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waynes-multiverse · 4 days

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Plastic Hearts – Part 25

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, a tinge of angst, FLUFF

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: I'm not sad... 🥲 Honestly, I don't have words beyond gratitude and cliché goodbyes, so let's end this journey together 🤍

<< 24 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

25. Dare

“Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced everyone to come out here,” Jo groans and raises her flat palm to her brows, shielding her eyes from the scalding desert sun. “What the fuck is wrong with Palm Springs, huh?”

“C’mon, we’ve always wanted to go to Joshua Tree together since we moved to LA. This is like the perfect time,” Y/N argues cheerfully and nudges her friend with her elbow. “Look! It’s so peaceful.”

“There’s a dead carcass over there. Looks like a symbol of my marriage,” Jo deadpans.

Y/N purses her lips before compelling another positive smile to her face. “We can get rid of that. The girls really needed this after the whole Crowley debacle.”

The group left straight after the network meeting in Dean’s office this morning, which didn’t go as planned, to say the least. While several executives were surely interested, Crowley and H-ELLTV put an abrupt end to it. Apparently, they sold their fucking souls by signing a contract with the devil. Crowley’s words still rang in her ears on repeat.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but H-ELLTV owns your characters, which means you can’t sell them to another network. You all signed a contract and made a deal. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, fucking asshole…” Jo huffs her agreement but then throws her friend a suspicious sideways look. “What’s up with you, though? Why are you so chipper and cheerful like a fucking Disney princess? I thought you of all people would be fucking depressed and devastated about the stupid show ending.”

Y/N shrugs. “I am. I’m just trying to make the best of our last weekend together. Can’t I be happy?”

“Fuck no.” Jo shakes her head. “Something’s up with you. Usually, when you’re like this, it’s overcompensation ‘cause you’ve fucked something up. If I were still married, I’d think you’ve fucked my husband all over again. So, what did you do?”

Y/N shrugs once more and keeps her eyes trained on the sprawling desert landscape in front of her. “Nothing.”

“Dean also was a bigger asshole than usual this morning. So, I’m asking again, what shit did you fuck up now?”

“Nothing, okay? Dean’s always an asshole,” Y/N deflects defensively. Although, even she has to admit – those were some spectacularly icy green eyes this morning. Not that he ever looked directly at her or spoke with her even once. She probably would’ve turned to stone if he did.

“Fine, don’t tell. God knows I don’t fucking care,” Jo says indifferently and joins the other women as they set up their tents on the campground.

Y/N lets out a small sigh as she stares at the bluest sky she’s ever seen while the hot desert sun beams down on her. She watches the girls for a while, her heart slightly cracking at the thought this might be the last time they all hang out together. This year has been the best one she’s ever had.

But then, her heart stings even more when she thinks about the one person who isn’t here, wondering what he’s doing right now. If anything, she owes it all to him.

Dean nurses his beer with a sigh, his green eyes barely paying attention to the half-naked girl who’s winding herself up and down a silver pole in front of him. This used to bring him joy – day-drinking at a strip club and watching tits bounce. But now all he thinks about is how that girl looks nothing like Y/N. None of them do.

“Hey, son. Startin’ early today,” Bobby notes with a chuckle as he sits down next to him.

“Yeah, they canceled the show.” And while that’s certainly true, it’s not the reason why Dean’s sulking at a titty bar.

“Too damn bad. I loved the show!” Bobby tells him enthusiastically. “It was insane. Good insane. It had everything – comedy, drama, heartache, tits, violence, a fucking wedding? There’s something for everyone there.”

“Well, uh, thanks, Bobby. Really appreciate it,” Dean tells him politely. He likes the guy, but he’s not in the mood for chitchat. He’s barely in the mood for naked women, for crying out loud. This is a deep fucking depression.

There are only two promises he’s made to himself: One, he won’t slump like he did after his last divorce. There will be no excessive drinking, which leads to excessively pathetic crying, which leads to a myriad of bad choices out of sheer desperation. Remember that awful dating videotape he made? Yes, there will be no more of that. And then there’s of course two, no drugs – no matter how much he tells himself he wants or fucking needs them. A tiny dot of hope seems to be still dormant in his plastic heart, reminding him that she might come back, and he doesn’t want to risk disappointing her once she does.

Dean has worked fucking hard to be the best version he can be – a version she doesn’t seem to give a shit about. But even he has to admit: He likes himself a lot better now, so he refuses to turn back to old comforts, albeit it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

“You guys interested in doing a floor show?”

Bobby’s words pull him from his reverie. Dean arches a brow at him, straightening a bit in his seat. “What? Here?”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “No, idjit. My wife Ellen has some stakes in a club on the Vegas Strip. She manages the hotel there, too. They’re looking for a new headliner. Just do the exact same show, night after night, 300 miles east. Vegas is where the money is. Headliners make at least 25 grand a week. You think that gym is big? We have to fill 1,100 seats.”

Dean stumps and blinks at the old man a bit baffled. “Well, uh… I’ll think about it. Talk to my partner, the girls…”

Bobby smiles and pats his shoulder as he gets up. “You do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Now, how about a lap dance? On the house. Can pick any girl that fancies your heartache. You ain’t foolin’ an old man like me.”

Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks. Think I’m gonna head home and drink myself into a coma there.”

“It’s getting dark soon. How much longer?” Jo’s brown eyes dart to Y/N as she drags her feet over a rocky path. The sun stings less than it did when they started their little hike, but her skin feels perfectly tanned by now and the water is running low.

“Uh, I think it’s supposed to be just up ahead that hill,” Y/N muses and swirls her head around the formation of rocks that all look the same, squinting her eyes into the distance.

Jo sighs, and her stare intensifies. “You’ve been saying that for over an hour. Are we lost?”

“Noooo…” Y/N doesn’t sound convincing and surely doesn’t fool Jo with her reply.

“Alright, gimme the map.”

“I don’t have the map. I gave it to Meg.”

Jo groans and rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“What? Meg’s the trail leader. Trail leader gets the map,” Y/N defends her faux pas with reason.

“Great! So we’re fucking lost in the desert,” the blonde huffs.

Y/N chuckles lightly, mostly out of uncomfortableness and panic she tries to hide behind it. “No, there’s a trail marker right over there,” she says, pointing to a pile of rocks. “That looks manmade.”

Jo quirks her brow. “You mean like that pile of rocks? Or that one over there?”

Y/N follows her friend’s gaze, only to realize that there are lots of piles of rock that all look too fucking similar. She purses her lips and scratches her head before resting her arms on her squared-off hips. “I think we’re lost.”

“Yeah.” With an exhaustive sigh, Jo plops down on another pile of rocks and watches as the orange sun dips behind the horizon, shadows of blue slowly crawling across the desert floor and swallowing the light.

Y/N clumsily lowers herself down next to the blonde. Her leg hurts like a bitch, and the desert sand that has wound its way into her cast itches a good deal. Her hands and arms hurt as well from clinging to her crutches all afternoon. Maybe Dean was right, and this was a bad idea, after all. Why does he always have to be fucking right about everything? How can one person be so annoying and frustrating all at once?

“Well, you finally get your wish,” Jo deadpans. “We’re gonna die together.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says ruefully and looks at the first stars appearing in the night sky. “Maybe the stars will guide us home.”

Jo just looks at her, unamused and unsurprised. “You’ve never been camping, have you?”

Y/N twitches her shoulders apologetically. “It was only supposed to be a three-mile moderate beginner’s trail to a beautiful vista. It’s what the guidebook said.”

Jo shakes her head and blows a raspberry, hugging her knees. “Joanna Wesson, 27, found dead near a random cluster of rocks that might have looked like a trail marker. She was best known for playing Beth Crowne on the soap opera Paradise Bay before trying to revive her career on an unsuccessful wrestling show. She is survived by her son, Sammy, and her bitter ex-husband Sam with his secretary Jessica.”

“Well, at least you get an obituary,” Y/N quips. “Mine would just read: Soap Star Found Dead Next to Unidentified Woman in National Park.”

Jo even snorts at that. “Well, I’m sure Dean would cut and edit an adorable video tribute with a bunch of B-roll about you at your funeral.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Y/N pensively licks her lips, her heart doing those painful twinges again whenever she thinks of him. “You know yet what you’re gonna do next?”

“No, I-… I think I wanna produce,” Jo announces with determination in her hazel eyes. “I don’t wanna ask permission. I’m so tired of it all. For once, I wanna boss people around and tell ‘em what to do. You know, you were right.”

Baffled, Y/N raises a brow. “About what?”

“Men,” Jo says simply and then spits with fire, “I fucking hate them all. The Crowleys and the Dicks and the Cases and the Sams and the Deans… They make the choices. They dictate the terms… I’m sick of it all. I just hate asking them for anything.”

“Dean’s not so bad,” Y/N says quietly but doesn’t look at Jo. Her heart stings for the millionth time. “I got that role for the Sondheim musical. They called this morning.”

Jo’s lips curve into a soft smile that reaches her eyes. “Congrats. I’m not surprised. You were really fucking good.”

Y/N’s heart flutters a little at the compliment. Tears begin to sting her eyes. She can’t remember the last time Jo was nice to her. “Thank you.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Jo notes attentively.

“No, I am,” Y/N manages to choke out, but the sniffling betrays her intentions.

“But?”

Y/N bobs her head, swallowing. “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”

“Fucking finally,” Jo huffs and rubs her cold and goosebump-littered arms as the heat disappears, the nightly air bringing a fresh breeze.

“Dean told me he loves me,” Y/N confesses. “He’s in love with me.”

“Yeah, no shit. Kinda obvious,” Jo says without a twitch of surprise. “Don’t feel bad for not loving him back. That’s what they want… For us to feel bad about every single fucking thing.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think that’s how I feel,” Y/N replies and lets out a jittery sigh.

Jo’s head turns to her, eyeing her friend up and down. “And how do we feel about that? I can’t tell. It’s too dark to see your face.”

“I-, uh, I don’t exactly know,” Y/N says, which is partially true. She might know how she feels about the green-eyed director, but not how she feels about the situation overall.

Jo purses her lips and nods. “Alright, here’s a couple of options: happy, excited, scared, or… repulsed?”

“Well, uhm… scared,” Y/N admits slowly and gulps. “And excited… happy.”

Jo throws her arms up, shaking her head at the stars. “Jesus fuck! Then what the fuck are we doing here?! Is that why you dragged me all the way to the fucking desert? Because you’re running from your feelings?”

“Kinda. I thought the peaceful quiet and beautiful nature would bring me some much-needed clarity,” Y/N explains.

Jo lifts a brow but tries not to seem too annoyed. She’s accustomed to her friend’s theatrics, after all. “And? Did it?”

“The hike didn’t, but facing death kinda does,” Y/N jokes and begins to laugh a little, Jo soon joining her. When their laughter dies down and the desert sounds of chirping crickets and screeching eagles remain, Y/N exhales a shaky breath. “I’m in love with him, too. He makes me really fucking happy. But… I finally feel like I’m on the right track with my career. I am where I’m supposed to be, you know? I don’t wanna throw that away for a guy.”

“Who says you should?”

“I don’t know… Isn’t that how it goes? You did it,” Y/N argues.

Jo licks her lips and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, ‘cause I chose the wrong fucking guy. Sam made me give up everything I ever loved and told me what to love instead. If you pick the right guy, he won’t make you do that.”

“How do I know it’s the right guy, though?”

Jo smiles softly. “Look, I’m not Dean’s biggest fan, but he’s yours. You know that, right? He’d never hold you back. He adores the ground you walk on. Yes, he’s an asshole with so many fucking issues, and he’s goddamn annoying most of the time, but he’s always had your back, even when he pretended that he didn’t. The guy would probably sell every limb and his fucking soul to see you get everything you ever wanted, Y/N. He wouldn’t be a mistake. You know what would be a mistake? Not trying because you’re too scared of making one. Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Thoughtfully, Y/N nods in agreement and grabs her crutches, rising from her rocky seat. “I need to see him. We have to head back to the city.”

“Finally! Thank fucking God.” With a grunt, Jo jumps to her feet and helps Y/N to steady hers. “Maybe the girls made a fire bright enough, so we can find our way back.”

“Shit.”

“What? They have matches, don’t they? I’m sure these bitches can manage a simple fire, right?” Jo then notices Y/N’s hand curling around her bicep, her grip tightening. And then, Jo glances in the direction of Y/N’s eyes and sees the same damn thing. Her brown eyes widen.

“Mountain lion.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” the blonde hisses and holds on to her friend as well. Both women freeze on the spot. “What-, uh, what should we do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should throw a stick?”

“A stick?” Jo arches her brow. The big cat snarls and stalks a little closer, making the two women jump back. Their hearts are thumping in their throats at this point. “It’s not a fucking dog, Y/N. It won’t play fetch with you.”

“I know that. How about you come up with a better idea, then?” Y/N snaps through gritted teeth. The lion hisses again, causing the women to tremble down to their bones and hug each other tighter. “I think I should jump it.”

“Are you nuts? No!”

“Look, while it eats me, you can flee. I can’t run with my cast anyways. This is the best option,” Y/N insists, but Jo vehemently shakes her head.

“Fuck no! You’re not sacrificing yourself. We die together. You’re not leaving me behind,” Jo maintains. “I always knew my death would be your fault. Don’t ask me how, but I knew you’d get me killed somehow.”

The wild cat takes another step forward and lowers to the ground as if to get ready to jump its prey – them. But then a few tumbling rocks and breaking twigs draw its attention behind the women. Is there an even bigger cat here?

And suddenly, Meg leaps forward from above them with a loud howl and snarls at the cat, which hastily tucks its tail between its legs and flees down the hill into the dark night. Y/N and Jo expel a big breath of relief and a shaky laugh as they find Meg.

“Meg, what the fuck? Did you just scare away a mountain lion?” Y/N gapes at her friend in utter disbelief.

Meg only shrugs her shoulders. “I hate cats. What are you guys doing out here so long?”

“We got lost. Couldn’t find our way back to camp,” Y/N explains.

Meg furrows her brow and thumbs behind her. “It’s just over there. You guys have been hiking around the same hill for five hours.”

Jo shoots Y/N a small glare of annoyance and blows some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. “Of course we did…” she mutters.

“We have to get back to LA!” Y/N declares eagerly, trying to climb the small rocky hill with her crutches, foregoing the more suitable pathway.

“Right now? It’s probably 3am when we get to Burbank. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Jo says as she attempts to climb after her friend.

“No! I almost died! Twice… Dean needs to know how I feel before I get bit by a rattlesnake, too,” Y/N reiterates passionately.

“It’s probably for the best,” Meg chimes in. “We kinda forgot to pack food. I was about to hunt something for us when I ran into you guys. We have tons of drugs and booze, though.”

Y/N’s knuckles thunder persistently on Dean’s door and conjure up a storm. She has jumped out of Ruby’s limo so fast, the girls are still scrambling out and flooding Dean’s front lawn one by one. They’re loud and obnoxious, but the ringing in her ears makes their chatter barely noticeable.

The lock clicks and the door opens. Dean stands in front of her with weary green eyes, heavy with sleep, tousled bed-head, and a furiously scrunched brow. He half yawns and half grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once he feels clearer, minus the soft buzz of whiskey remnants in his bloodstream, he blinks at the young actress in front of him and then tilts his head at the circus show behind her.

God, between his punk rock daughter and this, his neighbors must really hate him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be camping in fucking Joshua Tree?” His voice is a gravelly bark. He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, especially when he just woke from a dream about her, but he’s not as masochistic as he used to be. He’s not a fan of torturing himself with the image of her any longer.

Y/N’s heart somersaults as soon as she sees him, even though his apprehension hurts a bit. “Look, I almost died tonight. We got lost in the desert and then a mountain lion almost fucking ate us.”

Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not fucking surprised. Told you Palm Springs is the better option. So, did anyone fucking die? What’s the head count?”

“No one died.”

“Huh. Then why the fuck are you here in the middle of the night, Y/N?” Dean bites, his brow creasing in anger. He can’t even fucking look at her for a second without his heart being on the brink of an explosion. Even saying her goddamn name hurts like needle pricks in an abused vein.

“I–” Y/N swallows thickly. Her drumming heart is stuck in her airway along with her words.

“She’s here to tell you she loves you!” Ruby hollers behind her before several girls tackle her and clasp her mouth shut.

Dean’s heart twists upon the sick joke, his frown deepening. But then he glances at Y/N and thinks he can spot the truth in her eyes. He thought that once before, though, and was terribly wrong.

Y/N gives a shrug of one shoulder with tears brimming in her eyes. A small smile forms on her lips. “What she said.”

Dean nods and drags a hand over his freckled face, feeling the tears well in his eyes, too. Fucking whiskey. Always renders him goddamn sentimental. “Look, uhm, you kinda gotta tell me this yourself. Otherwise, I won’t believe it, okay?”

Upon his request, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks him into his eyes. “I’m in fucking love with you.” As soon as the words are out, she starts crying and the tears fall down her cheeks. Meanwhile, Dean’s heart tumbles into free fall, and he’s sure not even a parachute can stop it. “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. Is-, is it too late?”

Dean snorts and shakes his head, grinning brighter than the California sun on the longest day of the year. “Fuck no. Even if it had taken you thirty years, I still would’ve taken you back. That’s kinda how once-in-a-lifetime love works, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Sounds like a good movie,” Y/N jokes between her tears, her fingers tingling to touch him.

“Yeah, best one there is.”

His hands grab hold of her and pull her into his embrace. He claims her lips, Y/N eagerly parting her mouth as his tongue slips between. The kiss is rushed and fervent and perfectly desperate. They’re both so gone they can’t even hear the girls cheering and applauding them in the background.

“You’re gonna come inside?” Dean asks in a murmur against her lips, barely letting her breath.

“Uhm…”

“Hey, Lothario, you got space for us, too?” Cassie shouts with a wide smirk.

“Yeah, we’re fucking starving,” Ruby adds with an impatiently arched brow.

“We, uh, forgot to pack food,” Y/N explains with a chuckle.

Dean sighs and smiles knowingly. “Of course you did.” He then turns to the women waiting on his lawn. “Alright, get in. I’ll order some pizzas.”

The women then proceed to brush past the couple and filter into Dean’s house. Missouri pinches his cheeks, Ruby pats his head, Cassie fist-bumps him and sends Y/N a flirty wink, Meg tousles his hair, Charlie shrugs apologetically, and Jo offers an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m never gonna get rid of them, am I?” Dean looks down at her and tightens his jaw, even when a grin is visible.

“No, I’m afraid not. It’s like you’ve adopted twelve strays. One of which actually turned out to be your long-lost puppy. They’re gonna be here until you die and then eat your corpse,” Y/N quips.

“Funny.” Dean clicks his tongue, his dimples itching to form a grin.

“Oooo! Let’s call the guys!” he hears Ruby exclaim from inside his living room. “It’s a fucking wrap party at the boss’ house!”

“No! No party! Guys, c’mon!” Dean storms inside after them, leaving Y/N giggling on his doorstep.

“Let’s call Garth, Kevin, and Benny!” Donna suggests, ignoring his protests. It’s like they can’t fucking hear him.

“I’ll call my husband, too!” Bela adds and eagerly dials Cas’ number on his landline.

“Oh, right, Cas…” Dean mutters with an eye roll as he remembers the impromptu wedding. “No fucking Benny!”

Y/N joins his side and rubs his back in comfort as he watches his house sink into female doom. “You okay?”

The deep trenches in his brow flatten into soft valleys as his green eyes lock on her. He dips his head and pulls her to his lips, kissing her slow and reverently. “Better.” He smirks. “Just gonna have to sage the whole house tomorrow.”

That earns him a playful slap on his chest. He laughs and pulls her closer with an arm around her waist.

“Hey, uh, speaking of party…” Dean mumbles before he addresses the whole room, grabbing their attention with an authoritative clear of his throat. He’s still got it. “You guys wanna do shows in Vegas?”

“What?!”

Dean’s eyes find Y/N’s gaping face. He chuckles a little. “Yeah, uh, Bobby offered me a deal. There’s nothing in the network contract about live shows. I already went over it with Cas this afternoon. It pays well, too. You guys interested? It’s not like any of you have actual jobs lined up, right?”

Y/N closes her mouth. “I got that Sondheim musical in San Diego. It’s a workshop production, but if it goes well, it could go all the way to Broadway. I could end up in New York.”

“Good,” Dean says and smirks. “You’re fucking fired.”

“WHAT?!” Y/N’s mouth falls open again. “You said you’d never fire me!”

“Yeah, well, this is for your own good,” Dean reasons. “You think I’m gonna let you quit Sondheim for some stupid wrestling show in Vegas? You gotta be fucking nuts! This is what you fucking wanted. Don’t make me kick your stupid ass onto that stage. It’s gonna look embarrassing for you again…”

Y/N bites her lips to conceal her grin. Her eyes meet Jo’s, who mouths ‘I told you so’ at her. “Thank you,” she tells Dean and kisses his cheek. He furrows his brow at her in suspicion. “But rehearsals don’t start until June. Still gonna need a job till then.”

“Oh.” Dean’s brow shoots up in realization. “The June in nine months?”

“Yeah, the June in nine months,” Y/N confirms with a laugh.

“Whoops. Well, consider yourself rehired till June, then,” Dean relents.

“So, if I ever have to work in New York–”

“Then we’ll go to New York. Big fucking whoop-dee-doo. You know I hate LA.”

Y/N giggles, nodding. “What would you do in New York?”

“Same I do here, just on a little balcony instead of a backyard. I sit with my typewriter by a table and smoke and drink,” Dean retorts. “I’ve actually been working on a new script. I’m moving away from horror and into Western.”

“Got inspired by the motel’s wallpaper, huh?” Y/N teases. “What’s it about?”

“Father-daughter storyline. Thought I’d give that a shot…”

1990, 5 years later…

“Dean! We’re gonna be late!” Y/N reminds him and holds the blindfold in place over her eyes as he drags her somewhere by the hand. Her heels can barely keep up with his fast pace. “You know, check-in at LAX is the worst. Our flight departs in two hours. I’m nominated, Dean! I can’t reschedule! The girls are all flying in, too…”

“I know! I’m fucking hurrying, okay?” Dean assures. However, she can hear the stress and tension in his gravelly voice. He then suddenly halts and positions her into place by her shoulders before carefully taking off the blindfold. “Alright, here we are.”

Y/N blinks her eyes open and recognizes blurry shapes of purple and gold. She lifts an eyebrow as ornaments on the walls and a big stage come into view as well. “The Aztec porno theater?”

“Mayan,” Dean corrects her and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gets down in front of her on one knee and tries to fumble out the too-big ring box from his too-tiny suit jacket pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

“Dean, wait!” Y/N stops his endeavor with raised palms, her eyebrows meeting her hairline when she realizes what he’s about to do.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N!” Dean frowns in frustration and rises to his feet with a huff and a shaking head. “I know you’re against marriage and the patriarchy and all that bullshit, but c’mon… We’ve been dating for five years. We have a good thing going, right?”

After spending a whole year in beautiful Las Vegas – the Paris of Nevada – the two of them moved to New York. Dean sold his house in Burbank and opted for a Brooklyn apartment instead. Claire also studied film at NYU before she graduated last Spring. But every few months, the couple finds themselves back in LA – for interviews, for business, for friends.

“Dean–”

“No! You know me. I’d make a great fucking husband. You love it when I make reporters laugh on the red carpet. I’m an awesome trophy husband, okay?”

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?!”

Why the fuck is she angry now? He should be the one that’s angry. She’s turning down the best opportunity of her life. She should consider herself lucky he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He even had an amazing speech prepared to knock her right off her feet, but does he get to say it now? How he wanted to grow fucking old together and support each other? How he wanted to marry her all those years ago when she told him she was pregnant? Nope...

“I’m fucking pregnant!”

Dean blinks at her in confusion before his eyes begin to wander around the familiar theater. Did he take something? Drink too much? Did he actually travel through time or is this a weird fever dream on his deathbed?

“What’s it with you and this theater? And why do you always yell that?”

“Because you never listen.” Y/N giggles and bites her lower lip. “And I’ll gladly marry you if that’s what you were going for. I just figured I’d tell you before in case you wanna change your mind and bail.”

“Why the fuck would I bail?” Dean’s brows knit together, close to offense.

She shrugs and holds up her palms in surrender. “I don’t know! I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Why? Isn’t it mine?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a grin twitching on her pink lips as she slaps his arm. “Yes, of course it’s yours.”

“And you’re keeping it? You sure?” Dean throws her a quizzical look.

Her brow furrows. “Why, you aren’t?”

“No, I am!” he assures her swiftly, realizing how it sounded. “Hell yeah, I want another kid! You know I always wanted to make up for missing out on Claire so much! I finally get to change a diaper, go to the park, or the fucking zoo while my wife works… It’ll be so fun!”

Y/N tries to stifle her laugh. He seems happy, judging by the joyful glint in his green eyes. They resemble sparkling emeralds.

“But are you sure, y' know?” Dean checks with a deep look into her eyes. “I mean, I do what I can to support you and keep the thing alive in your absence, but you know you’re still gonna be benched for a couple of months, right? I’m not a fucking seahorse.”

Y/N laughs a little at that. “I know. I’m fine with sitting on the bench for a little while. I’m kinda exhausted. I did two Broadway musicals almost back to back, three off-Broadway shows, all the workshops and the rehearsals and Matinees and the dancing and the singing… Not to mention I’m nominated for a fucking Tony tonight,” she says and is close to out of breath by the time she finishes her list of accomplishments.

“Which you’re gonna win,” Dean reassures her persistently. He’s been telling her since the nominations were announced (and even before that when he first saw her in the role on the first night).

“We’ll see,” she brushes him off, although her blushed cheeks betray her words. In her heart, she hopes so as well. “Anyways, I could use the break,” she admits and takes his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers. She places a loving kiss on his lips. “Right time, right guy, right baby,” she says, smiling.

Dean squeezes her hand happily and pulls her to his lips for a searing kiss. “So, where did we land on that whole marriage thing?”

“See? You’re never listening,” she teases, laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Under one condition…”

Dean smirks. “I've had the same exact thought – Vegas. It’s perfect!”

“What, no! I don’t wanna get married in filthy Vegas, you dork!” Y/N frowns playfully, shaking her head. “I wanna get married in Nebraska. I want my dad to marry us."

Dean’s brow creases. He chuckles in amusement. “What, like a shotgun wedding? Could be fun… Pastor marries pregnant daughter to older man. Is this gonna make headlines in the townie paper?”

Y/N snorts, shaking her head at him. “No, it’s a shotgun wedding. It’s very common,” she deadpans.

“I’ve never met your parents,” Dean realizes then. “Why have I never met your parents? It’s weird they never come visit you,” he ponders.

“Oh no, they do,” Y/N tells him, pursing her lips as she twirls her hair around her finger. “They’ve seen me both in Into The Woods and Gypsy.”

“Really, when?” Dean narrows his eyes at her.

“Whenever you were in LA, visiting Claire,” Y/N admits ruefully. She never told them she was dating the director, not sure if they’d approve – not that she gives a shit, but she wanted to spare herself all the sermons and the exploring of the Sunday school dating pool. Whenever they asked who owned the men’s clothes in her apartment, she lied and said she had a gay-but-in-the-closet roommate. “But you can meet them now,” she promises with a reassuring smile on her lips. Thank God she’s an excellent, Tony-nominated actress. “I’m sure they learn to love you just like I did.”

“Learn to?”

“I love you.” Y/N smiles mischievously and shuts up any further comments by kissing him.

Dean grins and relents with a blissful sigh. “I love you, too.”

THE END 🌅

Thank you all so much for reading and making me laugh with your comments and screams throughout! 🤍

Are we done with these two for good? Probably not. I've left gaps and doors open on purpose, so I'm sure they'll make an appearance again at some point in the future 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70

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shockinglysubmissive · 1 year

Text

The Video

Shigaraki needed some porn, and Dabi was willing to provide it, at a cost of course.

Warning: pseudo-incest (video of sibling), masturbation, degradation, unprotected sex, humiliation

Solo Shigaraki and Dabi x Karuna (OC)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @dabislittlebeaniebaby @daniidil @dabislittlemouse

Being a villain means having to go deep into the shadows. That means, no internet for months at a time.

"Come on Dabi. You brag about all the sexy videos the mystery girl sends you. Share. I need something good to beat my cock to." Shigaraki practically whines, gloved hands reaching for Dabi's phone.

"Fine. But I'm warning you. You will regret this in the end." The devious smirk on Dabi's face doesn't deter the scrawny man. Scrolling through an album of photos and videos, he finally selects his favorite. It was the longest one in the collection. "I'll show it on one condition. You aren't allowed to cum until..." His finger drag across the screen, zooming through the video. "25 minutes 46 seconds."

"Whatever. Just give me it!" Shigaraki wets his lips with his tongue, hungrily waiting for the video.

"I'm not showing you until you swear. And trust me, I'll know of you lied to me." Dabi says firmly, holding the phone away from his boss.

"Fine fine. I promise. Now give me." He snatches the phone and runs off to his room. Moving so quickly, he didn't notice Dabi appearing amused, which would have given him his first clue to be concerned.

The preview of the video shows a stomach bulging out due to Dabi's cock buried deep inside them. Unable to wait any longer, he presses play, the video loading and suddenly spread legs fill the screen.

Black lace panties cling to a torturously wet pussy. "Go on. Told ya, bitch. You're not getting my cock today unless I get to film ya. Make it entertaining. You owe me for being a fucking brat." Dabi's voice growls from behind the camera. Eerily familiar manicured hands creep into the frame and slide the sticky panties off.

Shigaraki fights to take his belt and pants off with one hand, the other tightly gripping the phone, not wanting to miss a second of the twitching pussy showing on the screen. Growing frustrated with how long it is taking, he raises a gloved hand to his mouth, biting a finger to remove his hand from inside. With his lower clothing now nothing more than dust, he grips the base of his cock.

Turning his attention fully to the video, a grin spreads across his face as a dildo, too large for her tight hole, appears. Broken sobs, not even close to forming words fill his ears as inch by inch, the toy is sucked into her needy cunt. Only half of the toy was filling her, but babbles of "too much" and "gonna cum" are repeated over and over again.

"That thing is no bigger than me. Come on. You can take more." Shifting into frame slightly, a fully clothed Dabi leans over, gripping the suction cupped end of the toy, twisting and pumping it slowly. Heavenly whines, and desperate pleas to cum fall on Dabi's deaf ears. Ending his slow torture, he gives the toy one sharp thrust before burying it deep inside her. "Don't you dare fucking cum. I'll fucking cover your entire body with scorching hot cum if you even think about it. Now entertain me."

Shigaraki's eyes focus on the way her body tries to push the toy out, Dabi backing away to leave the frame again. Timing the jerk of his wrist with the shaky thrusts of the toy, he already feels himself nearing his release. Not wanting this to end, his fingers wrap tightly around his base. Feeling safe to release himself, he moves his hand down to roll his heavy balls.

His fingers massage his balls while the video plays, broken sobs ringing in his ears as she loses track of how long she's been fucking herself without release. Her legs started shaking minutes ago, and sweat glistened on her body before Dabi gave in.

"You want to cum bitch? Yeah, bet you do. But your only allowed to cum on my cock. So drop the toy." The sound of his belt being tossed aside is the only sound as her shaking hands toss the toy next to her on the bed, showing her puffy lips and clenching pussy.

The camera moves, showing her full body, minus the fucked out face Shigaraki was desperate to see. Heavy breast bounce with each panting breath as Dabi settles himself between her legs. To his slight disbelief, Dabi hadn't been lying when he said the toy was about the same size as him. The biggest difference between the two were the lines of metal balls on each side of his shaft where his piercings were.

The manicured hands trail gently over her chest, swirling mesmerizingly around the pert nipples. Shigaraki's mouth waters as he imaged how soft the skin would feel between his teeth, how pretty her pale skin would look with his teeth marks scattered around it.

On the lower part of the video, the head of Dabi's cock disappears, a groan leaving his lips at what Shigaraki could only imagine was the softest walls pulling him deeper. A scarred hand grips one of her plush thighs as he bullies himself deeper, until every inch is nestled deep inside her. Judging by the way she squirms, the tip was pushing painfully against her cervix.

"This must be where the thumbnail of the video came from…" Shigaraki thinks out loud, seeing the familiar stomach bulging once again.

"I can feel you spasming. Don't fucking cum. You only cum when my seed is in your womb." Dabi growls, the hand previously on her thigh now gently smacking her clit. He gives no time for a response before fucking her the way her messy hole deserves.

Covering the part of the video where Dabi was visible, Shigaraki fisted his cock in time with the wet slaps of skin, imagining he was the one causing the girl to fall apart and beg. He wanted to be the one who she was begging to fill with cum, not the burnt villain currently in that spot. He was getting dangerously close to the edge again, checking the time. 25 minutes 2 seconds. Just a bit longer and he will be able to cum.

Dabi's thrusts became sloppy and rushed, the perfect cunt below him too irresistible to not breed. Smoke rises from his fingers, which had found their way back to her thighs. Shigaraki ignores the deep grunts as Dabi cums, choosing to focus on the soft whimpers as the girl realizes she's going to be allowed to cum now.

The smoking fingers press against her clit, slowly teasing it just enough to push her over the edge. 25 minutes 43 seconds. Shigaraki pumps his cock faster hearing her riding out her high, coating his hand with his own cum. The camera pans up to the fucked out face of Karuna. Her black and blue hair fanned out on the pillow behind her head.

A disgusted wail leaves his lips as he throws the phone to the foot of his bed. From behind the door, a deep laugh can be heard. Dabi walks in an grabs his phone from the bottom of the bed.

"Thanks for that boss. Been needing a good laugh for a while. Now, I'm gonna go show this to your sister while I make her beg for my cock again." Waving the phone, Shigaraki finally notices the small red light indicating he had been filming himself the entire time.

"Have any videos of her sucking dick? With all the shit she talks, bet you've fucked her face a few times. She look good covered in your cum?" Shigaraki asks.

"You're a real pervert, boss. I'll send you the pictures later." Dabi winks before leaving the room to make Karuna deal with the throbbing erection he's been sporting since Shigaraki took his phone.

#tw pseudocest #tw pseudo-incest #tw degradation #dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi smut #dabi todoroki smut #Shigaraki Shigaraki smut #mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #my hero academia #my hero academia smut

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soupthecoolest · 5 months

Text

CnD!

alright! so CnD, or "Creation and Destruction" is my homebrew "dnd" campaign!! i have dnd in quotes just cause. well my autism got too strong and i made an entire handbook with my own mechanics LMAO so it's really it's own Thing at this point. which is super cool n fun. after everything's been wrapped up i might publish that handbook but WE SHALL SEE.

anyway CnD is my own personal excuse to make my friends rp with me and my crazy ocs. SO.

it all started when the 11 party members crashed on the beach in a town they'd never seen before. looked totally normal until at the end of the first session they found a portal!

jumping in, that just... kept happening. small adventure, portal, repeat. with no end in sight. as the party began questioning why all this was happening, they met these two little FREAKS named mayhem and maelstrom. (i'll add all refs i have below!!)

anyway mae n may mentioned an elusive “She” that they’re working for, which led my players down an insane conspiracy rabbit hole in which they guessed 90% of hullabaloo’s vibe based on a PRONOUN. ONE PRONOUN I DROPPED I CAN’T TELL THESE MFS ANYTHING

next, they met pandemonium, (@weedsmokingbfs's oc!!! owe you my life muppy) who told them that: these portals aren't taking them place to place, it's transporting them around purgatory. and they've all died.

since then it's been up to the party to navigate their purpose, how to escape, all of it.

then they met bedlam, who explained to them this crazy prophecy and the reason they're all trapped there, which connects to a decision he made 800 years earlier.

enter callie.

my god this is so much to explain IM CRAZY ok. so callie and dee (@percexe) had been meeting in the void for centuries. he'd see callie there when he died and never knew why. 2 idiots had an unspoken pact to not talk about their pasts, but boy they should've!

it would've revealed that callie is actually named chaos, and directly related to all the other crazy clowns they'd meet across the campaign.

they're called the Story, the main 6 pantheon of gods i've set up in this universe! so we've got (in order of like. "hierarchy")

mayhem and maelstrom: gods of war and balance (he/they)

pandemonium: trickster god of illusion (he/it)

bedlam: god of magic and prophecy (he/him)

hullabaloo: goddess of joy, day, and spontaneity (she/her)

chaos: goddess of narration, night, and tradition (she/he)

the Story are basically the worlds most fucked up family, all considering each other brother and sister. in the beginning they were fine, but as time went on things just naturally got more and more messed, and now everything is just a nightmare

chaos and hullabaloo are kinda a tier above the rest of the story, part of their own subset called the Storytellers.

hullabaloo wanted more power and betrayed chaos, trapping her in the void for eternity, as she wanted to rule the universe herself. which all circles back to how callie met dee.

in the void, chaos didn't feel like himself and took on the name calypso, which is how she introduced herself to dee once they met.

and nobody found out anything out of a series of insane miscommunications and lack of info! what fun!

but now in the campaign timeline, everyone's basically caught up. we've finished the first season and are heading into the second in a couple weeks!!! also excuse if this feels rushed at all it's because it is <3 LMFAO there's just so much with CnD, this barely scratches the surface.

there's so much i couldn't cover here like the prophecy binding the party to purgatory, bedlam's entire role in that, the mages, etc. we're like 25 sessions in and so far i've planned 40 more. i am SO normal!!!!

PLEASEEE ask about it if you're curious!! im so insane about my campaign it is my pride and joy :]]

in order there: hullabaloo, chaos, bedlam, pandemonium, and mayhem and maelstrom! ART CREDS for pandemonium and may&mae refs @weedsmokingbfs !!! once more muppy i owe u all my beans

#cnd #dnd #dnd campaign #ASK ME ABOUT MY CAMPAIGN IM CRAZY #clowncore #circuscore #oc #oc art #homebrew #dnd homebrew

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michellesmusing · 15 days

Text

Risky Business - Chapter 1

The Accomplice

She was still late for work, and her uncle sighed when he didn’t see her at the office of his garage.

“Where the hell is she again??” He asked one of his mechanics. The man shrugged his shoulders.

“Haven’t seen her!!” Just as her uncle was getting furious and certainly impatient with her, Taylor was seen arriving at the garage with her 2006 Red Subaru WRX STI.

“Great! Here you are, late again!!” Her uncle Thomas was growing tired of her lateness.

“What's your excuse this time, Taylor?” The young woman got out of the car and looked up at her uncle, not really in the mood to be lectured by him.

“Hmm, let me think about one!!” As Taylor showed up to work with a sarcastic attitude, Thomas rapidly grew furious with her and seized her upper arm with his right hand.

“Don’t play this game with me Taylor! Don’t forget that you still owe money. Get your ass at the reception right away and better put up a smile on that face of yours!!” The young woman pulled her arm away from her uncle’s grip and displayed a fake smile on her lips.

“Happy now!!?” Thomas sighed in despair at her and placed his hands on his hips.

“Damn Brat!” He said as he watched her getting inside the garage's reception.

Taylor took place on the chair at the desk and turned on the computer to check the appointments for the day. She caught one of the mechanics that was working on the car of Ms. Flanerty.

“I called her last night, she said we can change all the brakes…” The mechanic nodded at Taylor. The young woman passed a hand in her short pale blonde hair and logged into her facebook account, making sure her uncle wasn’t near her… He was still outside, speaking with someone. Probably trying to sell one of his shitboxes with some crazy high interest.

Facebook reminded her that it was Megan’s birthday today. Taylor rolled her eyes and decided to delete that woman from her Facebook.

“Cunt!” She whispered as she pressed on the delete button… Which reminded her that it was her birthday as well in a few weeks, she dreaded turning 25, knowing well she was reaching half of her twenties by now.

When her blue eyes spotted the silhouette of her uncle approaching the reception with the guy, Taylor quickly closed the browser page of her Facebook page.

“That will be a good car for you Sir, my men did a complete inspection of this Toyota RAV4 and you’re good to go for many years…” Taylor listened to her uncle’s conversation while she pretended to have her blue eyes glued on the computer screen. Another line of bullshit coming out of her uncle’s mouth.

The mechanics had inspected the car rapidly, and they had only changed the brake pads, not even the discs, and they had patched the muffler so it wouldn’t be noisy, but it was just a matter of time until the muffler would become noisy and the customer would need to change the whole thing… Which would cost around 2000$

Taylor looked up at her uncle while he was speaking with the man. She caught the piercing look in his eyes, meaning that she was better to keep her lil mouth shut. Thomas then entered his office with the man and he closed the door.

Taylor shook her head, knowing well that this poor man was getting screwed. There’s nothing she could do about it, but she hated it, cause she felt like she was part of the game as well, since she was aware that this SUV was just a rolling garbage. Few hours passed until it was her break for lunch time. Taylor sat outside and ate her chicken wrap with her co-workers.

Everything was going fine until her uncle showed up.

“Come inside Taylor, I’d like to speak to you!” The young woman rolled her eyes again at her uncle and as he was running short of patience, he grabbed Taylor by her upper arm and lifted her up on her feet. She wasn’t very tall and was quite easy to control.

“Don’t start me up Taylor Bradley!!! You come right away with me in my office!!” Thomas hated to be taken for a clown, especially in front of his employees. He especially hated when Taylor was rolling her eyes. She was being arrogant and he didn’t know what was up with her, well, he kinda had an idea but he preferred to stay out of her love life.

“Let go of me!!!” Taylor clenched her teeth and demanded her uncle to let go of her. He did once they were in his office.

“Now, you sit down on this chair and you’ll listen to me carefully young lady!!” Taylor sat down on the chair and crossed her arms while displaying this angry look on her face.

“You arrived late 3 times this week!! You either arrive a few minutes before the opening or I’m going to send you home for a week and this without being paid!! Is that what you want?”

Taylor sighed loudly at her uncle

“No, that’s not what I want!!” She gulped, feeling at the mercy of her uncle again. She was only dreaming of leaving Las Vegas for good, but she knew that her past was still following her, and she’d only be allowed to leave Vegas, once she’d be done reimbursing that money she was owing her uncle.

“Tomorrow morning, I want you to be there at 7: 15 and not at 8 O' clock!! Did I make myself clear?” When he saw that she wasn’t answering his question, he slapped the back of her head.

“Are you deaf for christ sake??” She then answered him a big yes, and returned to work, angry toward her uncle. When 5 PM arrived, Taylor left in a hurry in her Red Subie, only to realize once she was home that she had forgotten her Iphone.

“Oh no, for real… Geez!!!” The young woman had to get back in her car and drove back to the garage. She didn’t call her uncle, because she had the keys to enter by the back door. Taylor arrived at the garage near 6:30 PM and parked her car behind the garage. She unlocked the back door and entered the garage… She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the familiar voice of her uncle coming from his office. It did seem that he was with someone else.

“What do you mean you ain’t got my money?? You came all the way here, without my money??” She wasn’t sure if her uncle was speaking with someone over the phone, but Taylor got her answer when she heard the voice of another man coming from the office.

“I will have it soon, business sucks lately Thomas!” It was pitch dark in the garage, Taylor could only see a dim light coming from her uncle’s office.

“Do you think I’m some sort of an idiot Mark?? I can’t believe you’re coming here, to tell me that you don’t have my money!!” She could tell that her uncle was pissed off after this guy. There’s no way she was going to retrieve her Iphone at this point. Even though she knew that she should have left, Taylor couldn’t help listening to the conversation between both men.

“Come on, take it easy Thomas. In Two Weeks, I’ll get some money and I’ll give you part of it. You gotta trust me!” Taylor’s eyes widened as she listened to the stranger taking place in her uncle’s office.

“Trusting you? Are you out of your crazy mind?!!! I trusted you once, and look where it got me!! You know that I’ve warned you Mark! It was the last time that you took me for a clown!!” Taylor locked her eyes toward the hall leading to her uncle’s office and as the loud noise of a shotgun bullet echoed in the garage, the young woman jolted in place. Her blue eyes widened in shock, and she knew what her uncle had just done.

Her heart racing to the max in her chest, the young woman rapidly but quietly left the garage in a hurry, not wanting her uncle to spot her. She was so shocked by what had just happened at the garage, that Taylor almost stalled her manual car when she pressed on the gas pedal.

She quickly left the parking lot of the garage and that’s when Thomas heard the revving sound coming from the WRX STI and hurried outside, but didn’t have the time to catch sight of the car that had just left the place. The car had already turned right in another street, and Thomas sighed loudly.

He knew that sound well… But for now, he had bigger fish to fry!

Taylor was taking place in her red Subie, and she couldn’t stop looking up at the rearview mirror, afraid that her uncle would follow her. She drove back home with no trace of her uncle following her, but she was still without her Iphone. She tried to calm herself down when she got home by taking a warm bath. The young woman was sober for 3 years and wasn’t allowed any alcohol or drugs, so calming herself down would only be possible with a warm bath and a melatonin at this point.

She gulped down the Melatonin pills and headed to her bathroom where she ran herself a warm bath.

“Come on, calm yourself, you’ve seen nothing. You weren’t even there ok???” Taylor was relaxing in her bathtub, trying to convince herself of these little lies. The young woman was shaking and even believed for a moment that perhaps her uncle had just tried to scare this man by shooting a bullet… Nope, she had heard the man moaning in pain as the bullet hit him.

30 minutes later, the young woman got out of her bath and dressed for the night with just a white long night shirt and turned on the TV in her living room. She chose a music channel and “Informer” From Snow began playing through her speakers.

“Oh My God” Taylor couldn’t recall the last time she had heard that song… She wasn’t even born yet when this song came out during the early 90’s. Even though the song was kinda cheesy, she couldn’t help moving her head to the rap beat.

It was almost 10 PM when she began to fall asleep on her couch, and as she was on her way to go to her bedroom, a powerful knock on her door caught her by surprise and the young woman stood still in her living room.

“Who’s this?” She asked as she carefully approached her door and looked through the peephole. She immediately recognized her uncle standing on the other side of the door.

“It’s me, your uncle… You forgot your Iphone at the garage.” Taylor had to do as if she wasn’t aware of what her uncle had done and opened the door.

“Hi!” Her uncle looked down at her pale skin on her face when she greeted him.

“Damn, have you seen a ghost? He added, mocking his niece. The young woman extended her arm as she wanted to retrieve her brand new Iphone bought by her uncle.

“You forgot your precious Smartphone, the one that cost me a fortune!” He gave back the smartphone to his niece and noticed she was shaking. That’s when he pushed her a bit aside and entered her apartment.

“What are you doing?” She asked her uncle, she was clearly growing nervous as he made his way inside her place.

“What’s going on Taylor, you seem nervous?” He smirked at her and began rummaging through her apartment as if he wanted to find something specific.

“Still doing Drugs, Taylor? Don’t lie to me!!” Taylor crossed her arms and followed her uncle around her place.

“Nope, haven’t touched any of that crap for three years and you know it!!” Taylor knew she didn’t have a choice and admitted to her uncle that she had seen him tonight.

“I heard you getting into a fight with a guy named Mark tonight, I got the hell out of the place when I heard that gun shot…” She wanted to die, she didn’t know what would be her uncle’s reaction, but she didn’t have the choice, knowing well that she’d suck at lying to him.

“I knew you were there, I heard your precious car revving up!!” He narrowed his blue eyes at her and approached the young woman and trapped her between him and the kitchen wall.

“Now, listen to me carefully Taylor, I don’t want to hurt you… You’re a bit like my daughter, you know that, right? But if you do open up that mouth of yours to anyone, I won’t have many choices for you, do you understand this?” The young woman nodded her head, frightened by her uncle. All of sudden, she wasn’t the sarcastic lil brat she used to be…

“Good! I knew you’d cooperate!” He winked at her before grabbing the melatonin bottle on her kitchen counter.

“Better sleep well my dear, and I want you to be at work tomorrow morning, and not be late this time!!” He kissed the young woman on her forehead and left her apartment. Taylor let out a loud sigh of relief when her uncle quit her place. She locked her door and went back to her living room, unable to go to bed, knowing well that she was by now her uncle’s accomplice…

#goran visnjic #goran višnjić #gorgeous goran #Willem Dafoe #Risky Business #Authority K!nk #FBI Agent #Thriller #Suspense and action #Subaru

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zoeykallus · 2 years

Text

Tech – Thank You For Loving Me 25 – Returning A Favour

Tech x Fem!Reader FF

Fluff/Comfort

----------------

It's good to have the Batch as your family.

---------------

What Happened Before:

Nervous Flutter

Part 2 - Help Me To Let Go

Part 3 - Asking For Advice

Part 4 - Devotion

Part 5 - The Explorer

Part 6 - You’re The Best

Part 7 - Experimental (½)

Part 8 - Experimental (2/2) - Not Fully Functional

Part 9 - Not Alone

Part 10 - Cared For

Part 11 - Don’t You Worry

Part 12 - A White Lie

Part 13 - Hope

Part 14 - Games To Play

Part 15 - Work Work Work

Part 16 - Trouble

Part 17 - In Loving Domination (½)

Part 18 - The Game Changer

Part 19 - Wild Animal

Part 20 - Embarrassing Vulnerabilities

Part 21 - Between Hangover And Love

Part 22 - The Future Ahead Of Us

Part 23 - About Making A Baby

Part 24 - It’s Going To Be Okay

Part 25 - Returning A Favour

Crosshair led you into the Marauder to Tech's old bunk. He gently but firmly pushed you down onto the bunk, covered you up and said, "Hunter gets the test and you rest, but more importantly, shut up."

You had to laugh, you couldn't help it, he was trying to cover that he was trying to be nice to you and the slightly nastier words sounded so full of affection that it sounded kind of hilarious. He was always so edgy, or at least he tried, but there was so much more to this man.

"Oh, okay, now she's laughing at me too," he grumbled and you couldn't help but to grin at him.

"Will you stay here with me?"

Crosshair blinked, as if he wasn't sure he really heard the words he did.

"What?"

"Can you stay with me? Until Tech gets back I mean", you repeat softly with a hopeful little smile „I really don't want to be alone right now... pleas, Cross“

Crosshair looked around, Echo had left with Hunter, and Wrecker had probably gone to Cid's bar to get Tech. He finally sat down on the edge of the bunk with a sigh and said, "Okay, fine by me. I still owe you anyway, for that night by the river. But don't call me Cross again"

You smiled at him in relief and said, "You don't owe me anything, that night by the river I didn't do anything for which I would expect anything in return. We are a family... Crosshair"

He rolled his eyes and said, "Stop with the mushy nonsense already".

„Admit it, you got a sweet soul“

Crosshair frowned and said, „One more word like that and I leave you here“

He didn't really mean that, you knew, and his words weren't sounding as sharp as he had planned to because of it.

You spun around on the bed, curled up with your blanket and rested your head on his thigh.

"What the..." he sighed "Okay fine, because of the... extraordinary circumstances. Just don't expect me to pat you or something like that"

You chuckled, "I would never do that".

He sighed heavily.

„You're a pain in my ass, Kitten“

He put his hand on your shoulder a little hesitantly but then left it there.

Very softly you said, „Thank you“

Crosshair replied just as softly, „Shut up“

Wrecker had sent Tech home, sort of. He hadn't said why or what it was about, and he stayed with Cid at the bar when she offered him a chance to try a new dish on her menu. Wrecker had seemed excited, but not worried. In response to Tech's questions, he had merely pushed him impatiently toward the door and told him to hurry.

Now standing at the top of the Marauder's ramp, he saw Crosshair sitting on Tech's old bunk and you with your head on his brother's lap. Tech blinked, stopped, neither you nor Crosshair had noticed him until now.

Then he heard you speak, "Crosshair?"

"Hmm?"

"What if I'm not a good mother?"

Tech held his breath for a moment, surprised that you were discussing such thoughts with the Sniper, of all people. Tech was worried that you didn't talk to him instead.

"Are you kidding?" scoffed Crosshair "You and Tech are by far the best people to raise a kid, teach it how to survive out there and do the right thing. I don't know anyone better suited to that role"

Tech could hear the surprise in your voice as you asked, "You really think so?"

Crosshair nodded.

"Sure. You two together have all the best qualities parents should probably have"

He cleared his throat and added, "Don't tell Tech I said that."

Tech smirked.

You laughed softly.

"Why not?"

Crosshair rolled his eyes, "Just do me the favor".

Tech smiled to himself, it didn't matter if Crosshair showed it openly or not, Tech always knew the Sniper had soft sides to him too.

Tech cleared his throat and finally entered the Marauder, seeing both of you looking in his direction, startled.

"You'll be fine without me now, right?", Crosshair asked you quietly.

When you nodded, he stood up and retreated to the cockpit. Tech sat down in the spot where the Sniper had been sitting before. You sat up and looked at him. Your heart was racing so fast that you felt a little dizzy.

Tech reached for your hand and squeezed it gently.

"Wrecker told me to hurry back, that it was urgent. Has something happened?"

Your heart suddenly seemed to beat even faster and you had to take a deep breath. Tech looked at you with concern.

"Why are you so nervous, Cyare? What's wrong?"

You looked at him uncertainly.

"Hunter noticed something today," you said quietly.

Tech frowned at you.

"Noticed something? What do you mean?"

"On me," you said uncertainly.

"What exactly did he notice? Are you sick?"

Tech turned pale and you hastily shook your head.

"No, not a sickness. It's not certain, but he could sense that my smell has changed, my hormone balance."

Tech took a little moment. Suddenly his eyes grew even larger behind the lenses of his goggles. A shaky breath came over his lips.

"Mesh'la, does it mean what I think it means?"

"If you're thinking about a baby, yes, but like I said, it's not certain yet, Hunter is out right now getting a test for me,"

Tech pulled you into his arms and gave you a gentle squeeze.

"Oh Cyare, I hope it's true."

You snuggled up to him, taking a deep breath. Feeling Tech's embrace reminded you that you weren't alone, this thing wasn't just about you and the absolute most reliable person you knew was Tech. You closed your eyes for a moment, resting your head on his shoulder. He stroked your hair and spoke softly to you, as if he sensed that this was exactly what you needed. The panic you had felt before was practically forgotten, you were completely absorbed in his embrace, his body heat, his affection.

"I love you," he whispered into your hair and cradled you gently, "You don't have to be afraid, you'll be a great mother."

You smiled against his shoulder and said, "So you heard what I talked to Crosshair?"

"Yes, my dear, I did. There is no need to be worried"

@ben-is-a-hoe

@kaminocasey

@nunanuggets

@hypnoash

@brynhildrmimi

@livi-s

@ttzamara

@thebadbatchscyare

@rexandechosandwich

@mybigfatspoonielife

@clone-whore-99 chxpsi

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@andyoufollowyourheart

@kaliel2310

@misogirl828

@tech-deck

@loverofclones

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pbandjesse · 11 months

Text

I am feeling very very bad right now. I am 90% sure it's because I got a vaccine today but man

Am I uncomfortable right now. I just want to go to sleep. I hurt literally everywhere. This is not fun.

It was a good day though. It was so nice to be clean and in my own bed. But waking up was hard.

When I did get up I really liked my outfit and I felt good. Me and James got ready to go and we were on our way to the museum.

I was kind of not having the best time though. It would all work out but man. Things weren't going well. I forgot my cashbox, which has my credit card reader, and part of my stand. I was frustrated. James offered to go back home but I didn't want that. It made me feel terrible. But it would be fine. Helen offered me he extra card reader but sadly she has an apple phone so it wouldn't work for mine. But I appreciated her so much. And everyone said if I needed change they would help me out. But it ended up being fine and everything worked out.

I would make a few sales. It was a good day! We had lots of new faces and kindness and it was good.

I also decided to talk to the health department. And they said that because I'm immunocompromised I can get another booster. I doubled checked with my injection's website and it said as long as it's more then a week out it's fine. So I went for it.

I ended up having a really lovely conversation with the workers there. And got to talk about the tug boat for a little while. And after they gave me the shot they gave me a $25 gift card!! Amazing!

I would move my arm a bunch because that's something I had heard from the booster the last time. And I tried to drink a lot of water. And James would get me a quesadilla for lunch. So I hoped I wouldn't have the side effcets I normally have.

But my legs and feet would start to hurt. And even though I know I make, and made, better sales when I'm standing I had to sit. I would work on my knitting and got 5 squares done. Was pretty pleased with that at least.

Ann left for her nephew's wedding and I was in charge. I would go and check in with other venders. James bought me black raspberries and that's was fun. Was fun to try a new fruit. They stain like crazy but they tasted good.

I was happy when it was the end of the market. I would have a nice chat with the new vender who makes pot holders and scrunchies and I hope she comes back.

I would load up my stuff. And sat on the ground and read a New Yorker article while the food venders finished packing up. Stanley laughed at me for sitting in the ground but I was comfortable.

I would head inside to say goodbye to James. Who accidently grabbed me right on my injection site. Ow. I was already feeling like a little baby but I needed to make it home.

First I stopped at the grocery store. I got new shampoo and conditioner. Some stuff for the dinner James wanted to make. And a lunch for myself tomorrow. I tried to find the wrist brace but they didn't have the right kind. So I would end up just ordering one online.

Getting home was a nightmare. The regular route said it would take twice as long. And then I couldn't even get off my exit so I went off the next one and took the most bizarre way back to MLK.

I was so happy to be home. I felt so tired.

I got everything I bought at the grocery store tore, and the pie James for and the quiche Ginny gave me, put away. And then changed to lay down.

I would fall asleep for a while. I was not feeling good but I couldn't get comfortable. Thankfully I would fall asleep eventually. But when I woke up James wasn't home. A wedding party for tomorrow came late and came to the door and so James was helping them but they took almost a full hour. Ugh.

They would be home soon though. And I was happy to see them because I felt so bad.

James would make us dinner. And I would make a TikTok about grimace's birthday. Because the scary tiktoks were fun but the baby grimace who had no one come to his party was to much for me. In my fragile not feeling good state, I keep crying about it!! So I got my grimace beanie baby and lit a birthday cake candle for him. Poor baby.

We played video games for a bit. But my eyes kept watering. And I wasn't feeling good. I felt so weak.

Showering was really tough. I had to have the water low and cool because the water hurt my skin.

James got me my hoodie because I was super cold all of a sudden. But I had to do my post. And it's been really hard to focus. But now I can sleep.

Tomorrow I have to clean the fish tanks and I want to cut out bear fabric. I also just want to rest. I hope I can and that I don't feel so bad.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. I hope you are feeling good and get good rest. Goodnight everyone!

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zalrb · 2 years

Text

OTH Rewatch Review - 2x23

1. This expression kills me. He looks like a toddler about to have a temper tantrum

2. IIIIIIIIIIIIII DON’T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYYYYYY

3. I like how Lucas shows no signs of having a heart condition. Pills would have side effects, no?

4. Peyton and her biological mother storyline. Yayyyy (that’s sarcasm).

5. I just couldn’t imagine teaming up with my partner’s teenage son to take down his biological father. I’m a whole ass adult.

6. I just think it’s hilarious that they left the portrait painted over in Nathan’s apartment. It’s SO angsty.

7. *Nathan throws away a dreamcatcher* “Giving up on your dreams?” Moving past how problematic it is that white people use aspects of Indigenous culture as props, that doesn’t even make sense in this context.

8. Man, they realllllllllllllllllllllllly tried to make me care about Keith and Karen.

I mean, do they?

10.

because, ladies, if your hair is down you’re always trying to impress boys and if it’s up you’re always trying to avoid them.

11.

SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THIS.

12. And Deb is just ... fine now. I mean, she was also fine when she was an addict. This show lacks so much nuance, it’s amazing.

13. “Your father can burn in hell for all I care.” FORESHADOWING.

14. Lucas having a wet dream about Brooke in her cheerleading uniform is the FUNNIEST thing ever.

15. And I know it’s also because the whole point is to trick the viewer into thinking this was actually happening before it’s revealed that it’s a dream but it’s cute he adds her Brookeisms to his dream too

16. It’s also cute that his wet dream isn’t just about sex but it’s about him telling her he loves her.

FOR. LEYTON?

17.

classic.

18. I like how they’re supposed to be broke but Karen can just ... go to New Zealand.

19. Why does Nathan still have a framed photo of him and Peyton? What is with shows doing this? And Haley would’ve freaked out if she saw it, Haley is actually pretty jealous with Nathan, which is IRONIC but anyway.

20.

Honestly, they should’ve fleshed out their friendship more, they’re cute.

21. I love Brooke.

and how offended Nathan is

22. Honestly, if Nathan and Brooke did have sex and the writers didn’t just insert that to make Peyton seem less like a horrible person, there is no way Nathan would’ve kept that from Peyton. Season 1 Nathan? The emotionally abusive asshole who left Peyton at the side of the road, got drunk, hit a car with Peyton’s and then left it at the scene not caring if Peyton would get charged? He would’ve rubbed that in her face during a fight.

23. Why would you show Deb the ledger AT the house?

24. I shouldn’t laugh at this but the delivery was funny

25. You have one dealership, Dan.

26. Deb, how would you NOT know that you owned the dealership?

27. “You’re playing with fire, Danny.” FORESHADOWING.

28. If Karen has a cell phone then Andy definitely has one so why wouldn’t she call that instead of the hotel? Or both?

29. I mean, he has a point, Lucas. It WAS too easy. And it would be fine if they leaned into the fact that Lucas is, like, 17 and teenagers think they’re the smartest people in the room.

30. Dan no longer paying for Lucas’ heart medication is lol, you will let your son die, fam.

31. “I’m out.” “That’s where you’re wrong, you’ll never be out.” OK but I thought this whole speech was about how you’re cutting him off, which then means, that you two don’t owe each other anything.

32.

33. this dialogue is KILLING me

34. Lucas is so fucking dramatic, let’s wait till the last possible moment to kiss Brooke and tell her that I want to be with her when I was just sitting on a bench at the river court for a bit, hanging out, and I could’ve had this conversation with her then.

35. But this is it, guys, this is the scene that made me watch the show.

36.

me, watching this the first time:

37.

Narrator: He did, in fact, let her go. Again.

38. FOR. LEYTON?

39.

FOR. LEYTON??

40. Dan putting the ledger back in the safe is like ... why? You’re planning on pulling the exact same scheme on someone else?

41. Lol Deb has nearly tried to kill Dan twice.

42. I remember living for this scene and then being mad that in season 3 it’s a different take so Bethany’s “hi” isn’t as vulnerable

43. “Tennessee Williams once wrote--” no one cares, Lucas.

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scruffina · 2 years

Text

(simpsons longpost) not to be like

like a ravenous little shipper hunting for skinner/edna crumbs, but the writing for them in season three seems to imply they have, at least, a tense but storied professional relationship. more likely a years-long friendship, marked — maybe flippantly, or maybe there's more resentment there — by their digressions into professional gripes/feuds with one another.

on a slimmer chance, they're supposed to be romantically involved, or at least have a history or have the tension/intentions that would lead to them becoming involved.

now where on earth is this remarkable bit of baseless reaching coming from?

i observed all this based off a clip from "bart's friend falls in love", timestamp ~4:15-25 in the episode. when skinner introduces samantha to the class:

and now longer and without captioning, to fully see their expressions:

really, it's as much in the wallace and shearer delivery as in the animation/staging, so you'd benefit from hearing the clip as well. (the whole show is on fmovies if you don't mind closing spam ads super-fast. you could make a game of it!)

but honestly, the direction here? the way skinner leans in to speak to edna but never looks at her, his intonation...

"i think we should talk about this later" is a couples-centric cliché, almost always delivered as this stern, low-voiced warning [which can imply a shitty power dynamic so that's no good! though i don't think that rings true for these characters. but why do men always have to tell women to shut up through gritted teeth? like calm down mister]...

edna's flat exasperation at the school's strained resources; her brief cycle through disapproving side-eye, to far-off contemplation, to a pasted-on smile, which says: it's fine, right? with a twinge of nervousness i find really compelling.

you see two adults wanting to have an adult conversation, but needing to save face in front of the children.

there's so many potential "laters" to this:

they exchange barbs over their coffee break: maybe half-hearted, if they're otherwise stressed and tired and kind of over it. or maybe it's a more lively argument; they're both kind of the type to let something small stew and get worked up about it. plus they love to battle intellectually, one-upping each another both in debates about school policies and in name-calling.

if you interpret this as implying they're more than friends, you might imagine seymour later trying to apologize and placate edna for the added stress, and edna being honest about her shitty day and seeking comfort, or not taking to seymour's weakshit efforts and acting cold. the 'we talk about this while driving home together after work, and it determines how the rest of the night goes' universe

neither of them is unafraid of a dour mood, i imagine. they're lonely and cynical and not trying to hide it. they're not trying to be popular among staff or students. if they really had this kind of dark-sided kindred-spirits, 'we just eat lunch together in companionable pissed-off silence' thing going with their friendship — which is kinda my favourite read of things at this 'time' canonically (i.e. early 90s, if they get together in spring '97 in accordance with "gsc") — then this samantha incident should hardly mean anything.

[subpoint but i can't indent further] it should almost be an inside joke that's only funny in the absurd sadness unique to their context: god isn't our school falling apart and we're so so messed up and burnt out we can't attend to the kids' education properly but don't we really owe it to them? but no they're little pains and didn't we have dreams once an—

anyway, there's just a lot of rich character stuff to be mined from a throwaway cliché 'disgruntled couple' moment if you're a tin-hatter like me. no real conclusion to these scattered thoughts yet again!!

as a side note, the other time off the top of my head season three plays up their bond is in "bart the murderer", where bart imagines krabappel inconsolably weeping over the skinner memorial fire hose: "he loved fire drills!" again, the writers make it seem like they're close friends.

bonus richard chamberlain of the day:

#principal skinner #seymour skinner #edna krabappel #skinner and krabappel #simpsons meta #the simpsons #simpsons #season three #bart's friend falls in love #bart the murderer #meta #character analysis

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sharuruwrites · 1 year

Text

Your Answer (Pt.1)

Summary: Which of the following simple phrases that can change someone's life? Take a guess.

A.) I love you B.) You matter C.) I'm sorry

Timeline: Gojo - 26, Shion - 25

Tags: Can get very angsty at the start and near the end, Gojo (annoyingly/adoringly), Shion being a Tsundere, Fluff, Shoko being tired of her friends' oblivious acts,

Words: 4.1k+

A/n: HEEEYYYYY, I'm back from my unannounced 4 month hiatus. Don't worry, this author is fighting tooth and nail with writer's block on a daily basis. Anyways, it was supposed to be a Megumi-ish centered chapter but the author still hasn't grasped of his character that much to think what would he be like in his childhood with Shion around. Because of this said problem, I was duking out with writer's block, and school.

EDIT: I kept forgetting to upload this chapter since January because my stuff doesn't show up unless its morning.

Special thanks to zark or xerox-candybar for beta reading this chapter because as always, she did a wonderful job.

Disclaimer: I don't own JJK

Masterlist

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

---------------------------------

One morning, a lone special grade sorcerer, Shion Gojo, spent some time in the quiet halls of the school library. Shion had long forgotten the opened book in her hand along with the untouched tea she made earlier. Instead of reading, she focused on the cherry petals falling like light rain from the nearby window.

‘It’s been 10 years since I’ve met Satoru, huh?’ Shion thought.

“Are you by yourself?”

Shion turned her attention towards the direction of the voice, and it was Shoko. Much to Shion’s surprise, the ever-present dark circles on the doctor’s face weren't there. If Shion wasn’t mistaken, the last time she saw Shoko without them was before she enrolled into med school.

“Shouldn’t you be at the morgue around this time?” Shion asked, watching the latter take a seat across from her.

“I should be,” Shoko grabbed an unlit cigarette from her inner pocket, using it to point at Shion. “But I chose not to.”

“Shoko, you- ow !”

Shoko pulled Shion’s cheek with her free hand before letting it go. “Relax, I’m responsible enough to keep on top of my medical reports, and I’m not gonna smoke.” Shoko pointed at the fire extinguisher, knowing Shion wouldn’t hesitate to use it on her. “Besides, Watanabe-sensei is covering for me, which means I actually get to take a break.”

“I forgot that he was here.” Shion rubbed her cheek to numb the pain. “I thought he was stationed permanently at Kyoto now?”

“That was supposed to be the deal since I got my license, but something changed. I don’t know much about the details other than he’s going to be here for two months.” Shoko shrugged. “Hey, as long as I get more sleep at night, I’m fine with whatever.”

“That would explain the lack of eyebags on you.” Shion blurted, causing Shoko to pinch her friend’s cheeks again.

“Anyways," Shoko let go of Shion’s cheek once more. "You seem to be missing Satoru after just a few days."

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shion frowned slightly. “As you said, it’s only been five days since he left. He’ll be back from the mission in no time.”

“Then can you explain that ?”

With her unlit cigarette, Shoko pointed at something next to Shion. Sitting next to her was a soft-looking white floppy long-eared floppy bunny, relaxing on a stack of books.

Shion found it weird that the character was in fact a puppy, and not a rabbit. This information had caused a near-heated debate with one of the die-hard Sanrio fans at the same store. She could have sworn they're ready to kill her on the spot.

There’s nothing wrong with the said rabbit puppy plush toy. The signature black gakuran of JujuTech that the doll wore was a pain in the ass to hand stitch as she didn’t have a sewing machine. As for the blindfold, it was supposed to be white bandages, but she had leftover fabric from the uniform she made and-

Oh.

Shion shook her head in denial before turning her attention back to Shoko as the resident doctor awaited her explanation. “I still don’t see how this adorable toy correlates to me missing that long-lost member of three blind mice.”

“Gojo is right, you’re the walking definition of what ‘oblivious’ means.” Shoko lightly chuckled, seeing her friend’s face bloom into red. “However, that trait of yours is what makes two dumbasses pay special attention to you back in high school.”

Shion cleared her throat, seizing the opportunity to change the topic. “I assume you’re not here to reminisce about our high school days.”

"Nope," Shoko replied. “ I just want to check on you. I’ve been thinking about that confession you made last year.”

"Why now?" Shion crossed her arms, suddenly guarded.

“Time is considered to be a luxury for us, especially in this world.” Shoko paused for a second, carefully thinking about her next words as her index finger flicked the unlit cigarette. “Is it still the same? You’re still loving him because you think you have to?”

What had she said that night? Shion couldn’t remember, thanks to all that alcohol turning her mopey and shit, making her spill unspoken truths lies. The doctor didn’t have to take her confession so seriously; they were just drunken ramblings, and not meant to be accepted at face value.

Did Shion love Gojo because–as she had said–she feels like she has to, because he deserves it? Or did she truly fall for him?

She really wished that finding the answers for those questions would be easy, but it wasn’t. She blamed her lack of experience with love and romance. How was she supposed to know if she loved someone? It always seemed so simple in books--but despite her collection of romance novels, she had yet to truly understand it.

Some said that they knew they were in love with someone when they accepted their imperfections. They just learned to tolerate them.

Others said that that love was a gut feeling; something indescribable but recognizable as one grew older and wiser with experience. That definition certainly didn’t help at all.

Gojo’s warmth…could she use that as her basis for understanding? Throughout the years she had known him, whenever he held her hand or hugged her, she felt safe and secure. As if he’s telling her everything would be alright.

No, it’s stupid to think that a mere touch could change everything she understood about herself. Maybe this love was purely platonic? After all, despite his hijinks, she respected him both as a person and as a sorcerer.

Shion fidgeted in her chair before placing her hand on her chest. “I do know the love I held for him is nothing more than admiration and respect. Afterall, I don’t deserve to be love and held in such-”

“Can you just stop for a sec there?” Shoko’s question interrupted Shion, the tone in her voice was laced with frustration. “Honestly, don’t you find it tiring to be so pathetic and weak-minded?”

Shoko took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair before exhaling.

“You know…” The doctor crossed her arms. “He can and will scorch anybody and anything that hurts you.”

The words made Shion feel time had significantly slowed. What Shoko is saying couldn’t be true, right? Of course it's not! The idea that Satoru Gojo would forsake his dreams and ideals for someone like her? That sounded like pure blasphemy. She wasn’t worth the trouble.

And what if it were true? If anything, it would make her hate herself more than she already did.

“That’s not true.” Shion shook her head frantically; a shaky breath was released next. “He just hasn't found a reason to end our marriage. A special someone…”

“Really?” Shoko raised her brow, unwittingly mocking her friend. “Look me in the eye and say you’ll be fine if he falls in love with someone else.”

Shion gulped down her nervousness, steeling her nerves as she held Shoko’s gaze. However, when she opened her mouth, nothing came out, and the long-awaited words lodged in her throat as her breathing became shallow.

Something crept into the special grade sorceress, and this ‘something’ was all too familiar to her: fear. The fear that everything she held dear would disappear from her grasp, all because she dared to acknowledge it.

“How long will you still deny-”

“Shut up!”

Shion’s raised voice cut through Shoko's question.

The distressed woman hugged herself, digging her nails into her arms and shutting her eyes close. “I don’t want to hear any of it!” Shion said. “It’s not true! I don’t fucking deserve it! He deserved so much better!”

In a split second, the atmosphere became thick and heavy with tension. As Shion repeated those words like a mantra to herself, Shoko distracted herself with her own thoughts.

To be honest, it was none of her business. Shoko didn’t even like to meddle in someone else’s affairs. However, after the stupidest choice that her friend made six years ago, Shoko decided to be neutral.

Yes, the higher-ups were a huge pain in her ass, but thinking about how to traverse through the messy and complex web of politics in the hidden world of Jujutsu was too much for her. She already had patients and cursed spirits to worry about.

Thankfully, her role as a practitioner of reverse cursed technique saved her from the higher-ups breathing down her neck. And, to prevent future headaches or raise suspicion, she kept Gojo at arm's length.

Call her selfish for being neutral, but isn’t everyone else? There’s no such thing as a selfless individual. Sometimes, a “random act of kindness” could be nothing more than an ego trip.

…so why was she sticking her nose into Shion’s marriage?

Shoko would say this as many times as she needed to. It was tiring to watch Shion and Gojo’s whole charade: the two of them trying to be oblivious, denying themselves for their own sakes.

Fuck, she needed a drink. She didn’t give a shit that it was still early afternoon.

A constant buzzing of Shoko’s phone severed her line of thought. With her free hand, she picked up the call.

“Hello? Yeah, I’ll be there in five.” Shoko shoved her phone back into her lab coat. “Watanabe called, and he needs me for something.”

The sound of her friend’s voice broke Shion from her trance. Her head snapped back up, meeting Shoko’s unfazed expression.

“Shoko, I’m-”

“Don’t apologize.” Shoko cut her off, getting up from her seat. “I pushed too hard when you’re clearly not ready to talk about it. I’ll make up to you the next time we meet.”

The clicking sounds of Shoko’s heels echoed throughout the library. With every step she made, the sound became fainter and fainter until silence had become Shion’s companion once more. She returned to stare at the seemingly endless shower of pink petals.

Somehow, the color had become dull and lifeless to her.

---------------------------------

Before she left the library with the plush toy, Shion got a call from Yaga to pay a quick visit to his office. She really hoped it’s not about the mysterious holes found in Tsukamoto’s brown fabric body. Plenty of students fell victim to it and she knew Nanami was one of those unfortunate individuals.

Without much to anyone’s surprise, many sought for revenge on the cursed corpse, but Yaga was the only obstacle that prevented them from doing so.

"A crow came to my office with Alex's request attached to it." Yaga handed Shion a scroll. "He specifically asked for you to join him on a mission."

Shion loosened the tie around the paper before briefly scanning the contents. "Is something wrong with it? You don't usually hand-deliver my missions unless it requires extra precaution."

"Call it a gut feeling, but…" Yaga picked up the felting needle and started working on his cursed corpse's torso. "I think something bad is going to happen with this one. I suggest you think carefully before accepting Alex’s request.”

It’s been a while since she last heard that name. Alex was an Interpol agent who worked part time as a 1st Grade Sorcerer. He mostly dealt with international cases related to curses, or suspected curses. They had last spoken about two or three months ago, after Alex had enlisted her help in Egypt.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME WE’RE GONNA DEAL WITH A FUCKING BOOBY TRAP!” Shion yelled.

As the duo ran along the steep-yet-narrow hallway, a giant boulder rolled down behind them. Their mission was supposed to be straightforward–search this tomb to investigate a ‘sickness’ plaguing a nearby village.

She hated the heat, the constant feeling of sand in her mouth and feet, and the camels kept spitting at her even though she did nothing to gain their ire.

But the trip became 10x worse than it already was when Alex decided to take a rest. By leaning on the pyramid’s wall, he had triggered this comical chase scene.

“YOU SAID IT’S A SIMPLE MISSION!”

“I THOUGHT THAT MUMMY SHIT ISN’T REAL!” Alex retorted, seemingly about to lose his breath. "ALSO, AREN'T YOU A SPECIAL GRADE SORCERER!? WHY DON'T YOU PROVE IT!?"

While turning sharply, Shion reached for the handle of her dagger as she skidded across the limestone concrete floor, facing the incoming boulder that could have easily flattened her into a pancake.

"SHUT UP!"

She closed her eyes and opened them, her eyes turned seafoam colored as she swung her weapon towards it, digging her dagger into the solid rock surface. In a split second, the huge boulder broke into multiple pieces before into fine dust.

She thought she could finally have peace in her husband’s office. However, seeing Yaga-sensei surrounded with his own cute creations, it left Shion a question of her own as she stared at the wooden ceiling, mindlessly playing with the doll’s floppy white ears.

‘What can I do after all of this ends?’

She never thought much about what her life would be after the war with the cursed spirits ended. It’s a fleeting dream for sure, but there’s always an end to everything. There’s a small seed of hope in her that she would live long enough to see that day.

Happy ending? Unlikely. She’d seen so much shit that it felt impossible for her to keep going. Shion had ended enough lives to hear the voices who condemned her to death. She closed her eyes, unconsciously relieving that memory again.

A girl no younger than 13 with black hair made a trail of red roses as she wielded her blade, tainting the snowy grounds of the compound.

The pleas for mercy fell on deaf her ears as she drove her katana into her targets. Why would they bother to ask for forgiveness? Weren’t they bad people? She didn’t expect them to regret anything they did.

The thirst for revenge clouded her judgment, ignoring the cold, lifeless eyes of her victims. They would answer for her parent’s blood with their own.

Her cold fingers warmed as a crimson-colored metallic smelling liquid painted them. Was it from the mother who wept over her dead children? Or was it from the elderly couple she struck down?

At this point, Death would be her constant companion. And even if she wanted to, there’s no turning back as she was already knee-deep into her path of vengeance.

The people she slaughtered like cattle were her mere stepping-stones towards her own goal.

Shion’s eyes shot wide open, breaking free from her memory when she felt something vibrating in her pocket. She fished it out, and her phone lit up with her husband's caller ID, and an incoming request for a video call.

She accepted the call, and the screen of her phone changed to show her husband’s stupidly handsome face. She questioned the acceleration of her heartbeat upon realizing he didn’t have his usual white bandages, leaving his face bare. She’d seen his beautiful blue eyes countless times, but why now?

“Miss me that much?” Gojo raised his brow at his wife’s stoicism. “You usually pick up my calls after 3 rings, honey.”

This unexpected pet name sent color to Shion’s pale cheeks. “If you called me to prove your point, I'd hang up on you.”

“Wait!” Her husband loudly exclaimed. “ I just wanted to hear how things are going so far. It’s pretty busy around here. I’ll be out for another two weeks. ”

14 more days? That’s too long for him to be away. Then again, it’s not like everyone could be a sorcerer which meant more work for her husband. Would it be alright to be a little selfish, to ask for more of his time?

Masking her disappointment, Shion let out a small sigh. “Where do you want me to start?”

“From the very beginning.”

The conversation between the couple was supposed to be a quarter of an hour but it went beyond that. Surprisingly, Gojo didn’t interrupt her once with his usual snide remarks. It’s almost as if he called her to listen to her voice. This idea almost made her blush on the spot as her heart beat faster.

Shion let out a small gasp, remembering something at the last second. “Also, Watanabe-sensei shot Tsukamoto dead.”

“The teddy bear with boxing gloves?” Gojo asked, watching Shion nodded. “Save me a front row seat–I wanna be there when it happens.”

“When what happens?”

“When Yaga-sensei suplexes Watanabe-sensei.”

Now, it would be an interesting sight to see.

“Satoru,” Shion called him, but instead of warmth, a dreadful feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”

Gojo’s lax expression straightened as he picked up the seriousness of Shion’s tone.

“We’ve been married almost six years, Satoru,” Shion started, pausing for a moment. “And I‘ve been thinking about your answer that day. Is it still the same? Marrying me because you have to?”

The day after her trial and announcement of her engagement, a question formed in her head despite the influence of anesthesia in her system. She thought that the drug had given her the courage to ask her husband. So much of that day was foggy, yet somehow his words became engraved deep in her memory.

Back then, his answer solidified her belief that her married life would be miserable.

“Why do you want to marry me, Gojo?”

“I could let them have your head.” Gojo grabbed a lock of her black hair, playing it between his fingers. “But…you possess one-of-a-kind technique. That would become one of my regrets, if I didn’t intervene.”

Gojo pressed his lips against her hair, the disgust churning Shion’s stomach.

“The wedding gift I want from my lovely soon-to-be wife is… don’t die on me.”

Instead of an immediate response, the astounding silence was enough to make Shion’s blood run cold. Although Gojo’s expression remained unchanged, she saw the uneasiness in his eyes.

‘What are we?’

Three simple words were enough to change everything she had with Gojo. She wanted to ask that question, and resisting the temptation grew harder and harder with each passing day–the risk was too heavy to jeopardize what they had.

And look at her selfish curiosity brought to her. She almost ruined what she had with him because of his silent response. That was enough for Shion. Yet why did she feel such disappointment? Did she truly hope his answer would be different?

“Shion-”

"Please forget about this conversation." Shion bit her inner cheek, preventing herself from frowning. "It's unfair for you to be asked on the spot when you have other priorities to worry about."

Another moment of stillness passed between them, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable type of silence, like she had experienced with Shoko earlier.

Gojo chose "Let's talk about it when I get back, okay?"

Fearing her voice would fail her, Shion nodded. Without anything else to say, Gojo ended the call, returning her phone's screen back to her wallpaper. It’s her pre wedding photo. She couldn’t recall the fine details on how she came to agree with the decision.

However, she noticed something different in Gojo. As far as she remembered, this photo dated back when things were so damn complicated and difficult between them, causing a thick strain in their relationship.

Yet, the softness she found in his gaze towards her told her otherwise.

Why was he looking at her like that? As if…she was everything to him?

---------------------------------

One late evening, a lone special grade sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, finally returned home after eight long days with barely enough sleep. His mission ended earlier than expected, but hey, at least he could finally see his lovely wife sleep properly in his comfy bed.

“I’m home!”

After taking his shoes off near the doorstep, he walked towards the living room with a spring in his step. However, his expectations fell shortly after seeing a messy patch of green hair on top of a bespectacled man’s head.

“Oh, you’re home.” Watanabe folded the newspaper in half. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“Watanabe-sensei?” Gojo knitted his brows. “What are you doing here in my house? Where are Tsumiki and Megumi?”

“First, your wife asked me to look after them while she’s on a mission. Second, they’re asleep.” The school doctor rolled his neck before rubbing the nicotine patch on his upper left arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to school.”

“And Shion?”

“What about her, Gojo?" Watanabe's eyes widened a bit upon remembering. “She did tell me she’s going home with you in tow three days ago.”

Gojo resisted the urge to frown in confoundment upon hearing what Watanabe said. As much as he remembered, there was nothing indicating that his wife would be coming home with him. Maybe she said that to quell the children’s worries? After all, he hadn’t given them a clear idea as to when he’d be back.

So, his wife contacted Watanabe three days ago? Had something happened whilst he’s away? Nothing came to mind. Probably some sort of mix-up in communication. Still, he had a bad feeling.

Watanabe blinked a couple of times. “Anything else?”

“I need you to look after the kids again.”

“Huh? I’m a doctor, not a babysitter.”

“I’ll tell Yaga-sensei what happened to Tsukamoto.”

“How did you-forget it.” Watanabe sighed heavily, scratching his head in the process. “Your influence on her truly shows. I can’t believe I’m still here, babysitting… You better cover my ass if Ieiri comes looking for me.”

Watanabe took his spot again on the couch as Gojo made way to his bedroom. He switched on the lights, illuminating his room. He lied down in bed and called his wife’s phone. The phone on the other end started ringing just as he put it to his ear. He didn’t realize how much he missed her until he heard Shion’s voicemail.

Gojo kept calling and calling until his frustration took over. Where the fuck is she? He couldn’t sense the wedding ring or even her dreaded cursed energy. He cursed underneath his breath before getting out of bed.

His mood improved when his eyes landed on a long, white floppy eared puppy. It was sitting comfortably on top of Shion’s bookshelf while wearing clothes that resembled his uniform. Instead of the white bandages, a black blindfold covered its eyes.

"Why, hello…" Gojo grinned, picking up the stuffed plush toy. "Is this supposed to be me?"

Even though Shion denied missing him, Gojo felt the effort she put into making this handicraft. “We’ve been married almost six years, Satoru,” Shion started, pausing for a moment. “And I‘ve been thinking about your answer that day. Is it still the same? You’ve stayed married to me because you feel that you have to?” Gojo frowned. How could he forget that conversation? When his wife had never before questioned anything about their marriage…

Technically speaking, his answer hadn’t changed. He only married her to save her from getting her head chopped off. But if things were different, maybe he would marry her out of love, or maybe he didn’t. Instead, he would find another alternative to see her alive and breathing.

He put the doll back where it was and began browsing through Shion’s mini library. If he couldn’t get through to her himself, maybe he could find some sort of clue in her books. He pulled down his bandages and started browsing through her collection.

After almost half an hour, Gojo took note of the central themes in some of the books he briefly read. And, he wondered if it had something to do with him.

“If only I met you sooner.” …People tend to weave this idea into various stories– romantic or not, it was always a hit with the audience. Despite Shion seemingly being a fan of this trope, Gojo didn’t see the appeal of it.

As he grew older and wiser with time, he understood why this futile fantasy often played into stories. Gojo believed its popularity was fueled by self-doubt, as humans tended to be fickle with their opinions on relationships. He could imagine the reason behind Shion’s fascination towards it. Was it because of how lonely she felt in the years before she met him? Or did she sense the solitude in him?

Putting the book away, he pulled out his phone and noticed a text notification from Shion. The tension in his shoulders didn't leave. Why did he feel uneasiness from it?

In the picture, a disheveled woman was sitting alone, seemingly her arms were behind the chair she’s sitting on. She slumped over the chair with her hair hanging like curtains across her face. Above her was a single dimly lit lightbulb, illuminating her tired features and the black silk dress hung on her body. Splotches of red and purple littered across her arms and legs.

But the temperature in his body rose in anger and the bedroom dropped to zero degrees when he saw text:

“You’ll raise hell from the bottomless pit just for her, right?”

-----------------------------

Special thanks to zark or xerox-candybar for beta reading this chapter because as always, she did a wonderful job.

Also, for those who are up to date with the manga....Yeah...Since Gege chose to end the year with a bang, I might as well slammed the door open into the new year with a nice cliffhanger. ^^

In addition, here's Alex's Character Info: Character Profile: Alexander Atotsugi “Alex” Kim Enrollment Method: Family Lineage Hobbies: Collecting Antiques Favorite Food: Hae-jang guk (hangover soup) Least Favorite Food: Kimchi (can’t handle spice - his mother was purely disappointed in him) Cause of Stress: Dirty stuff - His mother is Korean American while his father is a former member of the Kamo Clan. His second name, Atotsugi, means "heir" as his father wants him to be the next clan leader. - Supposed to be next in line for clan head, but he has no interest in it. Because of his rejection, he earned the stitches on his face because his head was literally split into two from the family’s assassination attempt. - Met Mei Mei in a clan meeting between their families (after his clan paid him enough to make an appearance), only to find out he's her senior at Jujutech.

Hopefully, my next update wont be after 4 months as my life will be a bit busy after graduation this month. So, for those who were waiting, I apologize and thank you for being patient. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll see you guys whenever the next ch.

#jjk fanfics #gojo x reader #gojo x oc #gojo angst #jjk x reader

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Saturday 11 July 1840

8 10/..

11 5/..

Kothévi [Kothevi].

SH:7/ML/E/24/0149

strawberries in the woods – none to be found – at least the employé had sent, and he offered us (gladly accepted) a guide du pays for tomorrow, - to shew us the glacier, the perte de la rivière and the chateau de Kuaratsikhé – at the Selenia Sak-kāh-ow Dubois ii. 398. 6v. from Oni, is the highest mountain – not far from Outsèré – and in this mountain a cavern that none knows the extent of – an Eristaf 100 years spent a week in exploring it but could not succeed in finding the bottom of i t- took fright and came away – our princess glad to see us – the only travellers she had seen – a very poor little place that our princess lives in – a sort of hall anteroom, and then the little salon, and a little room opening into with a carpeted divan for sleeping and on this the man made the tea – fair when we came away at 5 25/.. – sauntered to the huge walnut tree 8 yards circumference a foot from the ground? 3 or 4 great trunks 1 prink from the principal one at 8 or 9ft. from the ground or more – never saw such a walnut tree before – meant to have gone to the old ruined castle perhaps about a verst off but it began to rain again at 5 ¾ and came in – then till now 7 ½ wrote all but the 1st 9 p. 288 lines of the last page and so far of this – the older brother of our prince of Thursday died in prison at Tiflis was taken by Pasquévitch in Turkey, in the rebellion – the brother (our prince) was sent to Siberia for 10 years (according to Georges’ interpretation) but being found to have had nothing to do with the rebellion was allowed to return home – dinner at 8 ¾ to 9 ¾ tea and bread and butter and part of the rice the Cuisinier cooked and that A- boiled up afterwards and finished the plate of mulberries of this morning and ate 2 figs – copy the following 4 p.m. from slip of paper A- so impatient when I say the least thing promised her to do my best to utter no more about anything I simply said I would not send out a large lump piece of sugar to the cuisinier it was sso tempting “if I am to have the management do pray let me” said she crossly I will try not to speak again unless you ask me “well I shall be very much obliged to you”

remember [crossed line] Rainy day – then read a little till now 10 25/.. at which hour R17 ½° and F71° -

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 1 year

Text

WRITING ADVENT CALENDAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Day 25

Prompt: A past Christmas taking place in someone's childhood

Aka: Sunshine and Moonshine Christmas flashback

Read on ao3 in the link about or under the cut

Christmas meant magic, happiness and cozy times. That's at least what they had seen on TV.

For Ámbar and Luna, Christmas was everything but those things. It started with Sharon waking them up at 6 in the morning and getting them to the biggest bathroom in the house. In there, she showered them, brushed their hair and clothed them.

Right now, Luna was sitting on a chair with a towel around her body, watching her wet hair drip. Meanwhile, Ámbar was sitting in the bathtub as Sharon showered her hair. When they were younger, this was okay, but now Luna was almost 9 and Ámbar had just turned 10. At this age, they normally were showering themselves, but for Christmas, Sharon insisted.

"I normally let you have the freedom, but frankly, you're not doing a good job and on Christmas you need to look more than presentable."

She then turned off the water and handed Ámbar a towel. Ámbar hugged it tightly around her body, wanting to cover up as much as possible. Sharon scoffed at this, as it "wasn't anything they hadn't seen before", but Ámbar wanted less and less to expose much of anything. She sat down next to Luna, who Sharon now had started to brush the hair on.

"Ow! Ow!"

"Stop making noises, Luna."

"But it hurts!"

"Nonsense, you're just being overdramatic."

Sharon was always very harsh with the brushing. It always felt like she was gonna pull off all of their hair. Sometimes, the girls wished she did pull off their hairs so she learned to brush gentler.

After brushing, Sharon tied Luna's hair up in a ponytail, making a bow holding it up. She tied it rather tightly so it would stick, but Luna felt like her head was thumping. Then Sharon did the same procedure on Ámbar, brushing and setting up her hair in a ponytail with a bow. Ámbar scrunched her face up getting brushed, but tried to keep it together.

Then the girls noticed Sharon picking up a hairspray. They took each other's hands, closed their eyes and inhaled deeply as she started spraying their hairs.

After that, they got their clothes. Luna got a green dress and Ámbar a red. They also got white nylon stockings, which Luna found to be very itchy, but she couldn't complain.

Next up was Christmas breakfast. Usually this was fun. The food was good and the girls got ginger bread to eat afterwards, something Sharon didn't like because they left crumbs everywhere. But the girls ate it carefully.

After breakfast, it was time to open gifts. If you'd think the girls got a mountain of gifts just because they were rich, you'd be wrong, They got one gift each from Sharon and it was never something they wished for.

Luna got a porcelain doll with giant, staring eyes. Sure, she liked playing with dolls, but her favorites were the soft, stuffed raggy dolls. This doll she found really creepy and it felt like it was going to murder her.

Ámbar got a diary, which was fine, but she knew there wasn't that of a good intention behind it. Sharon had commented during the past year that she found Ámbar to "be much quieter than before" and that she "seemed to hide things". This diary wasn't to write out her thoughts and emotions, it was for Sharon to secretly read when Ámbar wasn't around. Ámbar swore to never write in it.

Yet, the girls smiled and thanked her for their gifts.

"Occupy yourselves," Sharon said, "I need a drink."

As soon as she left, the girls let out breaths they unintentionally had held in.

"I'm never gonna write in this diary," Ámbar said, "She's just gonna read it."

"But if you don't write in it, she'll wonder why you haven't," Luna pointed out.

"True. Maybe I could write subliminal messages to mess with her."

"And I could use this doll as a villain when I'm playing. Or leave it around the house, occasionally moving it, like an elf on the shelf. Just to scare people."

The girls giggled as they pictured someone getting scared, like Sharon. But most of all, Rey. Sure, they wanted to scare Sharon, but she still had an authority and the girls still felt like they wanted her to not be mad at them. However, they loved teasing and bullying Rey. They just needed something in their lives to have control over.

"Here you go, girls!" Amanda said as she walked in with two glasses of coca cola, "My treat!"

Amanda is anyone knew how Christmas could be for the girls, and decided to do the little she could to lighten it.

"Amanda, wait!" Luna said. She walked up with a piece of folded paper. "We wanted to buy you something, but we aren't allowed to go to the city. So, we drew something."

"I drew, Luna colored," Ámbar explained.

Amanda opened the folded paper and looked at their drawing. She smiled. "Wow! You two did this for me?"

"Yep!" the two said in unison.

"Thank you very much!"

Until dinner, the girls were allowed to do whatever they wanted, as long as they weren't too disruptive. Since dinner was so big, they only had sandwiches for lunch, which they ate in the kitchen without Sharon's knowledge. Everyone in the staff (except for Rey, maybe) wanted to make the girls feel happy at Christmas, so the chef happily let them be in the kitchen.

They then watched some Christmas specials on TV. Though, all of a sudden, Luna felt like she needed to stand up and dance. She was quite an active child and sitting down for more than half an hour was an accomplishment for her. In fact, sometimes she didn't properly listen to people because she was so focused on sitting still. But now, she wanted to get up and dance. She went over to the stereo, putting on a Christmas CD.

As the music started, she started flapping her hands and smiled. Then she started dancing.

Ámbar grinned as she watched her. She was bopping along to the song where she sat.

Though, just as Luna was in the happiest mood, spinning and jumping around, she bumped into Sharon.

"What is the meaning of this?!" She instantly turned off the stereo as Luna's smile disappeared and she now felt guilt and anxiety.

"I was just dancing..." she said.

"The music was way too loud and you looked ridiculous! And your ponytail almost got loose!"

Her ponytail was not even near getting loose with how tightly Sharon made it, but Luna couldn't know that.

"Sorry..."

"I hope you'll behave. Now it's dinner."

Christmas dinner was always very silent. Sharon didn't allow for any small talk, unless it was to ask to pass something across the table.

Luna sat in shame and guilt, thinking a lot about not talking. Do not talk, it's not allowed. We are quiet at dinner. Do not speak. No one wants you to speak.

She focused so hard on this that she barely ate anything.

Ámbar knew that now when Sharon already had become mad at Luna, it was best for her to lay low. A tiny mistake could mean that hell broke loose.

The dinner was tedious and tense and the girls were so relieved when Sharon finally said they could be dismissed. Now they decided to do something fun. It was a sunny day out, so they had decided to go out and roller skate. They knew that it was a good way to relieve some stress.

The only problem was that they couldn't use their helmets while wearing these ponytails. So, they either had to skate without helmets or take out the ponytail. Ámbar decided on the second option.

She sat on the porch, getting ready to get her skates on, as she felt the freedom of her hair no longer held up. Now it was just to put the helmet on.

"Ámbar!"

Oh no.

"Ámbar, look at me when I'm speaking to you!"

No, I don't want to look at you.

Ámbar did not want to see Sharon's angry face. When she turned around, she only saw Luna, who was a little slower getting her skates, and still hadn't taken out her ponytail. She stood by the front door and watched the scene that was playing out.

"Why did you ruin your hair?" Sharon asked.

"I didn't ruin it. I couldn't wear a helmet when I had a ponytail. Do you want me to not have a helmet?"

"I don't like your attitude!"

"Okay."

That answer was supposed to just be affirmative. Ámbar didn't know what to answer, so she took the one she saw as the "I heard what you said and I confirm I heard". However, Sharon did not take it like that. Instantly, she snatched Ámbar's roller skates.

"Amanda!"

"Yes, Miss Benson?"

"Go put these in the trash, please."

"No!" Ámbar cried.

"Yes, Miss Benson." Amanda said and walked away. At the same time, Luna ran upstairs, in case Sharon decided to throw away her skates too just because she was there.

"You're not going out today," Sharon hissed, "You're going to bed."

"What? But it's 18:30."

"Maybe you can think about your behavior after sleeping."

Ámbar lied in bed, her tears streaming down her face. She couldn't go to sleep. She hated everything. She hated how things had turned out.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Luna came in. She was now wearing a pajamas.

"I just wanted to say I put my doll in Sharon's closet."

Ámbar smiled slightly, "Good." Sharon deserved to be startled by a doll when she opened her closet. Then she got an idea. "Hey Luna, do you wanna sleep together tonight?"

Luna nodded, and in a few seconds she joined Ámbar in bed. Ámbar felt like they both needed some comfort.

Then someone else knocked on the door. Luna hid under the blanket, in case it was Sharon.

It wasn't Sharon. It was Amanda.

"Ámbar... I just wanted to say..." She held up her skates, "...I couldn't throw them away."

Ámbar lit up. "Thank you...!"

"Sch... don't tell your godmother, ok?"

"I won't."

"Good. Good night, Ámbar."

"Good night."

"And good night, Luna."

Luna curiously peeked up from the covers.

"Good night."

Ámbar then turned off the light on her nightstand.

Maybe Christmas wasn't very fun, but it was good that she and Luna had each other. They could always give each other comfort when things get dark.

#LAST ADVENT CALENDAR CHAPTER!!#writing advent calendar #soy luna

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the-deeds-to-shibden · 2 years

Text

Saturday 11 July 1840

[up at] 8 10/..

[to bed at] 11 5/..

slept very tolerably on my rickety table – one of our baggage covers (feutre) and my burca for bed, and my chelat for couverture – finish but dullish morning which turned to rain about 9 and till about (after) noon – then fine but the mist hanging lowish down the hills – breakfast over at 10 1/2 and at that hour Reaumur 19° – the rain has cooled the air and (now at 12 20/.. p.m.) Reaumur 17 3/4° and I have just written the last 8 lines of page 289 and so far – a boy brought some time ago a plate of cherries and ditto of mulberries – about 1 pound of each – gave him ./10 copper – très content – 10 nice trout one abasse boiled for breakfast of which Ann ate 5 – I did not take any – wish to get my bowels right first no motion since Wednesday morning took a little cream of tartar in a glass of tea last night on finishing dinner – an hour rubbing out pencil of rough book – then reading Dubois – at 2 1/4 rain again and very heavy now at 2 35/.. and pouring thro’ the pretty octagon dome of our salon in 2 places, and into the little room the rain entering in 3 places – Thunder at 3 5/.. and the rain heavy as ever and then obliged to move all my things (burca-bed etc.) from off my table the rain reaching that too – just fair at 3 35/.. – raining again at 3 55/.. and at reading and making notes for our route from here to Oni till 4 1/4 when the princess our neighbour in one of the small houses (the one close by and owner of the cuisine) sent to ask us to tea – the semovar it seems is hers – the water was just boiling for our own tea – sent it home and promised to go to tea in 10 minutes – went at 4 3/4 and came away at 5 25/.. sat 10 minutes before tea came – 2 small glasses each – nothing to eat – the prince not at home but an intelligent employé (Georgian) who takes the duties of his place when away, interpreted for us – the princess and her friend (Georgian – wife of another employé) speak nothing but Georgian – she is 2nd wife – 1st wife was an Englishwoman, wife! of an Englishman who came from Tabriz when the Russians took it, and, in passing thro’ Tiflis, left his wife there who married our prince and died 7 years ago leaving a son and daughter – the latter dead – the former aetatis 11 at the école des cadets à St. Petersburg – the employé wrote the name Prince Josuf (Joseph) Dimitrief Djavakoff – Ratchinskii natchalnik commandant here tho’ according to George of a military rank below captain – has only been here about 6 months – their house not yet quite montée – all their things not arrived – but la princesse has another semovar besides the one lent to us – pretty her son aetatis 5 a pretty boy – asked names of principal mountains – all called after the villages they are nearest to – 2 roads from here to Baragone – one to the right – the other to the left – we to take that to the right to see Kŏo-ăr-rast-sīk-hé, 10 versts from here the old chateau of the kings of Imeretia – the widow of the last still living at St. Petersburg – krepost now and 6 pieces of cannon there – the palace was at Koutaïs – Khotévi the capital of the district containing 4,000 houses and 101 villages at beginning and including Nikortsminda and the villages of Ghébi and Glola – mineral springs at the latter – A stone like a diamond that one can light a pipe by, found at the mountain of Outsèré 10 versts from Oni the iron mines are at Tzédissé 15 versts from Oni where good cheese and butter and barley bread etc. can be bought – nothing to be bought here without addressing oneself to the princess – the people only make what they want for themselves – she civilly asked if we wanted anything – much obliged – thought not – would ask her for whatever we might want – she had sent to seek strawberries in the woods – none to be found – at least the employé had sent; and he offered us a guide (gladly accepted) du pays for tomorrow, – to shew us the glacier, the perte de la riviere and the chateau de Kuaratsikhé – at the Selenia Sak-kāh-ow Dubois, ii. 398 6 versts from Oni, is the highest mountain – not far from Outsèré – and in this mountain a cavern that none knows the extent of – an eristaf 100 years spent a week in exploring it but could not succeed in finding the bottom of it – took fright and came away – our princess glad to see us – the only travellers she had seen – a very poor little place that our princess lives in – a sort of hall anteroom, and then the little salon, and a little room opening into with a carpeted diwan for sleeping and on this the man made the tea – fair when we came away at 5 25/.. – sauntered to the huge walnut tree 8 yards circumference a foot from the ground? 3 or 4 great trunks sprink /spring/ from the principal one at 8 or 9 feet from the ground or more – never saw such a walnut tree before – meant to have gone to the old ruined castle perhaps about a verst off but it began to rain again at 5 3/4 and came in – then till now 7 1/2 wrote all but the 1st 9 lines of the last page and so far of this – the older brother of our prince of Thursday died in prison at Tiflis was taken by Pasquévitch in Turkey, in the rebellion – the brother (our prince) was sent to Siberia for 10 years (according to George’s interpretation) but being found to have had nothing to do with the rebellion was allowed to return home – dinner at 8 3/4 to 9 3/4 tea and bread and butter and part of the rice the Cuisinier cooked and that Ann boiled up afterwards and finished the plate of mulberries of this morning and ate 2 figs – copy the following from slip of paper 4 p.m. A- [Ann] so impatient when I say the least thing promised her to do my best to utter no more about anything I simply said I would not send out a large lump piece of sugar to the cuisinier it was so tempting ‘if I am to have the management do pray let me’ said she crossly I will try not to speak again unless you ask me ‘well I shall be very much obliged to you’ remember Rainy day – then read a little till now 10 25/.. at which hour Reaumur 17 1/2° and Fahrenheit 71° –

Anne’s marginal notes:

Khotévi.

Prince Joseph Dimitrief Djavakoff

District of Khotévi 101 villages and 4,000 houses

Chateau of kings of Imeretia.

great cavern.

page 288

WYAS pages: SH:7/ML/E/24/0148 SH:7/ML/E/24/0149

#anne lister #ann walker #anne lister code breaker #gentleman jack #diary1840unannotated #russianempire1840 #georgia1840

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divorce · 15 days

Text

clarifying post

listen, i'm sorry to shove gofundme links in everyone's face after not being around since 2016 -- i just wake up in a tent every day and think, "fuck!!"

let me just say, "i don't expect anyone from tumblr to donate to me" i keep reading posts with 30,000+ notes that are like, 'yeah yall its not much but lets just keep shifting the small amount of wealth that we have access to around cause that's all we really have #mutualaid" i don't care about that, that's not what i'm asking

all i need is for signal boost and someone to act as 'legitimate person' between me and the public, to help carry me to the top right now i'm only committed to raising my energy to 10-25% tops. i'm setting a low bar for myself. that is why my 'content', its all horse-shit, i literally take a nap most days when im on there cause no one's watching, so if it was the most impressive talent i have to showcase or bs it doesn't matter... i'm telling you, deaf ears, the void, audience, impressions, sorted, w/e i'm going up to 100% in the next 3 years i never thought i would be alive this long, as a celebration of my life & Art while in the prime of my life, in the seat of my consciousness, i owe it to myself to perform at my best ; i am now progressing towards making the best art of my life, it would be great

if while at my peak i wasn't still forced to pack up every 3-6 months and shuffle around unhoused, unwashed, unfed, with no protection, exposed to the elements, with no relatives, income, or connections.

i've had people successfully raise funds for me in the past; alone however i do not have any 'social media' so i cannot 'share it', i need 'you guys' ie someone from the internet to take over for me on the 'social media campaign :D yahoo!' side for me, i am an extreme introvert hikki that does ceremonial magick, religious prostrations, lots of bowing, who was neglected at birth ~I CANNOT ADVOCATE FOR MYSELF WORTH SHIT~

I have a house, let me tell you about My House... My Uncle Jim lives in My House, in 2006 when my grandma was sick and in hospice my uncle Jim snuck in and had her sign over the will to the family house which was supposed to go to me and my cousin, the next generation, but Jim took over the deed, and sat in My House, forcing 3 of his brothers out (they died, my dad included). I sat homeless in the streets & my amputee cousin has to work and rent, while Jim sits in My House smoking crack & meth and being a nazi pedophile making 'ball' jokes. Jim has a piece of paper that says "I bought this house for $1 from my mom :P", and I have no such paper, so I have no legal recourse to take back the home from the person who killed my father and my two favorite uncles and made my life worse... My mom also bought my a house 3 years ago. She 100% planned, visited, bought, a home, in front of me, and then said... "You are homeless", and that I "need to work". I think, after over a decade of being homeless, what would work best for me, for solving the problem of homelessness, for me, is I need a home. I think I need access to permenant stable housing. I've tried work, that's fine, whatever. I actually need access to a place to work from. so. My family is not there for me. The Internet I need you to be my family please and transfer me generational wealth so I can get on with my life please and stop being homeless immediately thank you. I'm sorry to lump this on the general internet, but you raised me more than my parents. I'm looking for my Chosen Family. please show up. Share the links and take over for me because after so long I cannot handle this stress.

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ultramagicalternate · 16 days

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ULTRAMagic Interlude: Shadowland Chapter 25

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Master Post

Despite the momentous victory over The Eternal Church (an ironic name at this point), Shadowland was not quite out of the woods yet. First came the return of the money the cult had hoarded for so long. Some tried to claim they were owed more while others claimed they were given too much. No matter who said what, Sten stood firm. He knew the process would be bumpy and expected friction. Of course he graciously accepted any money that was donated to the crown. Sten insisted against this, but he could not stop it. These individuals would be noted so that they could receive appropriate breaks with future taxes.

Another occurrence in relation to everything was the last of the cult turncoats, who were turning themselves in. This ranged from those who were stubborn to those who were caught between a rock and a hard place, with each person being handled accordingly. Unbeknownst to those outside of the royal court, Sten had secretly made this the cut off point. Anyone apprehended after this would either be executed or receive life in prison. Sten’s logic was that anyone foolish enough to remain with Milosh going forward was not worth saving. There was a unique exception, but anyone with a functioning mind knew the destruction of the church was the time to call it quits.

Amidst all the excitement, Gabriella and Weaver were making their way to Redstar Station on the edge of the city. Here they planned to head to Gabriella’s universe and home. As they walked, they happened upon Dunja and Maximus. They were chatting while Turi rested on Dunja’s arm, happily eating a treat.

“Your majesty, Maximus! Hello there” Gabriella said as she approached.

“Oh hey, you two,” Dunja replied as she gave Turi a few scratches. “Where’re you both off to?”

Weaver dusted off his shoulder. “Oh, just Gabriella’s home. Not going to lie, I’m a bit nervous.”

Gabriella gave him a few taps on the arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t be. It’ll be fine. The first layer of Inferno is very peaceful this time of year. You’ll fit right in.”

“Wait, Weaver, aren’t you from the Cosmos proper originally?” Maximus questioned.

“Yes, and?”

“Well then it should be a walk in the park for you.”

Weaver grumbled. “I mean, I guess so. You’ll have to pardon my apprehension considering I am literally going to Hell…” The others laughed at the absurdity.

“Well at least you can invalidate Grimwald’s insults now” Gabriella pointed out.

Weaver nodded and chuckled. “Alright, fair enough, haha.” As they resumed walking, Weaver looked up at Maximus. “Say, where are you off to?”

“Home, I guess. Sten insisted I head back, inform The Iron City, and stay on guard just in case Milosh pulls something.”

“Ah. I suppose that makes sense. What about you Dunja?”

“Well Turi is going to deliver this letter here to Englehart. Once these two are off, I’m going to head to the royal aviary and help Aureolus pick out a bird, since he’s been interested in one.”

Upon reaching the station, Maximus and Dunja bid the two farewell and headed off. “Well then, shall we head inside and get ready?” Gabriella asked.

The pair went over to an employee who showed them to a series of doors. Each one had a space before it that was perfectly square and flat. Taking the chalk that was handed to her, Gabriella drew a pentagram. Once ready, she plucked a feather from her wings and placed it in the center. Focusing on it, the seal lit up and caused the margin to glow red. The light quickly vanished, allowing the two to go through.

Entering Inferno was a unique experience for Weaver. First he felt incredibly hot, which gave way to a euphoric feeling. His vision blurred as he heard a series of trumpets play a welcoming tune. Once he could see again, he had a rush of sights to take in. The two were in another station that was bustling and noisy. Demons, angels, and everything in between were moving to and about. Train whistles blew as voices spoke over the booming intercoms. Weaver stumbled about as he observed everything before him. People with horns and tails, strange architecture, and familiar scents and sounds made his mind race with excitement.

“Incredible…” Weaver remarked as he accidentally bumped into a tall demon with dark hair. This caused them to collide with a passing, blue skinned demon with ivory horns and brown hair.

“Hey, watch where you’re going…” the first demon stated.

“Oh jeez. Sorry, sorry…” Weaver apologized, quite embarrassed.

“Amon!” Gabriella called out. “Good to see you again.”

“Gabriella, welcome back” he replied as he shook her hand. “How’d your adventure go?”

She chuckled. “Adventure, that is the most apt way to describe it. Amon, this man right here is Weaver Craddock, a blacksmith I met in Shadowland. Weaver, this is Amon, marquis of Inferno. Currently he’s seeking to improve his rank in the pseudomonarchy.”

The two shook hands. “A pleasure to meet you, Weaver,” Amon welcomed.

“Likewise. Say, you sound familiar. I know I’ve heard your name before…”

“Well of course you have, Weaver,” Gabriella answered. “This is the demon Achasiah oversees.”

Weaver nodded in surprise. “Well I’ll be damned. It’s an honor, Amon.”

“Same, as Achasiah has said good stuff about you and the Shadowland crew. Sorry you had to deal with our basket case of a Milosh…”

“It’s alright. The Spineless coward is a complete joke of a threat once he’s on his own.”

Amon wanted to sneak off with the two, but a third demon called out his name, causing him to sigh. “Coming, Lucifuge! Sorry guys, but I got to bounce. Lucifer has been breathing down my neck today…”

“Oh dear. Well best of luck to you, Amon,” Gabriella called out as he walked off. “Shoot, I didn’t get to tell him the news about us…” She then indicated for Weaver to follow her.

“Wait, Lucifer? Thee Lucifer?”

“Yes. He’s not as bad as a lot of earthlings make him out to be. That’s not to say he hasn’t messed up in the past, Atlantis being a noteworthy example, but at the same time he’s still loyal to Adonai.”

“Huh, that’s not what the bible thumpers from my universe would have you believe... Anyways, Amon, he seems pretty alright.”

Gabriella nodded. “Indeed. Reliable and adept at resolving conflicts. You know, Weaver, you could potentially summon him one day.”

“I take it you're referring to necromancy? I mean, I suppose I could try learning it once I have ULTRAMagic…”

Moving to a secretary at a cubicle, Gabriella got Weaver all checked into the records so he could move about freely. Leaving the station, the two walked through what was known as New Paradiso City. It was a nice and sunny day, with a few clouds here and there. Gabriella explained that the city was modeled after the cities of late 20th century America. Weaver was a little confused, so Gabriella clarified that it was a country on her Earth. After giving her boyfriend a chance to see the sights, she hailed a cab. They were not going to walk all the way to her home as it was quite far away.

Seeing Inferno’s lands pass by during the car ride was a surreal experience for Weaver. Outside of the city there were forests, pastures, and grassy hills everywhere. Aside from obvious things that indicated where they were, everything looked normal to him. Gabriella took the opportunity to explain what the layers of Inferno were. She further clarified that what he thought he would encounter were the deepest layers of the realm. Gabriella then finished by warning him never to go down there as untold horrors lurked in the depths. Only the strongest Angels and Demons dared to brave such places.

Arriving at their destination, the two were greeted by a large mansion, flanked by trees and gardens. It was all quite beautiful, with the building having an early 1900s feel to it. Inside they stepped into a grand foyer with a wall of windows on the far end and a balcony above them. Weaver took a moment as he looked around, marveling at the paintings on the walls and the luxurious furniture.

“Jeez, you sure this isn’t Heaven?” he asked.

Gabriella giggled. “Well people do say that Inferno is like a second Heaven sometimes. It’s even been said that it is a Heaven for those that can’t get into Heaven for one reason or another… assuming you stick to the upper layers.”

“So do you live here all by yourself?”

“Nope. I live with my mother since it is her mansion after all. She’s probably still in The Unlight…” Gabriella answered as she took off her coat and boots.

As Weaver took off his boots, someone appeared on the balcony. “Gabriella, is that you dear?”

She looked up. “Mom! You’re back too?”

Valentina looked a little frazzled, but no worse for wear. “Sadly. The council called on me for important business relating to the Miranda Planetoid.”

“The council?” Weaver inquired.

“The Infernal Council of Order” Gabriella answered. “It’s the main governing body of Inferno, aside from the four emperors. So mom, how’s Blood doing?”

The dark angel gave a worried sigh. “Not great. Everything’s been bothering him. I didn’t want to leave him, but Nasargiel explained the full scope of the issue here and… well, I see why he wanted me back so badly.”

“Oh my…. I presume Radovan and Rose are going to look after him now?”

“Yes. Rose finally has some free time and Radovan said he would make time. Thankfully things seemed to be settling down in The Iron City when I left.”

“That’s good to hear. Oh, Mom! Great news: You’re familiar with Mr. Craddock here, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Weaver.”

“Same, Valentina,” he replied, unsure if he should bring up what Achasiah had told everyone back in Shadowland.

Gabriella smiled. “Mom, I’m proud to announce that I finally have a boyfriend!” This made Weaver blush.

That news made Valentina’s day as she felt her heart swell with happiness. “How wonderful! Well then, you make yourself right at home, Weaver. Now I’d love to hang and chat with you two, but unfortunately I need to get back to work…”

Weaver chuckled. “It’s alright, I know how you feel.”

“Oh! Before I forget, Gabriella, there’s a package in the mail room. Could you take that to Stolon when you get the chance?”

“Sure. I was planning to go visit Stolas regardless.”

“Thank you, sweetie. If you kids need me for anything, I’ll be in my office.” Valentina then hurried off.

Gabriella turned to Weaver. “Want to go meet one of my friends from my school days?”

“Sure…” his stomach growled. “Um, can we get something to eat first?.”

She looked at the clock. “Hey, lunch time. Follow me.” Gabriella led him to the kitchen, which was clean and spacious with an island counter in the center. “We could head over to the dinning hall, but it’s just lunch. Xavier? Are you here?”

What appeared to be a five foot tall demon came walking up. His skin was earthly in color and his tail was relatively thick. “Gabriella, welcome home! Glad to have you back.”

“You would not believe the adventure I’ve had. Weaver, this is Xavier, our butler. Xavier, this is Weaver Craddock, my boyfriend.”

“A Boyfriend?! Well howdy do, welcome to the Pari residence, Weaver,” Xavier said as he shook his hand.

“Thanks. Say, what kind of demon are you, if you don’t mind me asking. You look different from the others.”

“Oh, I’m not a demon. I’m a devil, and an Earth devil at that. We were the ones who were in Inferno before the demons and angels started showing up. As for what I’m doing here, I like the Pari’s and I need the work.”

“Right, sorry. I didn’t realize there was a difference.”

Xavier looked at Gabriella. “He’s from a different universe,” she replied.

“Ah, I see. Well no harm now foul” Xavier stated as he got out some cutlery and food. “What can I do for you two? Lunch, I take it?”

Gabriella nodded. “Certainly. I’ll have the usual. What do you want, Weaver?”

“Oh, what’s it called… oh yeah, a sub, please. Claudius introduced me to them and I can’t get enough.”

“Nice, that’s my favorite too,” Xavier pointed out. “Figures given that you’re a blacksmith. I’ve fancied myself a smith in the past, with help from my friend, Cliff. He’s an iron devil.”

“You can tell that I smith? How so?”

“You smell of Earth and metal. I’ll have to give Cliff a call so you two can chat. Now, let’s get cooking!”

Next: Chapter 26

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