#all i know for sure is that i’m going to keep my exact plans secret until the day of
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For April fools day, you should post the bible. Like the whole thing. Not under a cut either, just full pussy out parking on the dash. Like people did with the bee movie script.
could you imagine
#but i don’t think tumblr could process all of it as a single post and i don’t have the patience to do a bunch of reblogs for the entirety#i’m still open to suggestions about what to do for april fools though#all i know for sure is that i’m going to keep my exact plans secret until the day of#bible asks#not in the bible
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can you do a Tom Blyth x reader fic wherein they're doing a wired autocomplete interview?
Answering the Web’s Most Searched Questions || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader
A/n: this was so much fun to make! I apologies for this taking a bit to make hahahaha. Keep the Tom Blyth x reader requests coming 🙏
Warnings: nothing but reader n tom being such a wholesome couple
Wc:
Divider by @pommecita
“Hi I’m Tom Blyth!” You smile at the camera. “And I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom waves to the camera as you both hold in your laughter but fail miserably. “And this is the wired autocomplete interview,” Tom clicks his tongue pointing to the camera.
“Who should go first?” You look to Tom as you see a glint of mischief in his eyes, “let’s paper scissor rock it?” He asks as you turn your body slightly to him. The next sped up montage was of the two of you playing paper scissors rock and not surprise that you won earning a groan from Tom as you are passed your board.
“Okay first one, who is y/n y/l/n……. dating?” You read it as you and Tom chuckle. “Who are you dating, Y/n?” Tom jokes as he looks at you quizzically. “It’s actually a secret,” You shrug, “Do I know this person?” Tom continues, “Yes actually, you are very familiar with this person,”
“Hmm, interesting,” Your boyfriend pretended to think about it as you wink to the camera, discreetly pointing to Tom beside you. “Moving on, Does Y/n Y/l/n have…… a pet?” “Yes I do actually, his name is tchai and he’s a spoodle. I bring him to set all the time and he just comes along and chills with us.” You say as an instagram post of yours pops up on the screen.
y/n_y/l/n
Liked by tomblyth, hunterschaffer, rachelzegler, and 3,837,202 others
My boys 💗
tagged: @tomblyth
“Next one, can y/n y/l/n….. sing and act?” You laugh at this one as Tom does the same, leaning his head against yours. “Unfortunately I cannot sing and act. That’s not me in the tbosas film, that’s actually my stunt double that looks identical to me and it’s actually Tom that sings all of the songs” You give a thumbs up as Tom and the crew start laughing.
“Does y/n y/l/n have any tattoos? Yes! I actually have a matching tattoo with my boyfriend, it’s on my pinky and it’s half of a heart and he has the other half.” You put your hand up and point to it as Tom quickly puts his beside your pinky, his other half connecting with yours.
“Oh my god, Tom has the exact same one. What a coincidence!” You giggle, “Such a coincidence right?” He shakes his head. “What does….. y/n y/l/n look like? Well if you guys didn’t know, I look like this” You point to yourself as Tom places his palm under your chin with a grin.
“What was y/n y/l/n’s…… first acting role? My first acting role was in Billy the Kid that came out in 2022 and Tom here is actually plays the main character Billy.” You nudge his arm as he gives a thumbs up, “And I play Dulcinea which is Billy’s lover at one point.“ You answer before you start to peel off the last one.
“Does y/n y/l/n have… a child?!” Your jaw drops open as Tom laughs out loud. “Do I have a child? No! I’m still very young but I do plan on having children in the future. I do have a younger sister who is 4 so I think people mistake her for my daughter,” You let out a chuckle.
“Grace does very much look like you I do have to say,” Tom points out as you nod in agreement. “Yeah I have to agree with that aswell, probably why people think she is my daughter. Especially when Tom and I are taking care of her for a day, people always say what a lovely family we look,” You giggle.
~
“Finally my turn,” Tom says in excitement as he’s handed his board. “First one, How….. tall is Tom Blyth? That’s actually a good question uh-“ “For reference, I’m 5’3,” You say as Tom stands up pulling you with him. “There’s quite a height difference,” You laugh as you look up at him.
“I think I’d say around 6ft? Yeah, I’m pretty sure because Hunter is 5’10 and I’m abit taller than her. So yeah, 6ft.” “Next one, What is Tom Blyth’s…. Hidden talent?” Your eyes lock with Tom’s, “It’s not a hidden talent, but I am quite a good whistler.” “Yes! Tom is so good at it,” You nudge him, “Don’t make me do it,” He smiles, biting his lip as you give him a look.
“Do it!” “Okay, fine,” Tom then does the hunger games whistle, three fingers in the air as you watch in amazement. “I was really nervous then,” He chuckles as you laugh to yourself, agreeing.
“Does Tom Blyth…. Have a girlfriend? He says slyly as you look at the camera, “No. I do not have a girlfriend,” Hearing his words, you look at him and find him nodding his head as he says it which makes you smile at his silliness. “What a shame,” You pat his shoulder jokingly as he shakes his head, laughing.
“Lucky last, Is Tom Bltyh… a father? seriously, what is up with these questions?” He says in slight disbelief. “Are you?” You tease him, “Like Y/n, I get mistaken as her little sister’s father but no. I have no children,” “Your children would be so good looking,” You point out before you could really process it in your head.
Tom looks at you in surprise but laughs, “You think?” He maintains eye contact with you as you nod, almost in a trance as you stare into his piercing blue eyes that you could stare in all day. “Hmm, that’s good to know you think that, babe” His pet name for you slips out as your eyes slightly widen.
Tom quickly changes the topic when he realises. “Well that’s it from us today,” He says in a happy tone, “Thank you for watching this video!” “bye!” You both say in sync as you both throw the boards at the camera before it cuts off.
#tom blyth#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you
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Between Us Pt. 2
Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.
Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader
Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst.
See My Masterlist Here
Part One
Tonight was the night you were going to confess your feelings to Spencer. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, it was too painful. You were worried you would lose him when you told him, but you thought there was a good chance he felt the same.
You spent all afternoon cooking his favorite foods, planning for a night of cuddling and love making after you got the confession out of the way. When you were finished getting dressed, Spencer knocked on your door.
You invited him in, taking your seats at the table. You ate in silence, your nerves making your stomach hurt. “I have to tell you-“ “We should talk.” You spoke over each other. You smile, giggling with excitement. Spencer wanted to talk too. This is going so well.
“You go first.” You prompt him, smiling wide at him. “These past six months have been so fun. But I think our time together should come to an end.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry.
“I want to keep it professional at work. We can still be friends, we will just take the sex out of it.” He explains, studying your face. All you can do is nod as he rattles on about how the statistics of such a relationship show that the longer you did it, the harder it would be to end it.
You used to love hearing him spout a million facts about whatever topic he was talking about. But not tonight. “So what did you want to tell me?” He asks, serving himself more food. “Um, I was just going to tell you that book I ordered you came this morning. I thought you would be excited.” You rise from the table, retrieving the thick book from the counter and bringing it to Spencer.
“Thanks.” His smile breaks your heart. You can feel that your attempts to keep the tears at bay are failing. “Why don’t you take the food with you? I’m suddenly not feeling well.” You tell him, as you turn your back to get the lids for the bowls. You hand them to him, turning your back as the tears start to fall. “I’m going to lay down. Lock the door behind you.”
If he thought your sudden illness had anything to do with him, he didn’t act like it. Spencer was right about nothing changing. He was the exact same as he had always been with you, just without the sex.
Spencer was heartbroken. He didn’t want to end his sexual relationship with you. But he couldn’t put himself through the pain anymore. He spent all of his spare time with you. He couldn’t keep you off his mind. Things had changed a few months ago. He had bent the rules he set in place so he wouldn’t fall for you.
You had started spending the night and cuddling. Spencer had fallen fast and hard. But he couldn’t go through every day knowing you didn’t feel the same. So he had to end it, as painful as it was for him. It was no secret that you had been hooking up. But he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone.
Until two weeks after he called it off, he was so upset, he broke down and talked to Derek. He wanted to know all the details, but Spencer only told him the important information. “I have an easy fix for you, pretty boy.” Morgan smirked at him. Spencer leaned in, excited there was a solution.
“You know what they say, if you want to get over someone, get under someone else. You just have to sleep with someone and she will be the last thing you’re thinking of. Works for me every time.” Spencer cleared his throat. “Easy for you to say. I’m lucky she agreed to sleep with me. I’ll never find someone else so quickly, and I’m not sure I would want to.”
“I know someone who has been into you since she started here.” Derek boasts, nodding his head to the blonde at the coffee pot talking to Rossi. “Ashley?” Spencer squeaked, while Derek laughed.
Ashley Seaver was one coworker you could not get used to. She was impulsive, always throwing herself into trouble. You couldn’t stand her. Not only for how she acted on the field, but for how she looked at Spencer. She wanted him, and she didn’t care who knew it. She was all over him from the second she started working at the BAU.
She even knew that you and Spencer were hooking up, but she didn’t care. She used every opportunity to touch him or say something flirty, making eye contact with you the whole time she did it. Luckily, Spencer was oblivious. When you mentioned how she hung all over him, he said he didn’t even notice. He was too busy thinking about the case or the thing you did with your tongue the night before.
So you stopped being jealous. It wasn’t like you had any right to be. You and Spencer were just hooking up. If he wasn’t interested in her, then you would just let it go. The last time she tried anything had been a month ago. You were sick and she invited Spencer to go eat after work.
Spencer being the nice guy he is, accepted her offer. While they were out, he talked about you the whole time. She had told him to stop talking about you, that she was right there and she wanted whatever he was willing to give. He politely turned her down, but she was furious. She kept her distance from both of you since then.
That’s why you were confused when you heard her squealing and giggling, saying Spencer’s name as loudly as she could. You looked up from your mountainous stack of paperwork that you came in early to work on to see Spencer hugging her.
There was a vase of roses on her desk. “I can’t believe you got these for me! What a surprise! I knew you would come around!” She almost yelled, looking directly at you. Spencer took her hand in his, “I wanted to get you something before our date tonight, but I wasn’t sure I would have time to get them after work.” He explained shyly looking at her.
That little shit! Was he actually blushing? Was he seriously going on a date with Ashley tonight? And what is with the roses? He never once got you flowers. Did he call things off with you to date her? Seeing them together made you feel sick. Actually, the temperature felt like it rose a hundred degrees. You needed to get up now. You ran to the bathroom making it just in time to throw up.
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @13430ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!reader#between us
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have more sleep deprived rambles about a vn (MDNI 18+)
so, with exploring dark romance vns i have been going through itch.io and discovered The Kid at The Back! i have so far enjoyed the plot and am excited to see where things will go, i adore the art style and of course… i am an emo lover. so! the author of the vn does not plan on spoiling anything as to keep us guessing on the lore but i thought i can at least compile everything we know so far in one place where i can update!
the author has also said they are not confirming theories or anything, so this is all food for thought rather than searching for confirmation. i just enjoy compiling info and sharing it so others who may enjoy lore can have something to read off from :)
tw: mentions of abuse, bullying, and violence
day 1 info
1. sol does not like hands on his neck. most likely something to do with his past or something, possibly an altercation with family since it seems he does not like “talking about his past” or his family
2. some sort of event in the past where sol met the mc. i think it was from childhood but i could not say the exact timing. but whatever it was, it made sol so dedicated to the mc that he literally thinks they are soulmates. some guesses: maybe we saved him from a bully in the past? maybe we stood up for him when no one else did? we shall find out!
3. sol always wears a necklace with a key on it, i’ve been wracking my brain to figure out where the key could go to. some guesses: our apartment, a box of something (maybe we gave him something he keeps locked up), a secret room where he keeps our things or something dedicated to us (since we know he does take stuff from us as momentos… like ok sol)
4. sol seems to come from a very well-off family to the point of bullying. he also probably get bullied for his style, but i think it also has to maybe do with family reputation. maybe the family is well-known in some area of the upper class/1%, or maybe the family is infamous for not great things/investments. we’ll learn as we go, but i can at least say with confidence that man has money
5. he does not like bruising on his face, becomes extremely insecure about it and even possibly humiliated. sad to say, i believe he may have experienced possible intense abuse from his family along with bullying. he has low self confidence or low sense of self, i think he thrives on being reassured. he is easily jealous and possessive (which is also a yandere trend) but i think it has to do with years of being overlooked, hurt, and ridiculed
conclusion and other sillies:
i think as days get released, i’ll add onto this or confirm anything we learn. i do believe crowe is the second love interest, which makes the most sense. i think crowe may have some unfinished conflict with sol or his family, but that’s more just a possibility i think about. crowe seems normal but idk… i also have some suspicions but what do i know!
i look forward to day 2/3 release, but remember to be patient! the author i’m sure is working hard, so let’s all patiently wait together and enjoy any side content we receive as we wait.
also fun side note, sol and i have some of the same piercings which was so funny to me (one of his ears has a double helix and three ear lobe piercings… like me…. goofy)
#sol:#me: so u got inspired by jungkook’s double helix too?#anyways fun game!!! ready for more lore drops later on#katb_vn#tkatb_vn#solivan brugmansia#sol brugmansia#the kid at the back#the kid at the back vn
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hihi so I was wondering if you can make an dating singer!tomblyth and it can be fluff or smut it which one you prefer to write!
yes love this idea! i definitely want to write a series about this one but here’s just a one shot of this idea!
summary: tom blyth attends one of y/n’s concerts and she sings an unreleased song she wrote for him. (based on the unreleased gracie abrams song “in between”)
i was backstage right before the concert. usually before shows i’m not that nervous because i just love to preform but tonight was a little different. tom had been to tons of my shows of course but tonight i had a little surprise for him. i wrote the song “in between” for him and he has no clue about it so i decided to sing it tonight!
“hey love, you’re gonna do great out there!” tom said to me.
“thanks baby, love you!” i gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek then winked at him and walked onto the stage.
the intro to one of my songs started playing and as i walked onto the stage the crowd started going wild. i made it through the whole setlist dancing and having a blast. i saw tom singing along the whole time.
“do you all have time for one more song?” i asked knowing the fans would love this. “so i’ve been working on this song for a very special person in my life, and he’s actually here tonight. tom this is for you.”
i started singing:
“there’s holy ground beneath them and sparks fly when they kiss. he hates it when she’s crying, he hates when she’s away. even at their worst they know they’ll still be okay.”
i couldn’t help but giggle as tom watched in awe as i preformed this song i wrote about him. this was the exact reaction i was hoping for, he was actually so adorable.
“he laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face. she love how he talks late at night, when there’s no one else to say how she’s beautiful and funny and smart. Like nothing he’s ever seen. He’s good to her and she wants it more than everything in between.”
i obviously had to throw in some taylor swift references because tom truly was my london boy, lover, endgame, king of my heart, and peace. i couldn’t wait to hear his thoughts after the show.
i returned backstage and tom immediately ran to me, picked me up, and twirled me around.
“you wrote a song for me??!!!” he exclaimed.
“of course i did, you’re literally the love of my life, i wouldn’t be here without you tom.”
“i wouldn’t be here without you. how did you even manage to keep that a secret and when is it being released??” tom said. i loved it when he fan girled over me hehe.
“i’ll sing it for you whenever you want, i’m not sure when i’ll release it, who knows if the fans even liked it.” i shrugged. “i’m just glad you like it so much. and wasn’t it so accurate though?”
“for sure, the line ‘she loves how he talks’ you literally are always telling me how much you love my accent and how you could listen to it all day.” he said laughing.
“yeah and the line ‘he hates when she’s away’ you act like it’s the end of the world when you have to go away for filming and i’m on tour.” i said grinning.
“well you hate it too, and yeah it’s true i hate it so much when we’re apart. next time you’re coming with me to whatever filming location, i’ll make sure it’s in my contract.” he insisted.
“sounds like a deal to me.” i smiled.
“i love you so much y/n.” tom pulled me into another hug and kissed the top of my head.
“i love you so much tom.”
author’s note: this one is pretty short because i plan on writing a singer x tom blyth series so i didn’t want to use up all my ideas on this one shot. so don’t worry, more tom blyth x singer content is coming soon!! also send more requests for what you want to read ;)
#tom blyth#tom blyth angst#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth fic#tom blyth fluff#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth x you#billy the kid#gracie abrams#in between#tbosas#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader
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'Tis the Season, Sir
A/N: Written for Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge (@sstan-hoe). Reader is implied fem (Ms. Y/N). No physical descriptors used.
Prompts - Steve Rogers - CEO AU
Summary: CEO Steve Rogers is a real grinch and gets upset when he keeps noticing your seasonal attire that is technically within dress code regulations.
"Y/N. My office," Steve barked at you as he walked by your desk. You follow without hesitation, bringing your notepad and pen for the notes you undoubtedly were about to take.
You sit in the chair across from his desk but he stands at the windows of his office.
"Ms. Y/L/N," he starts, "are you aware of the dress code policy for this office?"
"Yes, Mr. Rogers. I went through them rather recently."
"Is that so," he asked, turning towards you like a predator. "Then why are you dressed like you are?"
You shake your head, "’Tis the season, sir. I made sure to go through the updated handbook just to make sure I was still compliant with company policy."
Steve pulls out a physical copy of the handbook. You start at the sound of him slamming it on his desk, "then show me where it says you can wear that stupid holiday jewelry."
While you didn’t have the exact policy numbers memorized, you knew how to find them. You got to the pages on corporate dress code and read aloud, “employee personal effects should be minimal and not detract from the professional appearance expected of them. I’ve been wearing this jewelry for weeks and you only just now noticed. No one else has said anything or acted differently around me so clearly they’re minimal enough.”
“Weeks? I know you haven’t been wearing that jewelry for weeks,” Steve complained. “You are lying right to my face.”
“How do you know I haven’t been wearing this set,” you asked, eyebrow raised.
Steve sees the trap you’ve set and attempts to sidestep, “I would’ve noticed that obnoxious holiday stuff before.”
“And yet you didn’t,” you assert. “Not just you, but others in the office. Even clients haven’t commented because I made sure to only wear things that would gently accent, not stand out. Face it, Mr. Rogers, if you had a case against me, I’d be meeting with HR. Not you!”
Steve sits down grumbling something about hating the holidays. You don’t pounce on his words, you know how these games work. The less you say, the less he has to use against you. He dismisses you with a growl and you quickly return to your desk.
As the holiday gets closer you’re more aware than ever of Steve’s eyes on you. Just about all the other women in the office (and some of the men) were quite jealous of the attention you were getting. You were tempted to tell them the secret but didn’t want to risk getting someone fired based on your bad advice. For all you knew, someone would get in trouble for actually breaking the dress code and blame you for it. That could be grounds for you to be fired as well and you know you have to be extra careful.
You find yourself working later than usual most days. With an upcoming holiday a lot of people are planning to be out of the office so a lot of projects need to be worked on if not outright finished. You straddle the fine line between helping your coworkers and not doing their work for them, mostly handling data entry stuff that’s time intensive drudgery. You get to pick up extra hours and catch up on your podcasts while they get time to prepare for family get-togethers and buying gifts.
It’s definitely after hours on the day before Christmas Eve. You stretch away from your computer and are surprised when your hands hit someone. It’s Steve, and he does not look happy. You take off your headphones and hear him snarl, “my office. Now.” You suppress the urge to roll your eyes and grab a pen and paper before following him.
When you sit down in his office sits across from you and asks, “why are you doing everyone else’s work?”
“I’m only doing the data entry type of work that takes time, not brains,” you reply as calmly as you can. “I’ve made sure that everyone I help knows that I’m just doing the little things. They still have to do all of their primary work functions, the things that require thought, tact, personal touches and know-how. Everything was manager approved.”
“And why are you doing this?” With how tight his jaw is, you can tell he’s eager to unleash his anger. You have to handle this delicately.
“Primarily to prevent mistakes and lapses in timelines due to worker stress and fatigue.”
He blinks a few times, clearly not expecting your answer. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times as he tries to think of a response. Finally he’s able to ask, “are they so overworked?”
“No, sir,” you’re quick to reply. “It’s mainly a holiday thing. The work-life balance is a lot harder for many people to maintain this time of year. Whether it’s buying gifts, cooking, baking, visiting or even having to attend all the kids' plays and events, the holidays just make it difficult to find the balance. I help people in my department because I understand that. The overtime doesn’t hurt either. I’ve got loans to pay.”
His brows furrow, his confusion growing, “I would’ve thought you had plenty of holiday things to attend to yourself.”
“I actually don’t do much for the holidays.”
“But…your jewelry?”
“I think the jewelry looks pretty and I don’t get to wear it much because it’s Christmas themed. Doesn’t work well at other times of the year.”
“Ms. Y/L/N you flummox me.”
“Why? Just because I don’t celebrate doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the aesthetics. My hours have me walking to the bus when it’s dark out. All those pretty lights people hang? That the city hangs? They’re lovely! They make the commute, the longer nights, so much more bearable. Yeah, it’s cold and snowy, but the decorations, the looks of wonder on kids’ faces? Warm me right up. It’s a nice light in the growing darkness of the season.”
Steve doesn’t respond, seemingly lost in thought.
“If there’s nothing else, Mr. Rogers,” you say, standing up, “I’m going to go ahead and get back to work.”
He dismisses you with a wave.
It's the day after Christmas and the office open, though you're probably the only person actually in the building. You genuinely enjoy the quiet of everyone being out the week between Christmas and New Year's. You don't hate the people at your office, but there's just something special about working without having to worry about someone wanting to talk to you.
Well, normally you wouldn't have to worry about it. You're startled out of your thoughts by Steve knocking on the wall of your cubicle.
"I want to apologize," he states. "You were right about your jewelry, earlier. It is well within the dress code guidelines. I hate the holidays and I took it out on you and I'm sorry for that."
"Apology accepted, sir," you smile back at him.
"Just that easy?"
"Well, 'tis the season, sir."
Steve smiles at that, "I was definitely expecting more of a smug response or that I would have to earn the acceptance of my apology. I even got you a gift to apologize."
"I'll accept the gift as well," you smile up at him.
He chuckles and hands you a small jewelry box. You open it and are delighted to see a pair beautiful, colorful pair of seasonal earrings. You quickly put them on and thank him for the gift.
He smirks and responds, "'tis the season."
#vee's holly jolly challenge#ceo!steve rogers x reader#ceo!steve rogers fluff#steve rogers fluff#ceo!steve rogers
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I'll Travel Far Beyond the Path of Reason (Take me back to Eden)- Cordelia x reader (Part 1)
You and Cordelia get into a fight and you are attacked by witch hunters. If you couldnt tell by the summary, heavy HEAVY angst.
I've been working on this for over a year and if I don't post it now I'll continue to tweak it until the end of time. Enjoy babes and I'll see you for part 2!
Words: 8.6k
Warnings: Violence, Blood, ANGST, drugging, drug & alcohol use, PTSD
How could you have been so stupid?
It had started off innocently. You had always played the good cop to your supreme’s bad cop. She dispensed the punishment, stern but always loving, and you spared the girls from it as much as possible. It had become sort of a banter between the two of you, the way you would intercept the issues before they ever reached her office door, correcting the situation so well she only ever heard about it months after the fact in hushed whispers. She would always scold you, but there was a hint of a smile only you could see, and she never was mad for long. So, when the girls called you the other night and admitted they messed up, you climbed out of bed and drove across town without a second thought, and without waking your sleeping girlfriend.
You thought it was simple, they snuck out after curfew, went to a party, and drank a bit too much. But when the cops knocked on the coven’s door two days later, your girlfriend was blindsided, and you had learned their little screw up wasn’t so little.
Grand theft auto, to be exact. Seems they had left out the part where they took some asshats car for a joyride and crashed it, but that was after he had been a little too handsy with the youngest and tried to spike her drink. You called it penance, but your girlfriend called it-
“A felony, Y/N.” She spat, “They committed a felony, and you kept it from me.”
“I didn’t know all of the information.” You argued, “All I knew was they snuck out and needed a ride.”
“You still should have told me. I’m responsible for those girls.” Cordelia fumed, “I know I let you get away with it before, but this is too far. What am I supposed to tell their parents? That their own teacher helped them leave the scene of a crime?”
“Once again, Dee,” You lamented, “I didn’t know. They kept that tidbit of information private.”
It was supposed to be date night, the one day a month you could manage to drag your workaholic girlfriend from her office and away from her responsibilities. But she was seething over her glass of red and you couldn’t seem to get a word in edgewise, so you quickly came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant evening, even if you were at one of the nicest places in town.
“You know that doesn’t matter.” She spit, “They could go to jail.”
“What would you have done if you’d known?” You asked, already knowing the answer, “If I had woken you up, what would you have done? Woken Mallory up so she could reverse time and make sure the whole thing didn’t happen? Magically move the dented pieces back into place? You couldn’t have done anything.”
“Don’t be condescending.” Cordelia growled, “You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from me, that’s not how this works. Especially when it comes to the girls. You should have said something.”
“So you could yell at them for sneaking out? So, when they did it again, they’d be too scared to call?” You asked, Cordelia shaking her head.
“They still lied to you,” She bit, “So your plan seems to have some flaws.”
“They were scared.” You argued, “They knew if they told me everything, I would’ve come to you.”
“You should have come to me regardless.” Cordelia spat, “I’m the headmistress of this academy and your supreme.”
“And I trust you with my life,” You said, “But right now you aren’t really showing your level head.”
And oh boy, if her eyes could shoot daggers, you’d be bleeding out on the floor. She scoffed, her jaw clenching and grinding as she mulled over her response. Normally, she would roll her eyes and grin at the joke, but she simply shook her head and grabbed her things, leaving the restaurant without another word.
“Delia…” You called after her, but she didn’t turn around, and your waitress was on you before you could even think to go after her, “I guess I’ll take the check.”
When you reached the parking lot, your car was gone, and you lolled your head back and let out a frustrated grunt as it started to drizzle. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you, walking across town in the rain only to come back with your tail between your legs. She was putting you through the ringer for this one, and while you couldn’t really blame her, she also wasn’t being completely fair. Not telling her the girls had snuck out was on you, one hundred percent. But you weren’t a mind reader, and you had absolutely no way of knowing the girls weren’t being truthful, you were just as surprised as she was. But still, you knew she needed someone to be angry with, now that the damage was done.
Still, an hour long walk in the now pouring rain seemed a bit excessive. The woman was blessed with the ability to transmutate but still left you stranded just to prove a point. You were lucky you had been in the city long enough to know your way around, especially at night. The choice to avoid the French Quarter added about twenty minutes to your trek, but it was the smarter option, given the string of muggings that seemed to plague the location, although the extra time didn’t help you escape your thoughts.
You and Cordelia had never fought like this. Sure, you bickered, but all it took was one well timed joke and the feeling was fleeting, replaced with poorly hidden smiles and ticklish sides. The arguments were meaningless, spurred on by minor miscommunications or the occasional poorly timed joke, never like this, if anything they were humorous. You knew Cordelia was protective, that she’d do anything for her girls, and you had grown to love her mama-bear tendencies, but she had never turned them on you.
You turned down an empty alley, a shortcut that would spit you out a few houses down from your destination, your desperation to get home overpowering your hatred of tiny, cramped, dimly lit spaces. You walked quickly, looking over your shoulder at every step, terrified that you would turn around and someone would be chasing you with an axe like the movies.
You glanced forward, a few more steps and you would be free, but as soon as you approached the exit, two men stepped into your view, and you stopped on a dime, “Going somewhere, witch?”
Witch Hunters.
Since the coven had gone public, more men were willing to join their ranks, and you turned on your heel and booked it the second they stepped in your direction. You never were a star athlete, though, and soon enough you were being pulled to the ground and restrained. You fought against it, earning a set of knuckles to the left side of your face, and you felt his ring scratch down your cheek as you tasted blood. You felt their hands everywhere, holding you down as three more blows hit, your stomach, the side of your ribs, and another to the face just for good measure. You tried to focus, but complete panic overwhelmed all your senses. You knew how to handle this. Cordelia had worked with you and trained you until you could do it in your sleep, but with the adrenaline pumping and the blood rushing through your ears you couldn’t seem to remember it at all, all you knew was that you had to get home to Cordelia to warn her, you couldn’t keep something from her again.
Somewhere in the haze you caught a flash of silver, a searing pain, and then the hands were gone. You didn’t remember pulling yourself up, but as you were dragging yourself back towards the house, you did remember having to dislodge your feet from under the dead bodies. It hurt to breathe, to stand, to move, but you mustered up what energy you could as you pulled yourself up the steps of the academy, wiping at your face as you spotted your car in the driveway, only for your hand to be covered in blood.
Your vision grew hazy as you reached for the doorknob, and you clumsily felt around till you were met with the cold, metal object, unable to trust your own eyes. You pressed your weight into the door, practically falling through and barely catching yourself on the entryway table. You spotted your lover in the kitchen, her back to you as you attempted to right yourself, “Dee…”
“I’m not talking to you.” She said shortly, shaking her head.
You lost your balance once more, falling into the wall this time. “No, Delia…” You tried again, your voice sounding strangled.
At the drop in your tone Cordelia was alarmed, shoulders squaring as she whipped her head around to meet your eyes. You didn’t think it was all that bad until you saw her expression, the way her eyes bugged out in horror, mouth gapping as she traced your form up and down, before her eyes landed on your stomach. You followed her gaze only to see a knife, and suddenly you were falling down, down, down.
You were pulsing in and out of consciousness, the world turning into a stop motion film. You saw her moving towards you, then she was on top of you, mouth forming around words and phrases you couldn’t seem to comprehend.
“What… Can you… Hold on… Stay with…”
You felt hands, first two on your face, tracing your cheekbone and calming you down. Then, you felt them everywhere, lifting you, and you fought against them with whatever strength you had left, deep laughs invading your mind as you felt those hands grip tighter and tighter. But then the rest of the hands were gone and there were those hands again, on your face and so soft, shushing you and lulling you into some limbo you didn’t know if you ever wanted to reach, running through your hair and grabbing your hand as you finally let the dark win.
“Just let it happen.”
Murmurs of familiar voices drew you into some semblance of consciousness. You couldn’t identify who was speaking, and for whatever reason, your eyelids felt like lead, unable to let even a sliver of light in.
But you could hear, the rustle of hair brushing against fabric, the tap of shoes.
“Not now.”
“You need to eat; it’s been two days.”
Then, a tone you recognized, still pleasant, but just enough bite to get the point across.
“I said not now.”
You tried to wiggle your fingers, flex your hands, show any sign of life, but there was some sort of disconnect between your body and mind, and it drove you nuts. Were you dead?
At the sound of the voice again, you wanted to reach out, to provide some comfort, but you couldn’t, and it made you want to scream. You were always claustrophobic, but this was a million times worse. You could feel your panic rising, the heat in your body constricting your lungs until you felt like you were suffocating. You heard a sound you couldn’t recognize, then the shuffling of feet.
“What’s going on?”
Then that voice, high pitched and panicked, “I don’t know.”
“Is she in pain? Do I need to get Mallory?”
That name, you knew that name, but why?
There was a pinch, then every nerve in your body was searing before going numb, the voices fading as you were desperately trying to claw your way back, losing your grip and falling into nothing once again.
When your eyes opened, the light blinded you and made your head throb, forcing you to shut them again. Slowly, you cracked one open at a time, trying to make sense of your surroundings. There were a pair of heels discarded by the bed, and the steady pounding of footsteps, one right after the other, a pause, and one right after the other again. You tried to lift your gaze up, only to be met with the glaring reflection of the sun rays in the mirror, and you shut your eyes and burrowed deeper under the covers. The footsteps stopped at the sound, stuttering against the hardwood, only to pick back up a moment later.
You cracked open one eye and looked down at the end of the bed, your girlfriend traversing the length of her bedroom, arms crossed, and a red thumbnail pinched between her teeth as she stared at the floor. You watched her for a moment, hair mused and lipstick smudged, wearing your favorite dress, and it almost brought a smile to your face, but then she turned around and you saw the dark maroon stain and everything came rushing back as your eyes snapped open.
She hadn’t changed, hadn’t washed her hands. The shoes discarded by your bed were the ones she was wearing, probably chucked to the side once the pain of the pacing had become too much to bear. You bit back tears, swallowed down the terror, and tried to speak, but your throat was dry and hoarse from the screaming. Your mouth moved over empty words, trying again and again until something finally fell out.
“You need to eat.”
Her gaze met yours, hands falling to her sides, but just as quickly as the relief had come, it was replaced by something haunted. She stepped towards you, arms reaching for you, then falling, then reaching again, until she settled on grabbing the sheets next to you, fingers fidgeting in the cotton. She met your eyes, looked away, looked back again, before choosing to stare at the headboard, “How are you feeling?”
You went with a joke, hoping to ease her discomfort, “Like I got stabbed.”
There was no laugh, no smile, not even a twitch at the corners of her mouth. You reached for her hand, rubbing your thumb along the back, but she pulled it away, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as she stepped back. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Delia…” You called after her, images racing through your mind of the last time she left you alone, causing your heart to bang in your chest, but she was already out the door, her feet tapping on the stairs, growing quieter with each passing second.
When she finally returned, it felt like an eternity had passed. She handed you the glass without even sparing you a glance, searching the room for a moment before she returned to your side with full hands. The glass between your lips was quickly replaced by a thermometer, a blood pressure cuff slipped up your arm and squeezing as you whined in protest.
“Shh,” She chided you, her voice absent of any of the warmth that used to feel like coming home, “Your blood pressure is still elevated.”
“You need to eat.” You said again, only for her to ignore you, so you settled for questions, anything to make her actually talk to you. “How long was I out for?”
She glanced up at you, looking perplexed for a moment before shaking her head and refocusing on the task at hand. “Four days.” She finally said, her hands reaching for the nightstand and coming back with a vial.
“Is everyone ok?” You asked, watching her draw the liquid from the vial up into a syringe.
“The girls are fine.” She answered, too focused on checking for air bubbles to even spare you a glance. Something was wrong, you felt it in your bones, but she ducked and weaved through every emotion.
“Are you ok?” You asked, reaching for her but coming up short as she stepped back.
She looked at you then, eyes hazy as she shook her head, “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.” You challenged, only for her to glare at you.
“You need rest.” She said, her eyes leaving yours once more, lifting your blanket and repositioning your leg, “You’re still healing.”
You felt tears burning behind your eyes, the fear still lingering that if you dared to sleep, you wouldn’t wake up. “I want to talk to you.” You said, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked as you grabbed her arm, halting her movements.
Her face fractured then, but only slightly, and you swore you heard her sniffle back tears. You thought you had her, but then she was reaching and prying your fingers off of her, the alcohol wipe drying your skin and burning your nostrils. “You can,” She murmured, shaking her head once more, “After you rest.”
You shook your head as she uncapped the needle, trying to wriggle out of her grasp, but within moments you were frozen in place, the needle pinching your skin and warmth quickly spreading through your veins, making your body go limp and your eyes droop. “But…” You began, fighting to keep your eyes open, your mouth moving. She shushed you, bringing her hands to your face and pressing her lips to your forehead, but you knew it was only to placate you, to give you a sliver of hope that everything was alright.
Over the next few days, you barely saw her, despite being stationed in her bedroom. The girls came and kept you company, but every time you would ask about Cordelia, they would dance around the subject, sharing glances you couldn’t quite understand and making some excuse about paperwork before changing the subject entirely. They did their best to keep your spirits up, but they knew they weren’t who you wanted, and you tried to ignore the pitiful looks they threw in your direction when they thought you couldn’t see them.
The only time you saw her was when she was administering your medication, coming up with every excuse to not be able to stay during the day. She promised you more time in the evening, only to knock you out the moment you dared to ask about anything outside of the weather.
She wasn’t sleeping, you knew this because you lived in her bed and she wasn’t in it. That, and you had spent enough time studying her face over the past week that you noticed the bags under her eyes becoming darker and darker. She had finally changed her clothes, but you didn’t know how, given that she avoided you for a majority of the day. Maybe she was grabbing them after she forced you into unconsciousness, or maybe she stockpiled them in her office. You grew to hate the sunset, the orange haze making your skin crawl at the thought of what was to come. You felt violated from being forced into submission, and as the days dragged on, you couldn’t help but feel the fear that lodged itself in your throat every time she would appear.
A week in, you broke, curled into a ball with tears streaming down your face as you begged, but she just reached for the vial once again, murmuring something about how your body needed rest, always more rest. She reached to stabilize you and you retreated, pulling your legs close to your body and pushing further and further up the bed every time she would bridge the gap, almost knocking yourself to the floor in the process.
Cordelia didn’t understand, brow pinched together as you begged, “Please, just talk to me.” She shook her head imperceptibly, eyes blank as she reached for you again, and you shrieked, launching yourself off the bed and onto the floor, “No!”
Cordelia stared at you in shock, her eyes scanning your face for some semblance of reason, but you weren’t even looking at her, eyes trained on the syringe as your face contorted in fear. She followed your line of sight, then looked back at you, her stoic expression splintering as the realization dawned on her. The syringe clattered to the floor, and you finally tore your eyes away, staring back at her with that same terrified expression as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.” She choked, shaking her head as she forced herself to look away, her voice dropping to a whisper, “I can’t do this.”
You didn’t say anything as she walked out, couldn’t bring yourself to stop her, and as you sat on the floor and waited for someone to find you, you finally came to terms with your new reality, with the idea that even if you wanted it to, things would never be the same. You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, but eventually Mallory picked you up from the floor and got you back into bed, foregoing your nightly medication. As the night drew on with no sleep in sight, you found you craved it, at least it was peaceful, unlike the war raging in your mind.
Something changed that day. The oblivion you once fought tooth and nail to stay out of had become your safe haven. By the time Mallory had visited you the next morning, you had demanded it, morning, noon, and night. You didn’t see Cordelia once in the week that followed, although with how much you were sleeping, you wouldn’t have noticed even if she had payed you a visit, although you doubted she did. Your supreme had always prided herself on her communication, but you knew her well enough to know that when it came to the hard things, it was the first to go. You didn’t know what you would say if she did decide to talk to you, didn’t know if there was anything to say.
Once they were sure you could manage to get around on your own, they let you return to your room, forcing you back into reality and removing every coping mechanism you had. You kept to yourself for the first few days, downing Benadryl like it was water and sleeping through most of the day. On the third day, you managed to stumble down for dinner, only for the seat at the head of the table to remain empty the entire time. The girls were all thrilled to see you, talking your ear off about all the things you had missed, but in your haze you could barely pay attention.
From the little you did hear, it seemed your supreme had found a way to solve your dilemma, convincing the man to change his story and drop the charges in exchange for a brand new, much nicer car. A quick and dirty fix that was so unlike her, you had to wonder what state she was in when she gave the green light. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that what was done was done, but when you went back to your room it was all you could think about, staring at the ceiling for as long as you could manage before you were reaching for the Benadryl once again.
You ran out on day four, and with it, so did your patience. You had cried and wallowed and overthought for weeks on end, an endless pit that did nothing but drag you down. You couldn’t live that way anymore, so you left your room, taking up residence in the common area and hoping the chatter would keep you grounded. You talked and laughed with the girls, but no matter how hard you tried, it all felt forced, a failed distraction from the emptiness that took up residence inside your chest. The harder you pushed, the worse it felt, and by the time dinner rolled around, you had reached some fucked-up form of acceptance, resigning to the fact that you probably wouldn’t ever feel whole again.
You saw her then, at the head of the table, talking quietly with some of the younger girls, and you forced yourself to keep your head down, pushing at your food, afraid that if she met your eyes, she would bolt again. It didn’t matter, she didn’t look in your direction once, not even when your youngest student, Lottie, called your name and asked you both to watch an incantation she had just learned, or as she called it, “A magic trick”. Despite the tightness in your chest, you couldn’t help but smile at the innocence there, the way everything was still so new to her and full of wonder. You wished you still had that, like you had when you first came to the academy, before you learned of the consequences.
Cordelia was the first to leave the table, and the tension was palpable. You could feel everyone’s eyes drift to you, only to look away without a word. You grabbed your dish and headed towards the kitchen, depositing your untouched dinner in the trash and your plate in the sink.
“Well look who’s back to the land of the living.” You heard Madison call out from behind you, turning to face her. Madison was never one to beat around the bush, and you waited for the question to cut you like a knife, “Did you and Foxxy break up?”
You ground your teeth, jaw muscles flexing and releasing as you contemplated your answer, only to be hit with a punch to the gut when you realized you didn’t have one. You thought you had accepted it, whatever it was, but your eyes were glassy against your own volition, stomach twisting into knots as you spit out, “I don’t know.”
Madison’s smirk fell, the prideful look in her eyes replaced with something you couldn’t read. She didn’t push like you expected, she just nodded, and that was all you needed for your world to crack open, any strength you had left spilling out and vanishing. You grabbed your shoes and keys, heading for the door as they called out for you, saying you couldn’t leave, you weren’t strong enough yet, you could get hurt, but you didn’t care.
You didn’t care if your stitches ripped and you bled out in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t care if you were hit by oncoming traffic and left to die by the side of the road. You didn’t care if you fell off a cliff and they had to fish your body out of the river. Everything, your entire life, your entire world, was gone. There was nothing left for you, it was taken, and you didn’t care what happened next.
You arrived at the swamp with nothing but a bottle of whiskey. Misty had taken you out there once to gather mud, told you how sometimes it was the only place she could go to clear her head, her sanctuary, and you thought it might help, but as you downed the bottle and laid on her bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were desecrating sacred land. You didn’t know how people did this, how they just kept going and moved on no matter what horrors they faced. You laid down and stared at the stars and cursed the world for spinning, for time moving, because you hadn’t moved in weeks. No matter what you tried, you were still trapped in that alley, in that bed, and nothing could pull you out of it.
Well, something could, or someone, maybe, if they tried, but even that wasn’t a sure thing. You would be an idiot if you didn’t acknowledge that this was more than just an issue with Cordelia, that even if you did talk, even if you did work it out, it wouldn’t fix everything.
But at least you wouldn’t feel so alone.
When you walked through the doors three days later, she was talking with a student at the foot of the stairs, her head raising involuntarily at the sound and her eyes locking with yours. You looked away quickly, leaving your muddy shoes by the door and depositing your keys on the counter, and by the time you went to head up the stairs to shower, she was gone.
She didn’t come to dinner that night, nor the night after, and despite the girls knowing enough to not ask questions, you could hear the faint whispers when they thought you weren’t paying attention. Lottie, however, wasn’t privy to this social knowledge, and she told you everything. Apparently, the three days you were gone was the most time that anyone had seen the supreme in a month. She was back to her usual self, she even started teaching classes again, but the second you came back, she disappeared once more.
You booked a ticket home that night for the following week, quietly packing your things over the course of the next few days. You didn’t know what the future for you held, but you did know you wouldn’t find any closure here, and you weren’t willing to continue subjecting the girls to whatever this was. It was too much, and you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to get out.
You did your best to avoid telling the girls, not wanting to cause yet another spectacle for them to gawk at, but they seemed to figure it out anyways, and you weren’t sure how. They asked questions about your return, you did your best to dodge them, and for a few days it worked, until the older girls cornered you two days before you were set to leave.
“When are you coming back?” Zoe asked, trying to be delicate as she rephrased the question for the 50th time.
You sighed, “I told you, I don’t know. This isn’t as big of a deal as you guys are making it out to be. I just have some things to take care of.”
“Cut the shit, bitch.” Madison sneered, rolling her eyes, “We’ve all seen the way you and our dear supreme have been skulking around. Are you coming back or not?”
You didn’t want to tell them the truth, knowing if you did then Cordelia was sure to find out about it. You didn’t know what would hurt worse, knowing you left and didn’t give her a chance to fix it, or her finding out and doing nothing. But these were your friends, and despite wanting to have control over the situation, wanting to have the chance to break your own heart, you couldn’t lie to them. “I don’t know.” You finally said, “I don’t think so.”
Madison stared at Zoe with a raised brow, the two having a seemingly silent conversation over your head, but Zoe simply nodded and smiled at you, “Ok, that’s all we needed to know.”
They helped you pack, spent every meal with you, and even slept in your room, wanting to see you as much as possible before you left. It was a little strange to you, but you didn’t necessarily mind it, especially once you realized that the more time they spent with you, the less time they had to talk to Cordelia. They planned a movie night send off for you, gathering all the girls in the living room and handing out popcorn and snacks. After the first movie, you went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Madison calling out for you.
“I left a twelve pack of coke in the greenhouse,” She yelled, “Can you go grab it? We’re almost out and I’m too lazy to get up.”
You rolled your eyes but complied, shaking your head as you wandered out toward the greenhouse, smiling to yourself for the first time in weeks. With the way the day had gone, it had almost made you feel guilty for leaving, almost made you change your mind, but the second you stepped through the greenhouse door, a familiar pair of eyes reminded you exactly why you were going.
When she glanced up at your smiling face you swore you saw a flash of happiness, but it was gone in a moment, replaced with that same look that had been haunting you for weeks, like you were intruding on something, but you still hadn’t figured out what. You felt your cheeks catch fire as you cleared your throat, not wanting to make this any more uncomfortable than it had to be, “Sorry, I just need to grab something, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Cordelia nodded, eyebrows furrowing as she glanced back down, and you felt your nerves prickle beneath your skin, anger swirling in your gut at her display of confusion, like she was clueless.
Still, you didn’t want to cause a scene, didn’t need the added weight to carry with you, so you bit your tongue, heading towards the opposite side of the greenhouse once you spotted the red cardboard. You walked back towards the door with your head down, trying to leave the situation as quickly as possible, hand on the knob and pulling, only for the door to not budge, smacking your head on the glass. You stepped back, grabbing the knob and tugging again, but the door still wouldn’t move. You stood there awkwardly for a moment, not wanting to ask for help with something as simple as opening a door, but when you heard the blades of grass shuffle and the hushed whispers, you audibly groaned.
Cordelia glanced up, but only momentarily, “Is there something wrong?”
You sighed, “The door won’t open.”
You glanced back right as Cordelia looked up, her tone airy in that slight tell of annoyance, “Just open it.”
You glared back at her, “You try it then.”
She shook her head, “Just unlock it.”
“I can’t.” You huffed, crossing your arms and tapping your foot.
Cordelia sighed, “I meant…”
“I know what you meant.” You shot back, obviously annoyed. You were doing your best to keep it together, to act cordial, but it was difficult when Cordelia was treating you like a first-year student. “I can’t. My powers have been…” You explained, biting down on a sigh, “Temperamental, lately.”
That seemed to peak the supreme’s interest, her head tilting as she took a step towards you, “Temperamental as in you’re going to rip the door off its hinges?”
You huffed, choosing to stare anywhere else that wasn’t her, “Temperamental as in they don’t work.”
You didn’t think much of it when you heard her start to walk closer, knowing she wanted this conversation to be over just as badly as you did and was probably looking for a way to get you out of there. You didn’t expect to feel her cold fingertips graze your stomach, finding the hem of your shirt and tugging up as you whipped your head towards her, instantly batting her hands away. She glared at you, reaching for the hem once again with one hand, “We might not have gotten all the silver out.”
You grabbed her wrist, halting her movements, and glared back, “I seriously doubt that’s the issue.”
She sighed, pulling her wrist from your hand as she stood up straight, and you swear you saw her roll her eyes, walking towards the locked door and focusing. You could hear the lock click, but when Cordelia went to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. She tried again, jiggling the knob in case it was stuck, but it still wouldn’t budge, so she resorted to yanking, only to hear Madison call out, “We enchanted the locks, bitch!”
Cordelia stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before you heard her also groan, and you couldn’t help but snicker at her frustration, at realizing what you had already known. She turned briefly towards the sound, before sighing and returning to her workstation and resuming whatever she was doing.
At some point, you started pacing the length of the room, arms crossed as you waited for the girls to give up, knowing they likely were standing outside and listening to the whole thing. You didn’t know how long it went on for, but your patience was growing thin and your steps were becoming firm, stomping back and forth, back and forth.
“What are you doing?” Cordelia finally sighed, glancing up with her jaw pitched forward, another tell of annoyance.
“Contemplating murder.” You sassed, Cordelia shaking her head as she tried to focus.
“Could you stop?” She asked in that same airy tone, “You’re distracting.”
You chuckled darkly, “What are you going to do? Knock me out again?”
She rested her hands on the table, her face unimpressed and her tone painfully even, “You needed the rest.”
Another snide laugh fell from your lips as you turned on your heel, still pacing as you mumbled, “Don’t tell me what I fucking needed.”
“You were seriously injured…” Cordelia sighed, like she was scolding a child.
You whipped back towards her, eyes blazing as you bit, “I needed you.”
“I was there.” Cordelia said, shaking her head for what felt like the millionth time.
“No, you weren’t.” You shot back as the supreme sighed.
“I’m sorry if I offended you or hurt you…” She began, but you couldn’t stand to hear it.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Cordelia.” You interjected, Cordelia throwing up her hands.
“What do you want me to say?” She asked, like you were being unreasonable.
You stood your ground, digging your heels in as you fired back, “Something that doesn’t sound like you’re reading from a script would be nice.”
“I’m not!” She yelled, throwing her head back as you resumed pacing once again, trying desperately to keep yourself in check so you wouldn’t explode.
She watched you pace, back and forth, back and forth, waiting for what she knew was coming, what she couldn’t avoid. It took you longer than she expected, a million questions pilling up on the tip of your tongue, one after the other until they all started to slide out like an avalanche.
“Are you still pissed off at me? Is that what this is?”
“No, I’m not.”
You turned on your heel, staring at her once again, your tone exasperated and snappy, “Then what the hell is it? Because you can barely stand to look at me.”
“I am looking at you.”
“No, you aren’t.” You shot back, “You haven’t for weeks, you haven’t talked to me…”
Cordelia sighed, asking again, “What do you want me to say?”
“Something.” You spit out, your volume increasing, “Anything!”
You stared at her for a moment, waiting, but she just stared back, mouth gaping like she couldn’t even begin to fathom how you both got into this situation. You turned away again, biting down on a scream of frustration and resisting the urge to bang your head against the wall until you knocked yourself out. You didn’t know if you wanted to burn the place down or burst into tears, but you could feel the pressure building in your chest, and you were terrified of the outcome. The words fell out of your mouth before you had the time to register them, “Is it because I failed?”
You could hear the confusion in her tone, “What?”
You swallowed down the tears that threatened to fall, cursing yourself as you turned to face her, “I failed. You taught me how to deal with witch hunters. We went over it time and time again, and I still couldn’t…”
She couldn’t stand the sight of your watery eyes, training her gaze on the table as she croaked out, “No, god no…”
“Then what is it?” You asked again, whatever fight you had left in you disappearing, “Because I’ve been wracking my brain for weeks now, looking for some kind of reason...”
You watched her crack, just a bit, nose twitching against the ghost of tears as she shook her head and stuttered, “It’s not your fault, none of it is your fault. It’s…”
She stopped and shook her head, bracing herself on the desk as her chest heaved. You gave her a moment, not wanting to screw anything up when you were so close to getting the answers you had been searching so desperately for, but when she didn’t move to continue, you prompted her, “It’s?”
She looked up at you then, really looked at you, with tears in her eyes, moments away from spilling over, and you stepped toward her on instinct. She looked back down, clearing her throat as she tried to right herself, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
You stepped toward her again, not sure you heard her right, “What?”
“It’s my fault you got hurt.” She clarified, and you shook your head, unable to speak, but she silenced you regardless, “I took the car, I made you walk home. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and you had to pay the price.” You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, but then you heard hers, weak and broken, “And I can’t ever express to you how sorry I am for that.”
“You didn’t know…” You squeaked, “You couldn’t know…”
She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. It’s my job to protect my girls, all my girls, and I failed. I failed to protect you.”
“You- You saved me.” You stuttered, and the supreme shook her head.
“I fixed the damage I caused.” She sneered, but you knew her tone wasn’t directed at you.
“Delia...” You tried, taking another step towards her, but she held out her hand.
“If I can’t prioritize the safety of the girls over my own emotions, I’m no better than my mother.” She spit between gritted teeth, looking away to wipe at a tear once she saw your hurt expression.
You shook your head, “You could never be your mother.”
She shook her head, but didn’t respond, so you stepped forward, closing the gap between you and reaching for her, but she pushed you away, and that’s when it hit you.
She wasn’t trying to hurt you, she wasn’t punishing you, she was punishing herself. All this time you had been flipping your brain inside out, trying to find the meaning behind every look, every blank expression. But she wasn’t looking at you in disgust, she was in pain.
But the way she was looking at you now, you knew that look, had seen it time and time again, when she wanted something but couldn’t bring herself to ask for it, so you did. “Delia? Kiss me? Please?”
The look morphed as her brows pinched together, her eyes going dim as she shook her head. You begged and pleaded, wanting nothing more than for that look to return, for her to touch you and hold you and for everything to be ok again, but she wouldn’t relent. As soon as you started pleading, she stepped back and looked away, unable to bear the sight of you.
Something finally snapped, and everything you had been pushing away for the past month came rushing in like a tidal wave. You felt it buzzing in your chest, creeping up and up and up, spreading out to your limbs and making your entire body burn. You stalked towards the door, tugging on it again and again and again, bracing your feet on the walls and putting your whole body weight behind it. You looked ridiculous, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care.
At some point, Cordelia must have turned around, watching you struggle for a moment before she finally spoke, “It won’t open.”
“I don’t care.” You seethed, “It needs to.”
You settled for sitting on the ground, bracing yourself against a table and kicking with your feet, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” You spat, punctuating each word with a kick. When that didn’t seem to work, you settled for throwing your entire body against the door, hoping if you couldn’t break the lock, then you could at least crack the doorframe.
“You are still healing.” Cordelia said, walking towards you and reaching, but you batted her away, “You shouldn’t be doing any strenuous activity for at least another two weeks.”
You finally stopped, your body vibrating as you stared Cordelia down, “I don’t care. I have a plane to catch tomorrow.” Her brow furrowed, and you turned back towards the door, banging on it with your fists, “I have things to do!”
“Where are you going?” Cordelia asked, arms crossing.
You turned back towards her, throwing up your hands, “Home, Cordelia. Where else would I go?”
You watched her face contort, watched the hurt flash across her eyes, and you couldn’t stand it, “Don’t look at me like that.”
Cordelia scoffed, beginning to grow defensive, “Didn’t you want me to look at you?”
“Not like that.” You bit, “You don’t get to look at me like that, like I’m hurting you. Not after what you did.”
“According to you, I didn’t do anything.” She snapped, and you knew she was baiting you now.
“Exactly. You did nothing.” You spit between gritted teeth, whipping around and punching the door as hard as you could.
“You’re bleeding.” Cordelia stated, staring at the smear of blood on the door, then glancing at your busted knuckles.
“Good.” You bit, punching the door again, and a third time for good measure.
“Stop.” She called out sternly, but you were too far gone to listen, hitting, scratching, clawing, and kicking the door repeatedly as you lost it completely, “Stop!”
“I need to get out of here.” You huffed, “I need to go home.”
Your face smacked against the door as you slammed against it with your shoulder, tasting blood as you swallowed down the tears that were forming. Memories ripped through your mind in quick succession, a blow to your face, a kick to your ribs, and then the room constricted in time with your lungs, the walls moving closer, and closer.
You started screaming at some point, you felt it, but you could barely make it out in between the gaps in your heartbeat that was pulsing in your ears. You threw yourself against the door, harder and harder as the tears flowed in lava rivers down your face. Cordelia reached for you, shushing you and grabbing the empty space as you pulled away, screaming about home, how you needed to go home, get on a plane and never come back. How she hurt you and she didn’t care, she never cared, how all of this was a mistake, how you were a mistake.
You felt her hands grab you quickly, spinning you around before you could push her away, and then her lips were on yours and she was kissing you hard, hands pushing and pulling and grabbing anywhere they could reach, leading you away from the door and bumping into anything in your path. She kissed you like she was starving, teeth clashing and biting, nails scratching and pinching and ripping, but you were the same, and now that you had her, you couldn’t let her go. You let every part of her invade your senses, her wet cheeks pressing against your own, her gritty hands and cold rings and the taste of red wine on her tongue.
You didn’t come up for air until she pushed you against the opposite wall, lungs burning and desperate for oxygen, but even as she pulled back, you leaned forward, not wanting to face whatever came next. Your chests heaved into one another as you both stared wide eyed, and in that split second of nothing it all came crashing down. You watched her, watched her watch you, felt her chest push against you and a sob tear out of her throat, and you followed right behind her, closing your eyes as you braced for her to pull away, leaving you cold and empty once again.
Instead, she rested her forehead against yours, whimpering I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and I love you over and over and over again as she pressed her mouth to yours, pushing air into your lungs and sucking it right back out, her hands on your forearms, anchoring you in place. You held onto her hair like a lifeline, your legs giving out from exhaustion and suddenly you both were falling, but she didn’t let go.
You landed on your knees and collapsed into her, her arms wrapping around you as she pulled you to her chest, her lips pressed to your forehead and fingers carding through your hair as she whispered that same mantra, over and over and over again. You didn’t know what she was doing, didn’t know if she knew what she was doing, but with every pull of her fingers it felt like your memories of the past month were being extracted one by one, racing across your vision as the tears gave way to wails of anguish, her own cries increasing in time with yours. You felt it all over again, every ounce of emotion like it was the first time, and you didn’t know how she was doing it, or why.
When it was over, you had nothing left, no tears, no voice, no screams, nothing. You looked up at Cordelia in a daze, but she just smiled sadly back at you. You tried to speak, but your brain was fried, exhaustion quickly taking over your senses. Cordelia looked down at you knowingly, her fingers running down your cheeks as she shushed you, but you shook your head, afraid that if you gave in, you would wake up alone. She shushed you once more, kissing your forehead as she whispered, “I’m not going anywhere, it’s ok.”
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cw: spicy
Hero slowed their running to a stop, their chest heaving up and down as they caught their breath. Their lungs burned slightly and their blood zinged with adrenaline. Their eyes landed on the villain, their back leaned up against a building as they also caught their breath. A smirk came over their features as they took in their tired form.
The chase was over. Hero had Villain in the palm of their hand. Honestly, they could have caught up to them much sooner, but they loved the chase. They loved this game of cat and mouse they played with the villain. The flustered look that always came over their face when Hero caught them.
Just like the one they wore now as Hero pressed them firmly against the brick building, deep in the shadows where no one could see them. Their disheveled appearance, their face flushed a deep red, their heartbeat racing a mile a minute against Hero’s own chest. Hero loved Villain like this, flustered and weak in the knees for Hero. It fit them so well.
Villain tried to break free from the Hero, but to no avail. Hero had their hands pinned above their head and a knee wedged between their legs. Villain was helpless against Hero, they weren’t going anywhere.
“What do you want, Hero?” asked the villain with a defeated sigh. Hero pressed closer, their noses barely brushing against each other as they spoke.
“You know exactly what I want,” said Hero. “I know you were on that team that stole those diamonds.”
“You think Supervillain is going to destroy the city with a bunch of diamonds?” asked Villain. This earned a laugh from the hero, head thrown back and everything.
“Oh, villain, you crack me up,” they said. “No. I couldn’t care less why they want the diamonds, I’m just simply assigned to take them back. And lucky for me, you were on the heist team.”
Their free hand came up to ghost over Villain’s jawline, angling their face up to gain access to their neck. They placed their lips on the villain’s neck, starting with a few pecks just under their ear. Hero could feel them tense up upon the initial contact before relaxing against them. A winning smirk took form on their lips, the villain always reacted the way they wanted.
“Where are the diamonds?” they asked.
“You can’t seduce the answer out of me,” sighed the villain, but despite their words, their head moved on its own to grant Hero more access.
“Are you sure about that?” asked Hero. “It works like a charm.”
They lightly ran their fingers down Villain’s side, making sure to graze over every sensitive spot Villain had. They stopped at the waistband of Villain’s jeans, dancing their thumb over the exposed skin above their hip and earning a shuddering sigh from their criminal.
“Not this time,” Villain said. A choked gasp escaped their lips when the hero’s leg made firm contact with the area between their thighs. They subconsciously jutted forward to chase the friction of their nemesis’ leg. “I promised Supervillain I wouldn’t tell, they’ve been planning this heist for years.”
Hero breathed hotly over Villain’s ear, thoroughly enjoying Villain’s reaction to their every move. “Don’t worry love, I’ll keep your pretty name out of my mouth.”
They moved away from Villain’s neck, looking them in the eyes as they batted their lashes and put on their best puppy dog look. Their lips brushed over the Villain’s as they spoke.
“C’mon, Villain, won’t you tell me?” they asked prettily. “Please?”
Villain sighed audibly, Hero’s free hand had made it all the way under their shirt, cool fingers playing with sensitive skin. They couldn’t think with the hero’s hands all over them, their leg pushing between their thighs in a beautiful friction, their lips so close to their own, their sultry voice like music in their ears.
They knew they shouldn’t but they caved, muttering the exact location of where to find the stolen diamonds and exactly how to get past security. They knew they wouldn’t be able to keep the secret for long; Hero was too good at bending them to their will, too good at getting what they wanted. They felt too good against Villain for them to not give in to them. They could feel the movement of Hero’s lips as they formed into a smirk.
“Good Villain,” the hero praised, causing a sense of pride to swell up in Villain’s chest. They loved being praised by Hero, they way the words fell so easily out of their mouth like a villain being good was the natural thing.
“It’s time for your reward.”
Villain didn’t wait for Hero to move, they lurched their head forward, mashing their lips with the hero’s in a much needed kiss. They melted into the kiss, drowning in the sensation of having them pressed so wonderfully close to them. Hero hummed against their lips, quickly taking control as they pulled Villain impossibly close.
They took their time to undo the villain, ravaging them in the secluded alley. They raked their nails over Villain’s skin beneath their clothes, sucked numerous hickeys into hidden places as well as very obvious places. They marked the criminal as theirs, abused all of their sensitive areas with experience that came from multiple sessions like this between the two. They turned the villain into putty in their hands, drawing out long-winded moans Villain had to suppress with their hand.
By the end, they were clinging tightly to each other and panting heavily into the others’ mouths. Villain’s hands clutched hard onto Hero shoulders, a blissed out expression on their face as they eyed the hero’s smirk.
“You’re an evil hero,” they sighed. This earned a chuckle from the hero, who stole yet another kiss from Villain’s swollen lips.
“Only for you, pretty,” replied the hero, their own hands wrapped around the villain in a way that looked like a hug. “Same time next week? I believe you've got a crime of your own I need to stop.”
Villain nodded enthusiastically, probably a bit too enthusiastically, but they couldn’t bring themself to care. This game of cat and mouse was too exciting, too addicting for the villain to stop. They craved the attention they got from the hero, their body zinging with anticipation every week.
They knew the dangers of this; the feelings that would eventually catch on, the mess it could easily turn into if they’re not careful. The potential loss of one another if feeling ever did catch. The pain of an unrequited love.
But for now, they focused on the present. The hero’s strong arms around their waist and the endless stream of kisses they always left on their shoulders. The promise of another chase through the city. Another game of cat and mouse that will eventually end in disaster.
But only if Villain stayed oblivious to the fondness that resided behind the hero’s eyes as well.
#my own#writing#fantasy#imagines#oneshot#writers of tumblr#female writers#hero#villain#hero x villain#villain x hero#heroes and villains#villains and heroes#cw spice#dom hero#sub villain
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Hey I’m not sure if your taking prompts at the moment but I was wondering if you could write some thing with Larissa x Reader
Reader has been distant lately but because they are planning on proposing but Larissa thinks something else is going on and shape shifts to spy on R but R knows Larissa so well they can tell it’s her
I hope you enjoy this one, Anon!
“Rissa?’
The man looked up from his newspaper, a confused look on his face. You tilted your head, eyes sweeping over him. Arms crossed over your chest, you stared down at him, waiting for him to admit to what he was doing.
“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person,” he said in a gravelly voice.
“I know it’s you,” you said, “you’ve been following me all day.”
And she had.
You’d been walking around town all day, making sure all your plans were perfect for the next night. The bakery had the cake ready for delivery, the violin player was confirmed, and you’d bought a really tasteful table cloth. But you’d noticed her tailing you as a variety of strangers.
You always knew it was her.
No matter what facade she had on, she had a tell. Her fingers would clench every time you caught her eye. It was the exact tell that told you you should ask her on that first date. It was the tell when you’d first kissed her. It was her tell whenever it came to you.
You settled yourself on the bench beside him, turning your body to look at him properly. His brown eyes were staring back, mouth downturned in a frown. You grinned back.
“The florist, the bakery, the young man’s house, a horrible craft shop, the Weathervane, Pilgrimworld, the linen shop, the Weathervane again, and now here,” you said, listing off all the places you’d been, “taffy?”
He stared down at the outstretched paper bag in your hands. You shook it at him. He sighed, plucking a piece of taffy out, and you grinned.
“I really think you have the wrong person,” he said, “I certainly haven’t been to the Weathervane twice today.”
“I might believe you if I didn’t know you so well, sweetheart,” you replied, taking your own piece of taffy, grimacing when you put it in your mouth, “hence why I bought your favourite flavour of taffy even though I hate it.”
He sighed, form slowly shifting back into the woman you were irrevocably in love with. You smiled at her again, shifting closer, plucking the newspaper from her hands. She was staring at you.
“How did you know it was me?” she asked.
“I always know it’s you,” you replied, “so now the question is why you’ve been following me all day while I run errands?”
“Who’s the young man?” she asked in return.
“A fabulous violin player,” you replied, “I’ve hired his services.”
“What for?”
“Well, I was planning on proposing to you tomorrow night, which you might have figured out if you were paying more attention, but I’m guessing you thought something bad was going on,” you said.
“How do you know it’s me?” she asked, “when I’ve shifted into someone else.”
“You do this thing with your hand when I look at you,” you said, “no one else would notice.”
“You’re going to propose to me?”
You shifted even closer to her, gently cupping her cheek until her beautiful eyes were looking at you. Your thumb ran along her cheekbone.
“What did you think was going on?” you asked.
“You’ve been so distantly lately,” she said, shaking her head, “I thought…”
“That I was cheating on you with the young man from the house I visited today,” you said, it all clicking in your head.
“Can you blame me?” she snapped, “you’ve been keeping me at arms length for weeks now, out all hours, keeping secrets. What was I meant to think?”
“Ideally that I’d never cheat on you,” you said, “but I suppose I can’t argue the facts here.”
“So you’re really planning on proposing to me?” she asked.
“If you’d still like that,” you said, “I know I’m nothing but a rotten cheater but I would like to spend my life with you.”
“Alright,” she said slowly, “you can propose to me tomorrow night.”
You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She smiled at you again.
“But only if the ring is really nice,” she warned.
“Oh, you’re going to love it,” you replied, “now let’s go home.”
She stood, holding out her hand to you. Your fingers tangled together and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.
#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems imagine#larissa weems#principal weems x reader#principal weems imagine
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chapter 6 thoughts: (spoilers ahead!)
oh. fuck.
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he was king. now he’s a martyr.
holy shittttt
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aftg really brings us all together, this is random but i love talking to other fan accounts about the books
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anyway fanfics will no longer have to speculate when rikos funeral was, and if kevin attended or not (or if he had a mental breakdown about it)
also neil u have no tact babe and i love u for it
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oh renee ur so lovely ur so insightful (neil u should listen to what she has to say)
jean and his ‘i won’t grieve him’ ❤️🫶
- ‘promise me’ jean said with a desperation that should have kill him, nathaniel didn’t hesitate, ‘i promise’ SHUT THE FUCK UP I LOVE THEM THANK U NORA THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED FROM THIS BOOK
THE SWAP FROM NATHANIEL TO NEIL IS JUST AS POWERFUL FROM JEANS PERSOECTIVE IN TSC AS IT WAS IN FROM NEILS IN TKM I LITERALLY CANNOT THE PARALLELS ARE KILLING ME
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it’s 1:40 am and i’ve just made a cup of tea to keep myself awake
feeling many things about jeans perusal of the fox photo wall and taking renee’s picture
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i know these motherfuckers aren’t accusing neil kevin and jean of abandoning that cunt and leading to his ‘suicide’
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WE ARE THE RIGHT PEOPLE I THINK JUST NOT THE RIGHT TIME (look i am admittedly not a jean/renee shipper but good god they are so sweet in this)
A COOL EVENING BREEZE AND RAINBOWS
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screaming as silently as i can rn
- petition for someone to put summertime sadness on the jean playlist
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whattttt is the mystery about jeremy’s family?? what is this fabled fall banquet that tore his family in half im so intrigued i have to know more
ALSO JEREMY IS IN THERAPY AND HAS SOME SORT OF FAMILY ISSUES I KNEW IT IM SURE THATS ON A BINGO SOMEWHERE
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jeremy dad of the trojans checking to see that they’re safe and also cody first cannon non binary character??? pls say yes
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accidentally fell asleep in the middle of my planned all nighters whoops it’s currently 7 am
chapter 7:
“I like to indulge,” Jeremy said with a dimpled smile. Kevin’s words mocked him in the back of his thoughts: “Some of them you like.”
i did. notice this in chapter 2 or whatever but is this?? are we getting jerejean???? that’s what this means righ??
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jeremy wdym ‘oh to be the pampered elite’ u have a butler??
jean defending kevin saying he’s earned the right to be arrogant be still my beating heart i love these stubborn mother fuckers
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He was years away, watching a different beautiful boy lean in close to say, Will you teach me when he’s not watching? It could be our secret.
STOP IT RN
chapter 8!!
flicked him a sly look. “Easy on the eyes, maybe.”
AHHHHH!!!
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also so glad that there’s 100% confirmation cat and laila are dating (shared bedroom!)
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the description of laila and cats lounge room is so soft and cozy im so jealous i wish i was there
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barkbark von barkenstein u will never top sir fat cat mcatterson (although props to nora for always having simultaneously the worst and most creative names for pets)
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jean telling cat she’s a good player but misses every ball at her hips is literally every raven! (someone) fic ever come to life where they meet a relatively normal other team and have absolutely no tact or awareness of what others considered rude and immediately tell the other players what their weaknesses are (i’m obsessed)
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“Yes,” he said, and if he didn’t sound sure, he at least sounded angry. “Let them all burn. I hope none of them survive.” BABY I LOVE U IM SO PROUD OF U UR SAFE NOW FUCK RIKO FUCK THE RAVENS FUCK THE MASTER
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“Oh, he’s good. A bit rude, but I like him. I think we’re going to be good friends.”
i’d say the exact same thing
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*jeremy giving jean the keys*
well it’s not andreil levels of drama and symbolism but love a good comparison
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or they do not care enough about her wellbeing. It’s unforgivable either way.”
giggling a bit over jean being up in arms about boba knowing that he’d be seriously unimpressed with me if he knew how much boba i drank
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he wants to know what it was for
AND WHAT IF THAT LINE BROKE ME NORA?? AND WHAT THEN??
The Ravens had given up everything to be the undefeated champions, only to be destroyed last month by a tiny team from South Carolina.
I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE
“Loving something is not enough,” Jean told him, right on cue. “When is the last time you enjoyed playing?” Jeremy asked. “Irrelevant,” Jean said. “I am Jean Moreau; I am perfect Court. I do not need to enjoy it to be the best backliner in the NCAA.”
that was what Jean felt safest in, Jeremy would back his decision wholeheartedly.
LITERALLY LEAVE ME ALONE
chapter 9999
also i’m so glad that we have jeremy/laila/cat friendship like in fics and stuff they were always best buddies coz they were the only trojan characters named in the books but it’s great to see they’re actually good friends in cannon
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“I need you to listen to me for one moment,” Laila said, “and I need you to believe me when I say it. Fuck Coach Moriyama.”
AGREED AGREED AGREED FUCK THAT CUNT
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COOKING LESSONS WITH JEAN THIS IS THE WHOLESOME CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR
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cat talking macronutrients and promising to help with his diet so it’s still familiar but more fun in order to begin healing jeans relationship with food is so important to me
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nora bleaching jeremy’s hair blonde after telling us she was shocked we all headcannoned him as blonde while she thought he was brunette is so funny to me,, don’t worry fan artists u do not have to change a thing!
(frosted tips made me giggle too, jeremy u pussy)
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“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”
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chapter 10
jean learning basic household chores like sorting and washing clothes and deep cleaning the apartment and learning his way around a supermarket <3
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LAILA CAT JEAN FRIENDSHIP IS REAL
Afternoons were filled with whatever the women were in the mood for that day, be it wandering downtown, shopping, or combing through estate sales.
Jean went where they took him because it was better than being left in the house alone,
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COOKING IS HEALING JEAN ITS A COMFORT THING SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS EVERYTHUNG HES SO REAL FOR THAT
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Ravens graduated; they didn’t leave.
fuck if that didn’t just stop my heart
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i definitely should have been more wary of the trigger warnings. if anyone is wanting to read the book but is worried about certain parts, i’d be happy to let y’all know what sections are triggering so u can try and skip around them.
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But Jean was not a Raven, and Wayne was dead.
FUCK YEAH BABY NOT ANYMORE U ARENT
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the thought of that quiet space with its single bed was so repulsive he turned toward the living room instead. - this is so important to me
He could sense the others’ presence even if they weren’t around to bother him, and that was enough to take the edge off the loneliness eating at his heart.
literally end my life i’m so happy for jean, he’s healing slowly but surely
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this was better than anything he’d ever had. It was worlds more than he deserved. He feared it as much as he wanted it;
JEAN U DO DESERVE IT I PROMISE U
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wait wtf,, zane is reacher??? in literally every raven fic ever reacher is the most abusive character other than riko
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OMFG BEACH SCENE??? THEYRE GONNA TAKE JEAN TO THE BEACH??? CHECK THAT OFF EVERY SINGLE BINGO CARD MADE FOR THIS BOOK
^ yeah i wrote that two seconds before then reading jeans panic attack about drowning and the trigger of riko waterboarding him and neil and now i want to cry
#aftg#all for the game#the foxhole court#tsc#the sunshine court#jean moreau#jeremy knox#laila dermott#catalina alvarez#nora sakavic#usc trojans#renee walker#neil josten#andrew minyard#kevin day#david wymack#nathaniel wesninski
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https://theninthdoor.tumblr.com/post/721370039430807552/can-you-do-bad-sidesquestionnable-reading-for
I see you've done this! Tysm. May I please request the same of stray kids as well? Have a nice day!!
request: Stray Kids' questionable/bad sides
again… before you read: make sure that you take everything with a grain of salt and put your common sense to good use! no human being is 100% angel; no one is perfect + some of these things we, ourselves, do or think of doing from time to time.
still, if anyone is expecting idols to be some sort of perfect demi-gods, the internet might not be for you 💘
also, of course, i’m not claiming anything as facts. feel free to dismiss my interpretations, if you wish.
Bang Chan || knight of swords rx, the chariot: Domineering. Wants to lead + to feel the strongest, even if it requires some gaslighting. Lacks tact, at times. May miss some social cues without realizing. Uses rudeness as a way to mask his insecurities. Uses his career achievements as his whole identity.
Lee Know || the hermit, the world: Keeps too many secrets; really bad at communicating and being honest about his thoughts and opinions. Silence is always the solution for him, just not for everybody else. It's never him that has to change, but others; others must adapt to him, not him to them. A know-it-all, too.
Changbin || nine of wands rx, two of cups: He wants his friends/family/partners to have the exact same opinions and tastes as him. Plus, he can't stand feeling left out, so bet he's going to be jumping through hoops to be everywhere all time just so they don't have a chance to keep things from him - he must be present and informed, at all times! Changbin is also very paranoid and overprotective, has poor boundaries and may sometimes become quite co-dependent. He simply can't be alone for too long.
Hyunjin || knight of cups, justice: He knows how to sweet-talk someone to get whatever he wants. Hyunjin will become whoever you wish him to become in order to accomplish his own goals. He's well aware of his image + the of the power he holds over others, and he's not afraid of using it. Besides that, he also gets way too invested in things, even to the point of being completely unrealistic with his plans and expectations. Everyone is "the one" for him at least once.
Han || knight of cups, eight of wands rx: Loses interest very quickly; starts or buys things on a whim, but forgets about them overnight. In love with the idea of love, but doesn't feel like going through all of the hard work that relationships require. Often lets his emotions control him more than he controls them; definitely keeps his rose tinted glasses close by. But, again, soon he's onto the next thing (or person of interest)…
Felix || the hanged man rx, two of pentacles: He's never happy with what he has; always thinks others have it easier or better than him. Very impulsive; regrets his decision as soon as he makes them. Felix never learns… he'll make the same mistake a thousand times and still not understand what he's doing wrong. Keeps busy to avoid certain people/situations/issues.
Seungmin || four of pentacles, queen of wands: Greedy; what's his is his, and he's not going to share it with anybody. Way too proud. Likes attention and compliments a little too much. Materialistic; uses material things to get the attention/compliments that he's looking for.
I.N || the tower rx, nine of cups rx: Tends to sweep things under the rug instead of facing his issues properly. I.N's always expecting the worst, so quite often he might run away before the situation has had time to develop. Hates change more than anything - even good and necessary change! Might throw a big ol' tantrum every now and then.
(Disclaimer: All readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)
#stray kids tarot#kpop tarot#tqqstraykids#stray kids han tarot#stray kids i.n tarot#stray kids bang chan tarot#stray kids felix tarot#stray kids hyunjin tarot#stray kids lee know tarot#stray kids changbin tarot#stray kids seungmin tarot
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something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)
Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.
To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.
Chapter 2 | prev next mlist
Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout
Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au
Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun
Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol mentions, poor decision making perhaps
Rating: Explicit
Length: 7.1k
Mark wonders in retrospect if he should’ve at least tried to dress up a little. Not, like, a full suit or something, but at least a button-down instead of a t-shirt under a hoodie, and maybe khakis or whatever instead of jeans he’s pretty sure he’s had since his sophomore year of high school. But it’s far too late for that now, so he pushes the doors to the coffee shop open with a deep breath.
He hasn’t told anyone about this meeting. He considered telling Johnny, but honestly he’s kind of worried it’s going to go really poorly, and he could do without teasing. Besides, it’s not like he needs someone to know his location for safety reasons. They’re just gonna chat. If it goes well and they arrange a more private meeting, then he’ll loop Johnny in. For now, it’s Mark’s little secret.
He orders his drink (a red velvet hot cocoa, if you must know, but hopefully this Yuno guy won’t ask) and looks around surreptitiously while he waits for it. The booth in the corner is empty, so once his drink is ready, he steels himself and heads over to it, dropping down onto the plush seat that faces the door so he can keep an eye out.
He’s barely taken a sip of hot cocoa when he feels someone approach. He looks up, apprehensive, but it’s—
“Jaehyun-hyung,” Mark says in surprise, tongue almost tripping over the honorific. Jaehyun had insisted on hyung when Mark tried to call him ssaem again. “Hey.”
“Mark,” Jaehyun says, sounding equally surprised. “I, uh, I saw you over here and thought I’d come say hi. What a coincidence, huh?”
“Yeah,” Mark agrees dumbly, trying to peer around Jaehyun’s shoulders for his mystery man without being obvious.
“What brings you here?” Jaehyun asks, nodding at the cup in Mark’s hand. “I thought you weren’t too big on coffee.”
“It’s hot cocoa,” Mark admits sheepishly. Jaehyun grins, dimples popping out and making Mark’s stomach flop pathetically. He has to get Jaehyun out of here before Yuno arrives, or it’s about to get really awkward—and blow whatever slim chance he might have had with Jaehyun completely. “I’m, uh, I’m waiting for someone.”
“Oh!” There’s a pause. They blink at each other, and Mark feels his anxiety climb a tick higher. “I am too, actually. Which—I mention only because I had arranged to meet at this exact table. With the person I’m waiting for.”
“Oh,” Mark says. “Another coincidence, I guess! The person I’m supposed to be meeting agreed to meet at this table, too.” Confusion and something else Mark can’t figure out flicker across Jaehyun’s face. “But,” he adds quickly, making to get up, “we had a second spot if this table was taken, so no worries! I can totally go.”
“No, that’s okay,” Jaehyun says immediately. “I also—I also planned a backup spot. You’re already sitting.”
“Are you sure?” Mark asks, still half out of his seat. “C’mon, I was always taught it was bad manners to make someone older than me stand if I could give them a seat.”
“I’m barely in my forties, I’m not geriatric,” Jaehyun replies, soft humor entering his voice. “It’s fine,” he adds. “The spot by the window has chairs, too.”
“Hang on,” Mark says, horror slowly dawning. “That’s—that’s your backup spot?”
Jaehyun’s expression drops. “Ah,” he says. “Yes. Why?”
“It’s just—that’s also my backup spot,” Mark says, and then rushes on before he can chicken out. “And this is starting to feel like way too many coincidences.”
Jaehyun swallows, looking around, and then slowly lowers himself into the seat opposite Mark. He leans in a little so Mark can hear him. “Are you—are you Minhyung, by chance?”
Mark’s heart hammers in his chest. He thinks he might be a little nauseous; suddenly, the red velvet hot cocoa seems like a terrible idea. “Uh, yeah, I am,” he manages. When did his mouth get so dry? “Are… you Yuno?”
“Yeah, yes, I am,” Jaehyun mutters, leaning back. “Shit.”
“Shit,” Mark repeats.
They’re silent for a minute, fidgeting. Mark watches Jaehyun through his eyelashes. The thing is, if Mark didn’t already know Jaehyun, if Jaehyun wasn’t his baby niece’s fucking music teacher, he’d be perfect. He’d fuck Jaehyun for free. Honestly, he kind of thinks he should be the one paying Jaehyun.
“Well,” Jaehyun says finally. “This is awkward. How about we just… forget this happened?”
Mark knows it’s probably for the best. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with it, but it feels weird. And kids are kinda perceptive. What if Lucy picks up on something and then says something to James? Mark’s good at lying to his parents, but James can always call Mark on his bullshit. And then what? “Yeah,” Mark says slowly. “We probably should.”
Jaehyun laughs, tracing the wood grain on the table with one of his fingers. “You’re probably relieved, right? I’m probably not what you had in mind when you were messaging Yuno.”
Mark’s stupid mouth gets ahead of him again. “Honestly? Other than the fact that you teach my niece, you’d be a great fit,” he says. “I was afraid you were gonna be, like, super old. And super ugly.”
Jaehyun lets out surprised laughter. “Well, I’m glad you think I’m not super ugly,” he says.
“No, I mean—” Mark’s face is burning, he can feel it. God, it’s so embarrassing and definitely fucked up of him, but he wants Jaehyun so bad, and he kind of doesn’t care if his brother finds out.
“That’s a bad set of criteria,” Jaehyun says. “I mean, who cares about age or looks if he’s a creep? Or a murderer?”
“What if we didn’t forget about this?” Mark blurts.
“What?”
“I mean, it’s like you just said. What if the next person I meet is a murderer? Or, like, a cannibal? Or, you know, is super old and super ugly?” Mark says. At least this gets Jaehyun to huff out some laughter. “Like, we kind of already know each other. I don’t think you’re a murderer. I’m definitely not a murderer.” And I already like you.
Jaehyun sighs. “Yeah, but what about Lucy?”
“It’s not like she’s my kid,” Mark says. “And even if she was, so what?”
“What if I subconsciously give her preferential treatment?” Mark can’t tell if Jaehyun is joking or not.
“Dude,” Mark says, and then cringes. “Is that, like, really what you’re worried about?”
Jaehyun lets out a quiet chuckle. “No,” he admits. A pause. Jaehyun looks down at his hands, then back up at Mark, eyebrows pinched. “Mark, you’re twenty. And I’m… not.”
“You were fine with the idea before you knew it was me,” Mark points out, maybe a little grumpier than he meant it.
“Right, but—” Jaehyun cuts himself off with a sigh. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Mark arches an eyebrow at him. “It’s not like we’d be, what, in a relationship or something. I have a mind of my own, hyung. And you don’t seem like the manipulative type. We’d just—be fucking, that’s all. I’m fine with that. And I understand the consequences.”
“Do you?” Jaehyun asks. Mark thinks it was supposed to come out snappier, but mostly he just sounds weary.
“If you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Mark says. He’s not going to try to coerce Jaehyun into this. If this is going to happen, it’ll be because they both decided to do it.
Jaehyun presses his lips together, thinking. Mark wants desperately to keep talking just to fill the stifling silence, or else leap up and run away and be done with this forever, but he forces himself to sit still, taking another sip of his cooling cocoa.
But finally Jaehyun speaks. “The problem is I do want to,” he says quietly. There’s something under the veil of his calm tone, but Mark can’t exactly place his finger on it.
“Oh.” Mark doesn’t know what to say. Jaehyun’s so taciturn, but when he does speak, he’s always straightforward and honest. It makes Mark feel like he’s just gotten the ground ripped out from under him. Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve known who Yuno was from the start. He texted the exact same way he speaks. He clears his throat. “Yeah, okay. Uh, but—I don’t need you to pay me. Really. It’s not like I need the money, I just thought some actual income might be nice. But—it’s you, so. So we can forget the whole… sugar daddy thing.” He has to practically drag the words from his mouth.
Jaehyun shakes his head. “Still. I would like to take care of you. If I can.”
Mark can feel himself paling at the thought. “I can’t accept money from you, hyung.”
“You came into this looking for a specific kind of arrangement,” Jaehyun counters. “It’s not fair that you don’t get… what you were looking for, just because it’s me.”
I’m getting exactly what I was looking for, Mark wants to say. “It wasn’t just the money I was after,” he says instead.
Jaehyun laughs at this. “Okay, I catch your drift. But still. Let me spoil you sometimes, at least,” he says, like he’s bartering. “Just little things. Help you out with groceries. Take you out to dinner or something.” When Mark hesitates, he continues, “I want to. I like it.”
Mark thinks about it, then nods. If Jaehyun’s offering, he’d be stupid to refuse. Besides, he seems so genuine, it almost feels rude to say no. “Okay,” he agrees.
“Okay,” Jaehyun repeats. They look at each other for a second, and then Jaehyun kind of nods to himself. “So,” he says. “How do we want to do this?”
Mark fidgets. “I mean,” he says. “We can—we can do whatever, but I’m free for the rest of today, so.”
Jaehyun smiles. “Wanna… come back to mine, then?” he offers.
“Yes,” Mark says, maybe a little too quickly. He’s almost worried Jaehyun’s gonna change his mind at any minute, and he wants the chance to prove himself before either of them can chicken out.
Jaehyun doesn’t say anything about it, just stands, serene. “My car’s across the street,” he says.
Mark doesn’t recognize the relief for what it is until they step out onto the sidewalk. He’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to go through all the song and dance of proving he’s the right balance of hardworking, sexy, and poor to some random man just so he can get a weekly allowance. He probably would’ve made way more money that way, but the payoff is worth it. He watches the pretty line of Jaehyun’s neck as he checks for cars before crossing the street. He doesn’t have to pretend he thinks the man he’s fucking is hot. He doesn’t have to pretend he doesn’t think Jaehyun is hot now, either, except for when Lucy’s looking. In one bizarre, dizzying moment, it seems like everything has fallen into place.
Jaehyun’s car is as surprising as everything else about him. It’s all white, some fancy new kind with what is basically an iPad as the dashboard interface. It hums to life with a press of a button. Mark peeks at the different options on the stick shift, trying to be as surreptitious as possible. It looks like some kind of hybrid model, but it’s about as far from a Prius as Mark can imagine.
“Nice car,” he says belatedly as Jaehyun pulls out into the street.
Jaehyun laughs softly. “Thank you,” he says. “I know my rich-guy side is a little hard to reconcile with the music teacher you first met, but I promise the music teacher is a little closer to who I actually am. I just… indulge.”
“You don’t have to justify it to me, man,” Mark says. “It’s, um. It’s kinda hot.”
Jaehyun laughs again, louder this time and a little flustered. “So you do just like me for my money.”
“No, that’s not what I meant!” Mark feels a blush rising to his cheeks as Jaehyun continues to laugh—not meanly, though it embarrasses Mark all the same. But refuting it would be so much worse. Yeah, Mark likes Jaehyun’s money. But he also likes everything else about him. The money hardly registers on the list of Things Mark Likes About Jaehyun. And he can’t possibly say that.
Luckily, Jaehyun seems like he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “Will you stay for dinner?” he asks. “I’m not much of a cook, but we can order in.”
“I’d love that,” Mark says. I guess I am just whoring myself out for food, he thinks to himself, which is fine.
They chat as Jaehyun drives. Mark tells Jaehyun which instruments he plays. Jaehyun tells him about his company—his parents made him go into something “serious” in college, but his grandmother insisted he also study something he enjoyed, so that’s how he ended up with business and music.
“They were both right,” Jaehyun says cheerfully as he pulls into the driveway of a small but pretty house and turns off his engine. “Oh, I forgot to mention—I have two dogs. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, I love dogs,” Mark says earnestly, wondering faintly if Jaehyun could get any more perfect.
“Good, because my dogs love people,” Jaehyun says, popping his door open and stepping out of the car.
Mark follows, glancing over the plants that line Jaehyun’s front walk. Either Jaehyun hires landscapers or he just really likes gardening, but regardless Mark finds himself charmed. He likes the image of Jaehyun planning his yard, his house, his decor.
Jaehyun’s already on the front porch, unlocking the door. Mark can hear excited barking from inside. “Back, guys,” Jaehyun says, amusement rich in his voice. “Inside voices, please. Back. Sit. Princess, sit. Good dogs. Stay. C’mon, Mark, before they run out into the street.”
“Sorry,” Mark says, jogging up the steps, kicking his shoes off quickly and ducking inside right after Jaehyun, closing the door behind him.
Two dogs are sitting right inside, perfectly still except for their tails, which are wagging furiously. “This is Princess Buttercup,” Jaehyun says, gesturing at the big Doberman on the left. “And this is The Dread Pirate Roberts,” he concludes, nodding to the small white ball of fluff on the right.
Mark can’t help it—he busts out laughing as he crouches to greet the dogs, who pop up at Jaehyun’s signal and immediately cover him in kisses. “Dude, I love The Princess Bride,” he says through his laughter.
“Me too,” Jaehyun says, sounding a little sheepish. “I know, it’s silly.”
“Yeah, it’s so silly,” Mark agrees, still laughing. “It’s hilarious, I love it.”
“People usually just call them Princess and Bobby for short,” Jaehyun says. “Okay, guys, give Mark some space. I’ll give you a quick tour.”
Jaehyun leads him into the living room, the dogs trailing after. There are plants in the corners and some kind of diffuser on one of the side tables. The back wall is floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto a large backyard, which includes a spacious patio and a clean, glittering pool. It’s not super fancy, but it’s neat and tidy. Mark suppresses a shudder at the thought of his own messy apartment. He hopes Jaehyun never asks to come over, because he is not going to be impressed.
Another (larger) part of his brain, however, is losing it over how nice everything is. Jaehyun is rich rich. It’s not a whole bunch of gaudy pieces, either, just the sort of muted air of prestige that means a stupid amount of money is hiding beneath the simple facade.
“Don’t get too intimidated,” Jaehyun says, like he’s reading Mark’s mind. “I’m not this neat on my own. I hire a cleaning service, and they were just here yesterday.”
Mark laughs. “I’m kinda relieved to hear that,” he admits. “I’m… pretty disorganized myself, so…”
Jaehyun grins back at him, and Mark feels a knot of tension release in his back. Money aside, how they got here aside, it’s still Jaehyun. Not some random man Mark met on the internet. Jaehyun. Mark shouldn’t be nervous, he should be excited.
“Anyway,” Jaehyun continues. Again, there’s something in his voice that Mark doesn’t understand. He’s talking quickly and his tone is a little detached, like his mind is elsewhere. “Kitchen is through there, along with my office and a guest room. You can explore later, but I think the main attraction is upstairs.”
Mark kind of wants to just take him on his stupid, beautiful leather couch, but it’s clear Jaehyun has some kind of plan, and he doesn’t want to disrupt it. “Sure,” he says instead. “Show me your bedroom.”
Jaehyun’s bedroom is much like the rest of his house. It’s simple and clean, with not much extra. There’s two pillows on his bed. The sheets are a cold, pale blue, crumpled like Jaehyun made his bed in a rush that morning. There’s a walk-in closet in one corner, door just barely ajar, and another door that Mark assumes leads to the bathroom. The windows are big, curtains open, and from up here, Mark can see just past the short trees that line the boundary of Jaehyun’s yard and into the neighbor’s backyard beyond.
He looks back to find Jaehyun hovering near his bed, and realizes that he seems kind of nervous. Before Mark can try to think of something to say, though, Jaehyun speaks.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks quietly.
Mark stares at him for a second. “Yes,” he says. “Why… would I not want to?”
“You could have anyone.” There’s a helplessness to the way he says it, and suddenly all the weird shit Mark’s been picking up on all day makes sense.
He steps closer to Jaehyun. Just because he’s older doesn’t mean he doesn’t need reassurance. Maybe it means he needs it even more. Mark gets to make mistakes. He gets to be awkward, clumsy, fallible, because he’s young. Jaehyun probably thinks he can’t, because he’s the older one. But the truth is Mark liked him when he thought he was just an unreasonably hot children’s music teacher, double-checking that he wasn’t letting one of his students get kidnapped.
“Maybe,” he says softly, reaching out and taking one of Jaehyun’s hands. “But I want you.”
“Yeah?” Jaehyun is leaning in.
“Yeah,” Mark breathes. “It’s kind of, um—I wanted you from the first time I saw you, I think. So you don’t have to worry about me.”
“Okay,” Jaehyun agrees. Mark’s already closing his eyes; he feels breath in his cheek, and then Jaehyun is kissing him.
Mark very nearly moans, thankfully catching the noise before it manages to escape, kissing back as soon as he knows what’s happening. Jaehyun’s hands come up to cup Mark’s cheeks, and Mark grabs Jaehyun’s waist to pull him closer, kissing deeper before breaking apart to give them a second to recover.
“Is this okay?” he asks softly, too scared to open his eyes.
“Yes,” Jaehyun replies, knocking his forehead gently against Mark’s.
It’s like something’s unlocked inside of Mark. He’s gotten Jaehyun’s permission, and he’s absolutely going to abuse that privilege. He leans in, kissing Jaehyun again and waiting for him to relax so he can push his tongue past Jaehyun’s teeth, feeling heady satisfaction flood his body when Jaehyun fucking moans, his hands tightening on Mark’s jaw. Mark walks them blindly toward the bed, backing Jaehyun up against it until the mattress makes Jaehyun’s knees fold.
Mark leans over him, anchoring one knee on the mattress next to Jaehyun’s hip, knocking Jaehyun’s knees apart with his other leg so he can get up close. Jaehyun tips his chin up to accommodate this change, hands finding Mark’s chest and ribs instead. Mark cradles the base of Jaehyun’s skull in his palm, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip and finally pulling away. A string of spit spans the space between them before snapping midair, and it should be gross, but Mark swears it just makes him harder.
He brushes some hair off of Jaehyun’s forehead, trying to catch his breath. “Can I fuck you now?” he asks quietly.
“Please,” Jaehyun replies softly.
Mark smiles. He feels kind of insane, actually, but it doesn’t matter because whatever wild light his eyes have taken on only seems to excite Jaehyun. “Yeah?” he says. “Gonna let me fuck you, hyung?”
“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun hums. Mark brushes his hands out of the way so he can pull his t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind him, then leans in to kiss Jaehyun again. He sneaks his hands down to fumble with the buttons on Jaehyun’s shirt. Somehow, he undoes them without looking, and Jaehyun shrugs his shirt off without breaking the kiss. Mark swipes it out of the way and steps back to give Jaehyun room to fully clamber up onto the bed.
It takes Mark a second to figure out what he’s looking at. Somehow, he’d always imagined Jaehyun with a soft body—still somewhat lean, but certainly not this. Mark trails his gaze over Jaehyun’s sturdy pecs, his absolute washboard abs.
“Dude,” he stutters. He nearly bites his own tongue trying to get the words out. “What the fuck?”
Jaehyun blinks up at him, innocent confusion making his eyes sparkle prettily. “What?”
“You’re—I didn’t think—fuck, you’re so hot,” Mark manages. His limbs finally unfreeze, and he’s at Jaehyun’s side in an instant, albeit a little clumsily. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, half to himself, bending over Jaehyun’s body and pressing an almost reverent kiss between his pecs, running a hand down his torso.
And when he looks up, Jaehyun is flushed a pretty pink, which makes Mark’s stupid dick twitch in his pants. “So are you,” Jaehyun points out, and Mark shakes his head.
“Not the same,” he says, crawling on top of him so he can reach everywhere with ease, pushing Jaehyun’s legs apart to make room for his own, grabbing his impossibly small waist and leaning in to lave over his pulse point. “Fuck,” he mumbles into Jaehyun’s skin. His heart is pounding in his chest but he can hardly hear it for the roar of blood rushing in his ears. Jaehyun tangles his fingers in Mark’s hair, sighing, and Mark is almost dizzy with desperation, his kisses haphazardly placed as he makes his way down from Jaehyun’s neck, wet and messy. Without meaning to, he rolls his hips, mindlessly chasing some kind of friction to relieve the tension that’s coiled tight in his belly, and they both moan, Jaehyun arching up to meet him.
“Mark,” Jaehyun whispers, and there’s a sweet tint to it that sends a shock of hot pleasure through Mark’s whole body.
“Lube?” Mark asks, cutting straight to the point because it’s a miracle he’s fighting through the fog of his brain at all. “Condom?” There’s a part of him that doesn’t fucking care. He wants to take Jaehyun right now, raw, using a little spit to get him wet and work him open, fast and rough with his impatience. Honestly, the only thing stopping him is the fear of doing serious damage, but it’s enough to curb his impulses. He satisfies himself by biting a hickey into the soft muscle of Jaehyun’s chest. His hips are still twitching, short, aborted movement, rutting down against Jaehyun’s cock, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind.
“Bedside table, in the drawer,” Jaehyun replies, somehow calm, and it takes Mark a second to convince himself to peel away from him to get them. He finds them easily, the lube rolling forward when he yanks the drawer all the way open. Mark snatches it up, finding a condom in the back, and closes the drawer without looking, eyes already back on Jaehyun.
“Take your pants off,” Mark demands, setting the lube and condom down on the mattress so he can work on the button of his own jeans.
“You’re so eager.” Jaehyun’s tone is mild, but there’s an indulgent, teasing undercurrent to it. Still, he obeys, fingers finding his waistband as he looks Mark over, a fond warmth in his eyes. “You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
And oh, Mark likes that. He likes that a lot. Unfortunately, it has the exact opposite effect than Jaehyun probably intended; instead of being placated, Mark’s desire spikes impossibly higher. “Hyung,” he mumbles, kicking his jeans and underwear off and reaching for Jaehyun’s pants to help pull them away. He swallows roughly as Jaehyun’s cock springs free, hard and glistening at the tip. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he can already hear Johnny laughing at him, and Mark can’t even blame him. He never thought he’d beg a thirty-nine year old man to let him fuck him, but—well. In his defense, the forty-one-year-old in question is the most beautiful person on the planet, and has the prettiest cock Mark has ever seen. “Fuck, I—I know, but I need it. I need you. Please.”
Jaehyun just smiles at him, placid, shifting his legs wider. “I’m right here,” he says lightly, eyes earnest. “What are you waiting for?”
Mark doesn’t have an answer for that, so he pats around for the lube while he gets settled between Jaehyun’s legs. He fumbles with the cap, hands trembling with some mixture of adrenaline and desire as he squeezes a dollop out onto his index finger. He tosses the bottle aside and spreads some of the lube around Jaehyun’s rim before sinking his finger in. Jaehyun gasps quietly, tense at first, but relaxes quickly when Mark dips his head to press a few soft kisses to his hips and waist.
“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Jaehyun murmurs.
“I’ve had some practice,” Mark manages, pride bursting in his chest and making him feel dizzy. He keeps his movements gentle despite everything inside him screaming to hurry up, determined to make Jaehyun feel as good as possible. He kisses between Jaehyun’s ribs, then moves up to his chest, tonguing over a nipple when he gets close enough to reach to keep Jaehyun placated while he works his finger in and out.
Jaehyun fucking whimpers, one hand finding Mark’s hair. Mark swirls his tongue in a circle. If his mouth wasn’t busy he knows he wouldn’t be able to contain an absolute shit-eating grin. Jaehyun reacts to him so nicely. It’s kind of cute, and really hot. He’s glad Jaehyun has a house, not an apartment, glad he has a spacious backyard. Fewer neighbors to worry about. Mark wants him sobbing so loud the walls shake. He wants him ruined.
He finally pulls off when Jaehyun begins to squirm, shifting instead to his neck. He lays a row of kisses up the column of Jaehyun’s throat, letting Jaehyun stroke his hair and murmur praise, trying to pretend it has no effect on him.
“You’re so sensitive,” Mark whispers, scraping his teeth against the point of Jaehyun’s jaw.
“I don’t, ah, do this very often.” Mark pushes himself up so he can look at Jaehyun and sees that his ears are the same sweet pink as the blush coloring his cheeks.
“No?” Mark asks. “Then what were you doing on that app?”
Jaehyun flushes deeper pink. “You’re only the second person I’ve met that way. The first was… a while ago.”
A strange flare of jealousy shoots through Mark, hot and poisonous. He tries to shove it down. “Oh, sure,” he says instead, giving Jaehyun a sarcastic look.
“Besides, you were on it, too,” Jaehyun defends.
Mark smiles, leaning in to kiss him. The glide of his finger has grown easy, so he stops to accommodate a second, pushing back in slowly. Jaehyun sighs into his mouth, grip on his hair growing tighter until Mark’s in to the third knuckle and he relaxes back onto the pillows.
Mark breaks the kiss, mind racing as he makes what’s probably an ill-advised decision. “You wanna know why I was on there?” he asks. “Why I was really on there?”
“Not money?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly, curious.
Mark shakes his head. “I downloaded it because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I figured—it would be the easiest way to get something close.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen, and Mark laughs nervously, wondering if he miscalculated. “Guess I got super lucky.”
“Oh,” Jaehyun says softly, his hand sliding down from Mark’s hair to cup his cheek. “So you weren’t even looking for a sugar daddy.” He sounds sort of amused, but there’s a sweetness underneath it.
Mark shakes his head. “I was looking for you,” he says. It comes out a little bit like a plea. I know I’m not supposed to want you. I know it’s strange. But I do, I do.
“I shouldn’t say this,” Jaehyun says, “but that’s hot. You wanted me, baby?” It’s Mark’s turn to blush and squirm now; he nods almost shyly as heat rises up his neck, his cheeks. “No wonder you seem so desperate.”
The only thing that stops Mark from combusting out of embarrassment on the spot is how gentle Jaehyun’s voice is. That, and the way his breath hitches every time Mark thrusts his fingers in—which is what Mark chooses to focus on instead of trying to come up with a reply. He kisses Jaehyun sweetly, curling his fingers as he pulls them back out, and after a few tries he strikes gold. Jaehyun makes a high, broken noise against his lips, hips jerking up almost violently. Mark does it again, kissing him insistently even when Jaehyun goes a little limp. He trembles beneath Mark as he finds a rhythm, petting over Jaehyun’s prostate with every few strokes, dark glee making his head swim.
Jaehyun’s other arm had found its way around Mark’s torso, fingers splayed across the planes of his back. Mark melts into his touch, letting a soft noise of satisfaction slip out with his next exhale.
It comes naturally, somehow. Mark feels like he’s hardly paying attention to what he’s doing, more of his energy invested in kissing Jaehyun than fingering him. He finds himself adding a third finger with barely a thought, like he can just tell when Jaehyun’s ready. He thought he’d be more nervous, maybe, clumsy and unsure, but now that the uncertainty is past, now that he’s in Jaehyun’s bed, now that he knows Jaehyun definitely doesn’t just see him as some stupid kid, it’s easy.
Jaehyun lets him squeeze his pinky in alongside the rest without complaint, lets him lick the backs of his teeth, lets him grip his jaw tight and mean. His hand is still warm on Mark’s back, thumb tracing gentle circles into his skin. Mark’s whole body hums with something he hasn’t felt before and doesn’t quite have the words for. It’s like power, but softer. It’s like peace, but hungrier.
At last, Mark’s fingers glide in and out with ease, so he releases Jaehyun, breaking the kiss and pushing himself back up so he’s sitting on his knees.
“Am I ready?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly, smiling up at Mark.
“I hope so,” Mark replies.
“I’m not gonna break, baby,” Jaehyun says, gentle. “Promise.”
I might, Mark thinks dizzily as he works on the condom. But he just nods. “Okay.”
He rolls the condom on and slicks himself up, doggedly keeping his eyes on his own hands instead of looking at Jaehyun, not sure if he wants to see what Jaehyun looks like when he’s watching him. He walks forward on his knees; Jaehyun spreads his legs wider without Mark asking him too, lifting them up to make room for Mark’s thighs. Mark reaches down, hooking his thumb into Jaehyun’s entrance so he can line himself up.
He pushes in, getting his thumb out of the way in time, slowing down even more when he feels Jaehyun tense up around him. And, oh, the heat of Jaehyun’s body—Mark’s hand flies to Jaehyun’s waist, his fingers digging into the skin as he draws in a sharp breath.
“Mark?” Jaehyun’s voice, so soft, just barely audible over the blood rushing in Mark’s ears.
“Yeah,” Mark says hazily, too embarrassed to try and explain that the reason he froze is because he’s terrified he’s about to come, like, right now. “Just gimme a second.” He takes another breath, hoping and praying that he can hold it together at least a little while longer so that he doesn’t disappoint Jaehyun completely.
He starts moving again, sinking in slow. He’s pretty sure he’s going to leave bruises on Jaehyun’s hip, but Jaehyun hasn’t complained at all. Mark finally looks up, and sees Jaehyun looking back. His cheeks are that same pretty pink, his lips messy with spit from when they were kissing. Mark can see small bruises littering his chest. But Jaehyun’s eyes are clear.
“Feels good?” he asks in that same soft voice.
Mark nods quickly, letting out a short punch of defeated laughter. “Maybe a little too good,” he admits. “I—I’m kinda scared to move. I swear I’m not—usually like this.”
One corner of Jaehyun’s mouth tugs up, revealing a dimple. Not fair, not fair, Mark thinks, almost plaintive. He’s so pretty, and Mark is so fucked. “Take your time,” Jaehyun encourages.
Mark does, pushing in fractions of an inch at a time, closing his eyes in the hopes that this will stop him from getting overwhelmed. The process draws a string of truly embarrassing noises out of him anyway, but at this point it’s the least of his concerns. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind, though; he’s reached up to rub circles around the point of Mark’s hip bone, offering a little comfort. At last, Mark bottoms out and releases a long breath.
“Mm,” Jaehyun hums. “Feel so full. Could just stay like this a little, I don’t mind. I like it.”
But Mark shakes his head. “I wanna fuck you, hyung.”
Mark hears the sheets rustling; Jaehyun must have shrugged. “Okay,” he says easily. “Some other time, then.” Mark nods; he would like that, but he kind of feels like he has a job to do, and Jaehyun cockwarming him isn’t gonna cut it.
Jaehyun finally relaxes around him and the suffocating desire ebbs somewhat. Mark blinks his eyes open, drawing his hips back cautiously, watching Jaehyun’s face for signs of discomfort. His heart pounds in his chest, his ears. He can feel the jumping of his pulse in his fingertips. He shifts his weight forward, rolling his hips as he plants a hand on the mattress, lining his body up with Jaehyun’s and dipping his head to mouth at Jaehyun’s pretty neck.
Now that their bodies have adjusted a little, Mark gets bolder, picking up the pace and putting some force behind each thrust, savoring the drag of his cock against Jaehyun’s walls, the way the tip catches on Jaehyun’s rim when he pulls out a little too far. He grabs a fistful of the sheets, knuckles turning white, tense from the exertion.
“Mark, baby,” Jaehyun pants, taking Mark’s jaw in one hand and turning his face so he has no choice but to look him in the eyes. “A little slower,” he says. “Hurts.”
“Fuck, sorry, ‘m so sorry,” Mark mumbles, trying to rein in the jackrabbiting of his hips. “I didn’t—I just—you feel so good, I—”
“It’s okay,” Jaehyun says, and then fucking giggles, and Mark thinks he sees stars, pleasure spiking under his skin and making him shake. How is he so cute? he thinks to himself hazily as he works to find a new rhythm. He’s a middle aged man, and he’s the cutest person I’ve met, maybe ever.
Mark shifts his hips a little on the next thrust in and Jaehyun moans quiet and pretty, grip on Mark’s jaw tightening a little. “Better?” Mark whispers.
“Much better,” Jaehyun replies, almost indulgent. Another thrust; another moan. “Fuck, Mark.” He tips his head back, jaw slack. “Yeah, just like that.” He settles again, finding Mark’s eyes, stroking his thumb over the hollow of Mark’s cheek. “Just like that,” he repeats, quieter. “Good boy.”
“Oh, fuck,” Mark whimpers, screwing his eyes shut and trying not to lose control. “Fuck, hyung, hyung.” He always knew he liked praise—he gets off on making his partner feel good more than feeling good himself, he always has—but it feels different, coming from Jaehyun. He feels dizzy with pride, and almost sick with an anxiety to keep doing well. He feels Jaehyun tugging him closer and goes blindly. He’ll let Jaehyun have whatever he wants.
Jaehyun kisses him sweetly, making soft noises of pleasure, hand still cupping Mark’s cheek. Like he’s something precious. Like he’s something worth holding. Mark kind of wants to die here, because he can’t imagine being happier than this—buried deep in the hottest man on the planet, being kissed by him, being called good boy, baby. He doesn’t think anything has felt quite like this.
The late afternoon sun has found its way into Jaehyun’s bedroom; Mark can feel it on his back. When he pulls back and opens his eyes, Jaehyun’s skin is a pale gold, his eyes warm and full of light.
“So pretty, baby,” Jaehyun says, the syllables broken up by the hitching of his breath.
Mark leans into his touch, turning his head so he can press a kiss to the heel of his palm. “So’re you,” he says, almost slurring. “Can I—can I touch you? Wanna make you feel good.”
“Please,” Jaehyun says.
Mark drops down to one elbow to make it easier to balance, rounding his back to maintain enough room between their bodies that he can reach his other hand down and wrap it around Jaehyun’s cock. He can feel how wet he is, can imagine the precome smeared and glistening on his stomach. He uses some of it to get his palm slick, spreading it down the length of Jaehyun’s cock until each stroke makes a filthy sort of noise. Jaehyun moans shakily as Mark speeds up his hand to match the pace of his hips.
“Such a pretty cock, hyung,” Mark mumbles. “I want it in my mouth next time. I’ll—mm—make you feel so good, you can even fuck my face. I can hold my breath for a really long time, y-you’ll see.”
“Mark,” Jaehyun breathes, pitchy and unstable. “Fuck, yes, want that.”
Mark runs his thumb over Jaehyun’s slit, smiling to himself when it makes Jaehyun give a hoarse cry. “Yeah?” he manages. “You’ll let me?”
“Mmhm, yeah, yes,” Jaehyun stutters. “Oh, fuck, Mark, so good.”
Mark leans closer, pressing his lips to the junction of Jaehyun’s shoulder and his neck, lapping at the skin. He tastes faintly of salt from his sweat; it makes Mark’s head spin. “Close?”
“Yes, yes.” Jaehyun’s hips are twitching, half-thrusting up into Mark’s fist to meet him. “Don’t stop.”
“Good,” Mark whispers, a little relieved. His own arousal is looming at the fringes of his mind, almost an impending threat. He wants to make sure Jaehyun is taken care of before he lets go. He fights to keep the same pace even when all he wants to do is go harder, rougher. But this is what Jaehyun wants, and Mark will give it to him. He nips at Jaehyun’s skin with his front teeth, mostly to ground himself, but Jaehyun moans low and almost guttural. Mark feels something sticky shoot up and hit his stomach, feels it dribbling down his knuckles.
“Ah, ah, Mark, fuck.” Jaehyun’s voice fills the room as he clenches down on Mark’s cock, his chest heaving under Mark’s as another, weaker spurt of come drips down Mark’s hand.
“Jaehyun,” Mark murmurs. His thrusts are no longer even or measured, but it doesn’t matter because he’s coming, too, Jaehyun’s legs wrapped around his waist and Jaehyun’s hand in his hair and Jaehyun’s come coating his fingers and stomach.
They lie quietly as they catch their breath. Mark knows he should pull out and get something to clean them up, but everything seems so far away. His limbs are heavy, his body tired and sated.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun says softly. Mark hums in agreement, which makes Jaehyun huff out laughter. The movement jostles Mark, and he lifts his head.
“I think if I try to move, my body’s gonna fall apart,” he says, and this gets him a full-bellied laugh. “Stop laughing at me, ‘m serious!”
“We can stay here a little longer,” Jaehyun agrees. “But d’you think you can move up a little? So I can kiss you?”
“Oh,” Mark says, already pushing himself up. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”
They kiss lazily as the minutes tick by. Mark combs his fingers through Jaehyun’s soft hair with his clean hand. He can hardly feel the discomfort of the come drying on his body or the ache settling into his muscles. Jaehyun’s bed is comfortable and safe, the sun bright but not blinding, the air cool on Mark’s skin. In a way, Mark realizes that Johnny was kind of exactly right—Mark did need a good fuck. He’d been working nonstop since school let out at the beginning of the summer, and it’s only now that he realizes why he felt so tense. He’s glad it was with Jaehyun, though, a little giddy now that the post-orgasm glow has set in.
“Okay,” Jaehyun says finally. “Let’s get up.” Mark nods, reluctantly pushing himself up and off Jaehyun, pulling out as gently as he can and rolling to the side so Jaehyun can sit. “Do you still want to stay for dinner?”
“Of course I do,” Mark says.
Jaehyun smiles and Mark fights the urge to kiss him again. “Do you… want to stay the night?” Mark blinks. “You don’t have to,” Jaehyun adds quickly.
“No, I’d like that,” Mark says. “I’d really like that.”
Jaehyun’s pretty smile returns. “Good,” he says, half to himself. “Come on, let’s clean ourselves up and then order some food.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands; Mark follows him, coming around the foot of the bed as Jaehyun meanders over to the door Mark figured led to a bathroom.
“Jaehyun,” Mark says, reaching out to him.
Jaehyun stops, turning back to look at him, taking the offered hand. “Hm?”
Mark pulls him close and kisses him, a little clumsy, but Jaehyun just giggles again, kissing him back. “I’m glad it was you,” Mark says when they break apart. “On the app. Today.”
“Oh,” Jaehyun says. His cheeks grow rosy again, but he’s smiling. “Me, too. I’m glad it was you, too.”
#works#nct#mark#jaehyun#jaemark#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#nct smut#mark lee#mark lee fanfic#mark lee fanfiction#mark lee smut#jaehyun fanfic#jaehyun fanfiction#jaehyun smut#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jung jaehyun fanfic#nct mark#nct mark fanfic#nct mark fanfiction#nct mark smut#nct jaehyun#nct jaehyun fanfic#nct jaehyun fanfiction#nct jaehyun smut#jaehyun x mark#mark x jaehyun#jaehyun/mark#mark/jaehyun
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Bully Kiri the exact same as you write him one day snaps he pins you against a locker while you two were alone in the hall as kiss up your jaw gently "Listen to me baby you gonna tell me how much you love me then I'm gonna take you home tonight then let your body do the talking while I put a pretty baby in your body make you my little house spouse"
That night despite any fight he takes you home and lays you on your bed hand right on your jaw "Tell me you love me" if you don't he'll shake your head "Is that your brain rattling around in their you must be stupid to deny it tell me you love me" when you finally stutter it out he smirks kissing you "That's a good baby" He absolutely ravishes you for hours.
A few weeks later you now attached to his arm like the good baby you are cause he said so and your not stupid enough to against him you run away to the bathroom dropping to your knees throwing up he grab your hair out of the way rubbing your back "awe baby let it all out maybe that's my baby in you telling you their here" a whimper falling from your lips as he kisses you "Don't worry tonight I'll make sure it is" he kisses your head and drags you out if the bathroom
Heavy dub-con warning
So for context look here
God I love how even when he’s attempting to get you to comply he still manages to be him about it.
Is he pressuring you? Yes but only because he knows you want this, you’re just too stubborn for you’re own good. That’s why he has to do all this, you need to understand that no matter how hard you push he won’t budge.
He had tried to be patient and what until you say all the things he did for you with so much love in his heart, but he just couldn’t take it and little stolen touches just wasn’t enough. He needed you and even if you didn’t want to admit it he could tell you’d be lost without him too. He had to speed it up, had to get you to understand your place at his side somehow.
Giving you a baby sounded like the perfect way to get the job done. He stewed on it a while before he decides that on going through with it, maybe he heard a rumor that scared him. Maybe something about someone else planning on snatching you away from him and he just can’t let that happen.
So he keeps an eye on you, gets someone to deliver a secret admirer’s love letter requesting you to meet in that hall and when you get there expecting to let someone down gently you’re pushed up against the lockers. A hand on your waist and his leg wedged between yours while he’s telling you exactly what he’s planning on happening between kisses. You hate it has a strong affect on you, that you really do want him. That somewhere along the lines everything got all twisted and you really did fall for him.
You were determined to ignore it and avoid him though but he was ahead of you. Already waiting with that big toothy smile of his and cooing at you when you look so shocked. Tells you of course he knew you go this way, knows his pretty baby better than anyone else and you should know that!
I’m in love with the idea that while he’s trying to get his confession he switches between overstimulating you and edging you so you have no idea what he’s doing. Came twice? Maybe you deserve another, on second thought no you don’t. Hmm maybe you get to cum now? Nope, oh ok you can cum and here’s another and another and that’s it. Maybe just say it and he’ll let you cum a couple of times on his cock instead? Just say you love him that’s all you gotta do.
And of course you eventually snap and say it after he questions if you got a functioning brain because you don’t use it if your being so stupidly stubborn. He doesn’t waste time either, your legs are pushed up into a mating press and as soon as he’s completely settled in your overly sensitive pussy, your already babbling and cumming from the overwhelming size of him pressing into every spot just right.
He’s so smug that all he gets out of you is his name and little I love you’s
Even more so when you finally accept you belong at his side and that you very well may be pregnant. So excited by the notion that he just has to double check and reconfirm his handy work.
#nat chats#bnha kirishima#mha kirishima#dubious consent#tw bullying#tw toxic relationship#bully kirishima#blaize hewwo
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I’ve seen people in the TDP tags wondering about the mechanics/practicality of Claudia preserving her dad’s dead body for two whole years (while meeting and dating a remarkably open-minded elf boy, no less), and y’all, let’s just be Doylists for a second. This is a retcon.
I’ve suspected for a while that the “Phase 2” production cycle took an unusually long time** not just because of pandemic complications, but mostly because the franchise went through some major restructuring post-s3, and this awkward retcon supports my suspicions on that front. If it’d been planned this way from the start, Claudia wouldn’t have the exact same character model as before down to her hair length/style, nor would it include a slew of visual cues screaming “A Few Days After The Spire Battle!” for a very young audience to pick up on. Claudia’s specific mention of Aaravos spinning his cocoon “two days ago” is also in keeping with TDP’s many (arguably ill-conceived) Biblical references, implying that Viren was dead for two days and resurrected on the third.
Now, why was this scene retconned when Viren’s quick resurrection and the two-year timeskip could totally coexist? There could be some plot mechanics reasons, but I have a feeling that they mostly wanted an excuse to 1. establish Claudia and Terry’s relationship offscreen, without Viren around to complicate things, and 2. not totally overhaul Claudia and Viren’s character models. Claudia’s going to have a cute braid later, sure, but that’s small potatoes compared with having to remodel the protagonist trio entirely. It’s also very convenient to keep Viren in his plain white robe as long as possible. Wonderstorm doesn’t have an infinite budget, so as appealing as it is to do a soft reboot timeskip, they’re probably compelled to cut corners wherever they can.
These new s4 clips bode much better for the rest of the series than I expected, so I’m really not saying all this to be a Negative Nancy. I just think that, before discussing the Watsonian mechanics of this retcon, we ought to acknowledge that the creators probably aren’t secret geniuses who planned all along to confuse the nine-year-olds in the audience by only ~pretending~ to set the last scene of season 3 a couple days after the final battle. Sometimes you just need to clumsily retcon stuff in order to do a soft reboot on your sprawling multimedia franchise that may or may not have gone into production with an incomplete/overly malleable series bible, and maybe that’s okay. Or maybe it’s not okay and the creators have no idea what they’re doing, idk. Time will tell.
**Since I’ve seen pushback on this before: based on their end-of-year update from Dec 2021, I know the creators would have fans believe that it’s ~very unusual~ to “work on multiple seasons simultaneously,” and that this is why Phase 2/seasons 4-6 took so long. Respectfully, this is bullshit; TDP may release content in many short “seasons” in the vein of Netflix shows like VLD, but like VLD and most long animated series, the production cycle of about 25-27 episodes remains the same. I don’t have a problem with them taking a pretty long time (like 2.5+ years??) to finish 27 episodes, but I wish they were more honest about why the delay happened. Big, complex “waterfall”-style production cycles with a quick turnaround are the norm in animation and it’s unfair to other studios to pretend their own process is exceptionally intricate.
#Kumari comments#The Dragon Prince#TDP#The Dragon Prince: Mystery of Aaravos#Claudia#Viren#Terrestrius#anyway. Terry is cute#is their ship name gonna be Clerry or what
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bullied trans masc s/o hcs ; hunter
requested by ; anonymous (16/02/23)
fandom(s) ; the owl house
fandom masterlist(s) ; main | hunter only
character(s) ; hunter wittebane
outline ; “hi! I was wondering if I could get headcanons for Hunter, with a transmasc s/o?
Specifically one who’s struggling with bullying in Hexside after coming out. (this could honestly verge into protective Hunter very quickly, so if it’s too similar to any of your other requests I totally understand!)”
warning(s) ; bullying, transphobia, hurt and lots of comfort
note ; changed the school to an unnamed high school in a different area as even the bullies at hexside are shown to be accepting
the two of you had been a thing before you publicly came out, back when you were still keeping your transition private to anyone beyond your immediate circle
and he was so very proud of you when you made the decision to start socially transitioning at your school — getting you a cake to celebrate and going with you when you went to the dean and asked them to correct your information records to reflect your identity as it is now
the staff were accepting and everyone seemed to be fine with it — until hunter left for the day
that was when the bullying started
the moment the revered golden guard was out of sight they descended on you like a pack of starved wolves eager for a feast
snidely picking apart everything about you in writing and in whispers too quiet for the teachers to catch
throwing around the words ‘girl’ and ‘feminine’ like knives, each one sharpened to perfection and aimed just so — slicing through your well placed barriers and tearing your confidence and euphoria to shreds
ribbons of assuredness falling to the floor like blood soaked snow, leaving no room for warmth and reprieve even as the last bell rang and you were dismissed for the day
by the time you’d gotten home you were a wreck: cheeks and uniform stained with tears, quivering bitten lips, red eyes and trembling limbs that felt more like jelly or mulch than bone
you wanted nothing more than to disappear or go back in time and keep your identity a secret
and then hunter showed up, cheery and optimistic with a gift in hand, eager to ask you about your day
then he saw you and stopped and took of his mask
and you ran into his arms and just broke down, him cradling you close to his chest whilst he shushes and kisses and comforts you as best he can
‘babe, what’s wrong? do you want to talk about it?’
‘i’m here now, it’s okay,’
‘let it all out, it’s okay,’
‘i’m not going anywhere, take all the time you need,’
he holds you like that until your sobs have subsided enough for you to explain what happened — what you were told and how you were treated
and hunter is absolutely horrified and infuriated
comforting you and assuring you whilst planning exactly what’s going to happen to those students — bigotry is unheard of in the isles and he wants to stamp it out before it takes root
but, for now, he focuses on you
‘what a load of crap, you’re not a girl babe,’
‘you’re my boyfriend — which, y’know, means the exact opposite of whatever they were spinning,’
‘those guys are a bunch of bullies, don’t take their lies to heart — they don’t know the first thing about you,’
‘definitely jealous because of how handsome you are,’
‘their heads are so far up their own asses that all they can do is talk shit,’
spitting venom towards those that hurt you disguised as scathing remarks whilst he showered you in affection
doing everything he could do make sure that you know that you’re loved, that you’re who you are and that those bullies don’t know the first thing about you
that you’re his geeky adorable boyfriend and it’s his job to look after you — and maybe break a few noses (he is due to go there for a coven expo and he’d be able to pass off those injuries as training)
he’ll protect you for as long as you’ll let him and he’ll be damned before he lets anyone treat you so poorly
and he won’t, not after this
#sleepingdeath#trans masc reader#hurt/comfort hcs#hurt/comfort#hurt and comfort#toh fluff#toh x reader#the owl house fluff#fluff hcs#fluff#the owl house x reader#toh hunter x reader#hunter toh x reader#hunter wittebane x reader
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love at first check: a tale (pt. four)
I | II | III
Oh, look, an update! I hope you enjoy! :)
To say Alice lost her mind when I told her what had happened would be an understatement. A more exact description would be that she was temporarily braindead for nearly a minute before spurring herself back to life, spitting out the beer she had been drinking for good measure.
“When you said, ‘we need an emergency meeting’, I thought it was because you saw someone get murdered someone or something, not to tell me that apparently your chess friend or whatever is actually one of the hottest players in the fucking NFL. This is—is—absolutely fucking insane!” Alice paces along the floor of my studio apartment, muttering more expletives to herself than me at this point.
“Well, would you rather I did see a murder?” I respond, taking a sip from my own beverage at my desk, still looking over the tabs of ‘intelligence gathering’ Alice and I have now opened on my laptop in order to gain more information on what on earth I have just gotten myself into.
Alice snaps out of her state and frowns at me. “Obviously not. But at least that would just involve a police report and not, you know, planning five months in advance to meet an incredibly famous person and his equally famous teammates. I’m not even you, and this is infinitely more stressful!” She flops down into the seat next to mine and rubs her face with her hands. She narrows her eyes at me before taking a sip of her beer and says, “Honestly, you should be much more freaked out about this than I am.” I only roll my eyes in response and look at my screen, making sure to memorize the facts and figures of the Bengals roster.
“I already did the hand waving freak out before you got here, thank you very much.”
“Good, so that means we can focus on the important stuff: not looking like an idiot.” Alice points at the roster on the website. “Can’t show up as his date and be a complete dumbass who doesn’t know anything about sports-ball or what his favorite color is—what is Joe’s favorite color, by the way?” She turns, her finger now pointing towards me with a mischievous grin on her face.
“Blue,” I respond at once, which makes Alice’s grin even wider. “Oh, come on! It’s not a date. He would have said so if it was!”
Alice, not impressed with my protest, continues. “Pretty sure it is, Caoimhe. Guys don’t just ask to ‘meet up’ without a reason, especially if he’s never met you before. Don’t be surprised if he asks you to come up to his hotel for some strip chess.” Alice gives a good impression of a leer, waggling her eyebrows up and down.
I glower and take a long swig from my beer while I process Alice’s statement. While glib, she does have a point. All things being equal, if she had told me she was in the exact situation I’m in, of course I would make the same assumption. Of course I’d tell her that Joe—or whomever—is likely looking to get some action. Even so, I can’t help but be bothered by this conjecture. I shake my head in disagreement. “I don’t think that’s in the cards but thank you for the encouragement.”
“Whatever you say, Caoimhe, but keep a condom or two on you just in case—how big do you think he is?”
Alice was about to say more, but a swift face full of pretzels shut her up.
________________________________________________________________________________
Strangely enough, the following chess meetups between Joe and I become more relaxed than our earlier sessions. If anything, he was more jovial, if it’s even possible. I suppose when one reveals one’s not-so-secret-and-actually-pretty-cool identity, there’s nowhere to go but up in one’s interpersonal relationships. Conversations turned more towards our own mundane activities. Joe regaled upon his surprisingly complex routine: meals, practice, exercises, and tactics preparations that were more akin to a Pentagon wargame than what I imagined a football match even needed. Naturally, this included the schedule for future games in the upcoming season—and one game in particular kept creeping into our conversations.
“Joe, stop worrying about the Ravens! You’ll beat them like you did last year, and the year before, and the year before that...” I honestly want to throttle the man out of this obsession. “Honestly, you probably need to focus more on improving your ELO than those guys—your streak has gone to shit!”
Joe shrugs at the screen and chuckles. “Some of us have just have a bad one, Caoimhe,” he tries to assure me, but the distracted look in his eyes does little to convince me otherwise.
“Well, you’d better shape up before you come out here—I don’t want to beat you in under ten moves,” I tease. Joe’s eyes widen at my remark, and a smile slowly appears on his face.
“Well, now that you’ve reminded me, I guess I do need to up my game if I’ll be in the presence of a chess goddess,” Joe chuckles. “Speaking of,” he continues, “know any good chess spots in Baltimore?”
“I know the perfect place,” I smile, “but you’ll have to try to be a bit inconspicuous, considering it’s in broad daylight and all. No Cartier glasses!” I wag a finger at him, and Joe only rolls his eyes. “Seriously though, you might get hustled right of your clothes if you’re not careful!”
“Wandering around nude in Baltimore doesn’t sound pleasant,” Joe concedes with a chuckle, but I feel the heat rise in my face at the mention of such a thing. Between Alice’s needling and my own anxieties, I’ve done my best to not ruminate any further on any sort of hanky-panky between us. Joe’s comment isn’t helping with that.
I cough and try not to sputter the rest of my tea onto my monitor. “Yeah, it would be,” I mumble, looking into my cup to hide my redness. If I get upset this easily now, how on earth am I going to deal with this later?
Before I can ponder this any longer, Joe and I are interrupted by his phone alarm going off, signaling his need to sign off and go on one of his many exercise regimens.
“Well, looks like we’ll have to talk about wandering around Baltimore in various stages of undress later,” I joke (or am I?).
“Oh, definitely,” Joe winks, and if he didn’t log right after I’m pretty sure I would have been petrified into silence. I definitely need to get sorted out before we meet in meat-space. I’m not the goddess of chess for nothing.
#joe burrow#fanfic#fanfiction#Chess#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow fic#joe burrow x reader#no betas we die like men
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