to the field of psychology. I have gone through two years (and counting) of clinical experience as a licensed psychometrician. I do not declare myself an expert yet, nor do I pride myself as the most reliable person in the field of psychology. This article is written purely in my personal perspective and experiences. That said, I will do my best to offer you up-to-date information and objectivity that may support or criticize my views.

Secondly, I come from a very middle-class family. My parents made just about enough for us to pay the bills, to feed, clothe, and shelter us, and to give us a decent education. I firmly think this disclosure is very important since not everyone has the same privileges in terms of education, opportunity, and resources. There are some career decisions that I have made or experienced because I had the capacity to make them so despite certain critical tradeoffs (like, getting less pay). As of writing, I would say that our status is still the same, even if I make my own profit with my college degree. I will do my best to be considerate about the differing backgrounds among people, especially when it comes to privilege offered by social class.

Lastly, I'd like to emphasize that my word is not gospel and should not be taken easily by those who seek importance or utility to what I will share. The tone I will use will be very personal - as this is my personal blog. Plus, I will be largely biased towards clinical psychology, as it is the field I am in. You may find that some pieces of advice will resonate more with you than others. Conversely, you might find that some pieces of advice may be unhelpful for you. Hence, I welcome any criticism to my personal views and open myself to a healthy discussion. (Feel free to reach me through my Ask page here on my blog.) I highly encourage you, dear reader, to look for more opinions from more seasoned professionals in the field.

Now, on to the article...

The current scene of psychology careers in the Philippines

As I was graduating, it was important for me to look for information about careers in psychology in the country. After all, as you will see later, getting an idea of psychology's zeitgiest (a term used by historians to refer to the salient "mood" or "spirit" of ideas or beliefs of, say, an academic field) this country will inform you in your career goal setting and considering options that will lead you to where you want to be.

Psychology in the Philippines has a lot of stereotypes, myths, and misconceptions brought about by pop psychology spread across the masses. Here are some of the popular ones (and my personal favorites) which you may have already heard from people around you:

"Sa HR mapupunta ang isang Psych grad." ("Psych grads end up in HR [work].")

"Psych ka? Magme-med/Maglo-law ka ba?" ("You study Psych? Are you pursuing med/law?")

"Wala naman masyadong pera/future sa Psych." ("There's no money/future in Psych.")

"Psych? So yung mga baliw yung trabaho mo?" ("Psych? So you work on crazy people?")

And there's plenty more where that came from. Funnily enough, my college friends and I used to do a game where we take a shot of liquor for each myth said to us. (Drink responsibly, kids!) But, as psychology graduates, we know that these aren't completely true.

Now, let's take a look at how we can argue in psychology's defense and dignity and accept what the common person has gotten correctly.

Psychology practice in the Philippines

It's important to note that the term 'psychologist' or 'psychology practitioner' has different meanings in various contexts. Often, we think about psychologists as those who does therapy and plays around with psychological instruments. While this is somewhat true, a more academic language would refer to a 'psychologist' or 'practitioner' as someone who earned their degree in psychology - regardless of specialty - and has built their career in praxis of psychology. As I go along in this section, I'll refer to the 'psychologist' as the latter definition.

Clinical and counselling. In a 2004 article by Cristina Montiel and Lota Teh published in the International Handbook of Psychology, the authors enumerated on and expounded the most popular fields and specializations that psychology practitioners work in. Clinical or counselling practitioners lead in this list, often delving into psychotherapy, interventions, and assessment in various settings -- of which I have had experience on. I think this appears to be only partially true today, which I'll explain in a bit. You would find most practitioners doing their clinical practice in private clinics, hospitals, and schools. It's important to note, however, that most practitioners of this subfield have postgraduate degrees, and - since the year 2014, when Republic Act No. 10029 was enacted - a board license from Philippine Professional Regulation Commission (PRC). These licensed professionals have the names: 'RPsy' for psychologists.

However, bachelor's degree holders were also permitted to practice with their own little license: an 'RPm' or 'registered psychometrician' - which I have. These licensed professionals, get to practice assessment and several other supportive clinical functions - but not psychotherapy. The catch? You legally and ethically need to be supervised by a licensed psychologist. I'd like to get into the nitty-gritty differences and nuances of these two licenses, but I'll save that for another article. In the meantime, you must understand that these two have disparities in terms of their education attainment, clinical skills, and professional autonomy.

During my oath-taking ceremony as a psychometrician in 2018, Dr. Regina Hechanova-Alampay, a known Filipina in the fields of industrial-organizational and community psychology (and the mom of one of my dear friends), stated in her keynote address that the approximate ratio of each RPsy to each Filipino citizen is 1 to 100,000. A 2018 study has pointed this approximation to be accurate. Similarly, my former clinical supervisor approximated that the ratio of RPsy supervisors to RPm supervisees is 1 to 2,000. These numbers are quite a lot! Needless to say, there is a shortage of supply of clinical practitioners for the demand and a large influx of RPm's that have less clinical autonomy. And with an ever-growing relevance and awareness to the field of mental health in the country, these numbers are concerning. But -- hold on. If there are a lot of RPm's being produced yearly, where do they go?

Industrial-organizational and human resources. Montiel and Teh accounted that the second most abundant field in the country is in industrial-organizational (I/O) psychology or human resources (HR). This is where I think most psychology graduates usually end up in after college these days. Daresay, this is the fastest way to earn money as a fresh college graduate. But does that mean that the stereotype is necessarily true? It really depends on the way an employer values the employee and how much one is capable of doing a job. Sometimes, you get paid more, just right, or less.

I/O psychologists or HR practitioners often deal in corporate or organizational settings, often concerned with their person-related matters. They have skills like recruiting talent or labor, assessing worker needs, evaluating individual performances, or developing workers of a company - just to name a few. Do they need a license like an RPsy or RPm? Not necessarily.

You would often find job postings for HR positions that would often "prefer" a psychology graduate with a license, but sometimes "require" it. Therein lies some grey areas about how the professional licenses' stipulations are interpreted. But, let's not get into that just yet. But in my opinion, if people saw the utility of getting a license (which has its own financial costs of acquiring) as a way to improve compensation or marketability in the workforce, then they should get it.

Not all industrial-organizational psychologists, however, delve into the office hours and paper works. Some others go into research - particularly on topics like employee behaviors, group dynamics, and so on. It's important to think that these types of practitioners are just as versatile as other subfields in psychology.

Academia and other niches of psychology. As per Montiel and Teh, another large chunk of practitioners often end up in the academe. They become educators in various levels, researchers, or expert consultants depending on their interest, skill, and reputation. For example, developmental psychologists (or those who specialize in child psychology) get hired in preschools or alternative modes of learning. It was also mentioned briefly that social psychologists often find themselves in the social development sector, like the National Economic Development Agency (NEDA) or the Department for Social Welfare and Development (DSWD). Other common settings for psychology graduates to work in includes government facilities and the military, where their knowledge about human behavior are often found useful.

Research skills are also found useful in areas like market research and analytics. Because psychology graduates have knowledge about fundamentals of statistics and psychological measurement, a lot of these businesses employ their help in order to understand their target market's consumer behaviors and make informed decisions to increase profit. Other information about making a career in business can come be read in a lot of psychoeducational websites, like in Verywell Mind.

Overall, there is a plethora of careers a psychology graduate can delve into, especially for a fresh graduate like yourself. Over time, you would find that certain subfields would resonate more with you than others. You may often wonder which one - or a combination of more - would lead you to your career or personal ambitions. Now that you know how vast a career in psychology can be, it's a matter of choice and planning ahead, which leads me to the next section.

Goal-setting: Which road to take and what to expect

Eyeing the precious RPsy license won't be an easy task. Then again, would the hardships matter if it's worth it anyway? It's important for you, dear reader, to think about how you want to get to that goal.

Should one want to take a straightforward path, she or he would have taken their master's or doctorate studies in clinical or counselling psychology for the following three to five years (with coursework, practicum, and perhaps thesis or dissertation), then take the board exam from the PRC. I have a couple of friends who have done so, and it works for them.

However, for the likes of many of us - myself included - we may not have the same luxury of time or resources to afford us this direct route. Because of many personal needs (ahem-- financial), we may need to find a way to secure these as we go along our road to the RPsy. And how could I forget the costs of postgraduate studies alone? Which is why we'll need to earn or find income.

The best job or experience that can afford you a good head start in clinical psychology is the one closest to it. As my former supervisor, Paula, once said, "Clinical experience is key." For example, you can find psychometricians assisting with psychological assessments in various settings. Others delved into social or community work -- sometimes as a volunteer. The likelihood for one to get accepted in clinical or counselling training programs, like a postgraduate degree or certification training, is increased when one has had a hand on a similar line of work. But this is not to say that any other job is unimportant -- no. There's growing research on the various applications of mental health practice on non-clinical settings, like schools, offices, and even micro-communities. The possibilities are actually numerous. That said, I cannot guarantee how abundant these opportunities are.

There are a few things to consider when looking for a job or a source of income:

In terms of career, what are your yes's, maybe's, and no's? Make individual lists of the occupations you can say these three answers to.

How soon are you planning to achieve an RPsy license? As soon as the next four years? Or, maybe you want to take it slow and say ten?

What job and/or study opportunities are available to you at the moment? How comfortable will the setup be for you?

How much resources and time are available to you for work, study, and personal matters? Which of these do you prioritize more?

How much are you willing or do you need to be compensated to afford such a lifestyle?

As you formulate answers to these questions (especially, the last two), keep in mind that a more effective goal setting follows a 'SMART' process. That is: it is specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and time-bound. (More info about this process right here.) Patterning our goals to these dimensions helps us look at ourselves objectively and find an integrated way to live our lives productively.

In my personal experience, after graduating college, I took a two month break to enjoy the fruits of my hard-earned college degree with a "vacation" (which mostly staying home, if I'm being honest). In my mind, I knew that getting a master's degree is a must for me; a ladderized doctorate program was also amenable but I wanted to get that training abroad. But, I wanted to make myself more immersed in the field before I can enter a graduate program. I applied to different jobs - a psychological services consultant (which I primarily wanted), a personal development teacher in senior high, and a research analyst. Luckily, I got the job that I wanted and reaped clinical experience. (I'll write more about my first experiences in the clinic in another post.) A year later, I applied and got into the clinical program of the University of the Philippines. And now, I've been taking coursework on clinical psychology while working as a research associate of a particular office in the same university.

I understand, however, that not everybody could find the "perfect" balance or ideal solution to all of these concerns. In fact, I don't think anyone can -- unless you were blessed with such a life. Why? This is where I reflectively talk about my privilege (as I did at the beginning). Awareness of your own opportunities makes us think fully or subconsciously about our own status in the social system. Whether we like it or not, it affects many of the career - and more broadly, life - decisions depending on where we stand in our lives. Which is why I advocate for practicality. We may not always select the ideal -- but the principle of survival is important, especially in an underdeveloped country like the Philippines. As Montiel and Teh pointed out, poverty and economics have affected psychology practice and it opportunities in the country.

Can goals or plans change? Short answer is 'yes'. There are many reasons why our plans change. It may be because we find ourselves being presented by new or better opportunities. Or perhaps, we discover more personal insights and realizations about the career we want and how to get it. Life can be complex to influence our decisions within or without our control. Whatever the reason is, it is important for one to be able to evaluate one's strengths and weaknesses, limits and boundaries, and our emotions and motivation to keep us going.

Choosing your school: Which one should I go to?

It's very common for a psychology graduate to ask: Where should I get my clinical training? Again, this is dependent on your resources, time, and preferences. Coupled with these is the opportunities (or as Bandura would put it - chance encounters and fortuitous events).

Locally, there are about 60% of schools that offer master's degrees in clinical or counselling psychology as per Commission of Higher Education (CHED). A fewer percentage offers Ph.D. or doctorate equivalent degrees in clinical or counselling psychology, the three most famous being (as per Montiel and Teh): the Ateneo de Manila University, the University of the Philippines, and University of Santo Tomas. However, there is a growing number of urban and rural schools that offer postgraduate studies and attract local aspirants to enroll in their programs. At the top of my mind, St. Louis' University in Baguio City has been regarded as one of the best in developmental psychology (currently considered as a viable alternative to clinical psychology). Likewise, the De La Salle University in Manila, a member of the colloquially regarded "Big Four Universities," is gaining traction for their clinical program very recently.

Focusing on a school's reputation is not enough, however. What, us, clinical psychology hopefuls often look over is the training itself. Circling back to my guide questions on goal setting, preferences often come into play when deciding your training. For most, who prefer a general track in clinical psychology, many schools offer a flexible education to ensure you get the wide knowledge of the field, without undermining the core or essentials. Others may teach clinical psychology in a more specific way, favoring practical experiences like internships over theorizing in the classroom. Factors like faculty composition and expertise, paradigm, and school culture often influence how these training programs are developed. What I find helpful to attain this information is to ask these departments and institutions directly. Another approach is asking a friend taking up a program in that school. No harm in inquiry! Ask away.

Of course, like what I have also emphasized in this article, is the sensitive yet important issue of money. To be specific, your tuition. Clinical training in the Philippines ranges from ₱10,000 to ₱50,000.00 a year. The trend (as I've observed from applying in different schools) is that the more privatized and more "complex" the education, the higher the cost. Public schools often come cheaper than private schools. Consider your capacities for funding your education (including where it comes from) and weigh it with your preferences to make an optimal choice of school or program.

A popular notion among graduate students, or those heading into graduate school, is that public schools, like where I study, often take longer to finish a master's degree than others. Well, there are many factors to this. One is faculty size, for example. How many qualified teachers does the school have that supplies a smooth progression for a graduate student to complete their degrees? Another factor - which many often forget to attribute as well - is the student's motivation. It is not uncommon for a graduate student to fluctuate in wanting to accomplish their degrees. It really depends on how determined one is to see things through (which takes a lot of doing, if I do say so myself).

Overall, choosing a school is much less of an issue when it comes to time, but more so when it comes to practicality. In my opinion, any school that gives you basic competencies, regardless of reputation, is enough. In fact, most of my supervisors did not even settle for their graduate training alone. The field of clinical psychology (much like the other fields) is ever changing and adapting to the times. You often find a lot of trainings, seminars, and specialization programs that practitioners study or enroll in order to keep their practice up to date and ethical. Learning and personal growth, especially as clinicians, should not stop after we receive our degrees and licenses. Again, this calls back to the point of keeping an open eye and open mind on the opportunities that come our way.

Now that we discussed the first three tips, I plan to take a break here and let you, dear reader, reflect on things that will help you make your headway to that RPsy license. Do more reading. Ask questions. Seek answers. And explore yourself and the world to get a better sense of the pathway ahead.

I do hope that this discussion helps! See you on the next one.

#psychology graduates #psychometrician #psychologist #RPm #RPsy #filipino psychology #career tips #philippines #RoadToRPsy #filipino psychometrician #grad school #grad student #RPmNotes

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ownworldresident · 3 years

Text

We Are Our Own Heroes. Chapter 9: Faith

Book: The Royal Romance, seven years post-TRR

Premise: Six years after a tragic loss, Liam and his adopted daughter meet Cassandra, an artist with her own troubled past, and the three find in each other the friend they never knew they needed.

Disclaimer: Setting and some characters belong to Pixelberry. I am just borrowing them and will return them when they feel better.

Themes: found family, (power of) friendship, healing

Content Warning: death mention

The Master Masterlist (link)| Our Own Heroes Masterlist (link)

Cassandra

Cassandra woke well before her alarm and was out of bed before she realised the time. She didn’t need that to realise the day. The cold ache in her heart was enough.

Cordonia itself felt devoid of life in the cool autumn morning. The weather was reminiscent to the point of the worst type of nostalgia, without the misplaced excitement or fateful future plans.

Dark thoughts followed her through a zombie-like routine and out the door to the predawn world. A sweet relief of no busy minds was the clearest feeling. She was fully awake. Then the feeling faded, and she was fully aware.

No one was on the road save a few unfortunate shift workers, but she remained as diligent as if it were peak traffic. A short, humourless laugh escaped her behind the wheel. What a cruel twist of irony to repeat the event. She hadn’t delayed this time.

At the junction taking her from the city she opted a familiar route, and the false dawn breached where sky met sea as she pulled up beside the shore. The only one here. She escaped her car, planted her feet on the rocks before it, and stared at the overcast sky.

“If you’re there,” she said, “I’m sorry.”

But no matter how many times she said it, the words were not enough. Cassie’s eyes drew back to the drivers side of her Golf for a moment before she squeezed them shut, her fists with them, and looked out to the dawn following its friend.

The first regret was there was no friend now. A second later she realised there was.

----

At the first reasonable hour she drove up, and the staff directed Cassie to the breakfast room on the upper level, far from Liam’s apartments and somewhere Cassie had only been once, when Emily showed her around. She pulled the cuff of her sleeves over her palms and pressed them against her damp eyes, hoping to at least appear composed when she found him.

Clearing her throat as softly as she could, Cassie stared at the door, which stood slightly ajar. It was bright inside, the room faced west, and she hoped the sun was now high enough that he wouldn’t see exactly how hard it was for her to breathe.

“Liam?” she asked as she entered the room, spotting him after a moment as he paced before the windows. He interrupted the sunlight whenever he moved across them, but stopped in shadow.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. Cassie flinched and resisted the urge to step back.

“I came to see you.” Her voice was the soft opposite to his. She could make out his features as her eyes adjusted. Liam’s expression was tight, his body so tense he stood statuesque, and his eyes were just as hard.

“To rub in your success?” he asked, then frowned deeper. “How much did they offer you? Enough to buy your studio? Move overseas? Pay whatever debt you have?”

“What are you talking about?” Cassie’s concern became confusion in her voice. She sidelined her reason for coming. There were no events she could think of that would cause such a reaction.

“Don’t be daft.” Liam grabbed a newspaper from the table between them and thrust it toward her. He paced again as she took it up.

An intentionally dark picture took half the cover; a bare, neglected room with a cradle at the far corner, a huge, oddly shaped blotch on old carpet, and what looked like a gun beside it. And superimposed was a head shot: a smiling young woman with striking blonde hair, a thin round face, and familiar pale eyes. She didn’t need to ask, because below the image and in the description, was her name: Anna. The stain was blood.

Cassie cupped a hand over her mouth, nearly dropping the paper as bile rolled up her throat. She swallowed the acidic taste, coughed, then read the title again. ‘How She Really Died’, with the subtitle: ‘A Horror Behind Red Tape’.

The news had apparently gone to print this morning. She had been nowhere but her home or her car since before dawn.

“Why did you do it?”

Cassie looked up and flinched to find Liam much closer, just out of her space. The anger in his eyes was a thin mask for the suffering that wound deep. She knew that pain was in his very soul because it lived in her as well.

“Why would you think I would do this?” she breathed, croaked rather, and cleared her throat again. Her mind shifted. “Does Emily know?”

“I’ve called her school, they’ll contact me if she wishes to come back.”

“Good. God, I hope she’s… are you okay?” She wanted to help him, comfort him, and pressed a hand over her heart to stem her own heavy ache. Liam shook his head.

“Cassie stop. Stop pretending. You got behind my defences, I should have known better than to let you, and you told them the first chance you had.” Liam’s words held so much certainty. Cassie wondered how long he’d been firm in the belief that she was capable of such a betrayal. Her other hand tightened around the newspaper.

“You don’t actually think I would tell anyone?”

“Honestly? I have no idea what to think. I know you are the second person I have ever told and two days later—this.” He pointed to the paper in her grip.

“And so you took the first possible explanation and stopped there.” Cassie’s voice cooled as she comprehended his narrow thought process. “With no consideration for how I’ve acted in the past. I have a lot of regrets, but betraying a friend will never be one of them.”

Liam searched her eyes, then closed his and looked away. “There is no other logical option.”

“Really? You’ve never had anything happen to you that you couldn’t explain in minutes? What a glorious life that must be.” Cassie threw the newspaper down.

“You have no idea what this is like.” He shook his head dismissively. Heat rushed through Cassie’s body at the callous words. There was so much hurt in his voice, but it didn’t touch her now.

“Yes, I do.” She blinked back tears. “I lost my best friend a year ago today. I had hoped to find one here, but apparently that faith was misplaced.”

Liam’s eyes widened a fraction. His mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came. The silence settled and stretched, then Cassie released a breath, and the ache in her chest sunk deeper. Maybe this had always been inevitable. Maybe Liam wasn’t prepared or yet able to work through his past. When it was clear she would get no reply, she left.

Liam

Liam heard her footsteps retreat down the hall as he stared through the open door. A choked sound travelled back to him and tightened around his heart. He barely drew breath, willing himself to move. ‘You have no idea what this is like’ He was ashamed of the words, and they would ring in her mind. He followed her out.

“Cassie, stop,” he called, hurrying after her. She reached the landing and paused. Liam stopped a few strides away. His heart pounded as he waited for her to turn around, and hoped there was something, anything, that could undo his words.

Cassandra corrected her posture and turned stiffly to face him again.

“What?”

“I—” he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know about your friend.”

Cassie stared at him, her brow pulling tight, then said quietly, “That shouldn’t matter.”

Liam’s mind spun with thoughts he couldn’t grasp, and he struggled to find one that wouldn’t dig a deeper pit. The heat in the back of his ears didn’t help. He exhaled and tried to see the conversation from her perspective.

“No, it shouldn’t,” he conceded. “It was a stupid thing to say. I don’t…”

“Don’t what, Liam? Don’t have a conclusion already? You didn’t discover the ‘logical option’? What a fresh world this must be for you.” Cassie grit her teeth and took a deliberate step toward him, her face streaked with tears. “You are so busy trying to judge people’s intentions you never stopped to ask, and this is why you’re alone here, why you’ll always be alone. It’s not so damn frightening to consider someone other than yourself. I thought of all people you would know that.

“All I wanted was friendship,” she continued, “all I asked for was trust, but you couldn’t even give me that.” Cassie looked away from him for just a moment, but when he tried to answer she held up a hand and stepped backward. “I’m sorry that this happened to you, Liam, but I can’t do this one sided anymore, so this is goodbye. Give my love to Emily, and you make damn sure to remember how lucky you are to have her.”

There was nothing Liam could say to stop her walking away again. The back of his throat ached along with the rest of him, and he ran a hand over his mouth as he stared at the point where she had vanished around the corner. He wanted to collapse there, in the middle of the hall, or maybe scream. Of his own failure he compounded one pain with another. And now she was gone. He didn’t love Cassie like he had loved Anna, but the loss added to what he had felt every day for six years.

After some indeterminate time, he pulled himself up and exhaled. There were things he needed to do, tasks he could distract himself with. Liam swung round to return to the room he had come from and discovered he was not alone.

“That uh… looked rough,” said Drake, scratching the back of his head and glancing up the hall where Cassie had disappeared, then back to Liam.

He sighed, breath shaking, and cleared his throat. It did nothing to release the ache. Not that anything ever did. “How much did you see?”

“See? Not much. Heard?” Drake winced and folded his arms, appearing a little guilty. “Voices carry. Everything since you came into the hall.”

Liam’s ears burned again, and he glanced over his shoulder at the memory of Cassie’s anger. It wasn’t something he wanted everyone to know, but Drake wasn’t the worst person to overhear.

“Are you um… are you okay?” Drake asked.

“I just…” Liam drew in a choking breath and released an audible sigh. “Need some space.” Need a friend. “I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t need to look at this friend to know Drake’s expression was a mix of doubt and guilt and pity. It was one of the reasons they didn’t talk about Anna, and why he wasn’t the friend Liam needed right now. The one he needed was gone.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket a minute later on his way down the hall, and he pulled back all of the heaviness to the back of his mind, and focused on the external again. It was the school.

Emily needed him.

——–

Our Own Heroes list: @blackcatkita @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @texaskitten30 @missameliep @princess-geek @zoehanji @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @ladyangel70 @whenyourheartskipsabeat @bebepac @iaminlovewithtrr

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#trr fandom #trr fanfic #trr liam #trr drake #choices trr #trr au #king liam #drake walker #we are our own heroes #choices the royal romance #liam and cassie

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