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suguruplsr · 7 months

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ex geto as you roommate (love your work🩷🩷)

Ex suguru as your roommate!

✰ ✰ ✰ roommate!ex!suguru headcannons !

જ⁀➴ mind was racing, heart beating, thighs quivering, toes sh****** — when i saw this <3 and ty ilyyyy

,,roommate!ex!suguru x ex!fem!reader , suguru is toxic a bit , and a asshole , he brings girls over , soft sex , idk 🧍🏾‍♀️

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you broke up with after finding out he was talking to multiple girls on campus. even a few you knew and smiled to your face while their nudes were in their messages with him. but you didn't have any choice but to stay with him, only as his roomate of course.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who finds the changes in not only how you two act with each other, but how you live together, a nuisance. his room no longer cluttered with a few of your belongings, the smell of your body wash fading away in his sheets, (he didn't wash them and his pillow case for nearly 3 weeks), your voice waking him softly, the sound of the front door closing right as he wakes up with no aroma of food, all of it was gone.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who can't handle it. hearing your voice through the thin walls, talking to some guy over the phone. he's sure he knows the guy. a goodie two-shoes with absolutely no game at all. at least in suguru's opinion. it's bewildering that the guy even got you to the point of talking to him in that oh so sultry voice that you used to use on suguru himself. even if it was directed towards him. just hearing it made his heart, and something else jump.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts waking up early. up at 8 am, drinking a cup coffee, (his 4th cup), with nothing but a dark pair of sweats on, and his hair messy and untied. he’d scroll through his phone, not responding to his messages of girls he hasn’t talked to after the break up. all just to see you up and ready for a good 15 minutes before you leave for nearly 12 hours, and he's sure you're not that busy, you're so cute avoiding and ignoring his existence.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who's just so nosy, and doesn't know what to do with knowing that you're actually moving on from him. so he begins to tell you little lies, "that guy? no, the really smart one. yea, he's just fucking the psychology professor for a good grade.", "i heard some guy got your number yesterday. don't worry about who told me- he has herpes!" , "did you hear about that rumor of him and his sister? yes i saw that clown kissing her” he can’t let you leave him just yet, maybe he should start threatening people?

Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose lies are just so funny to you. you know what is true and what’s not. and you also know he’s just being a huge dick. but you can’t help but indulge him just a tiny bit and cut off a few guys just to see how his eyes twinkle, with a small, “i told you so.” it makes you feel jittery, desperately wanting to just, ‘burst his bubble’, and call him out on his bull.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to realize that despite you listening to his words, you aren’t as affected as he wishes you were. he knows it’s wrong to be upset that his, not-so-good, actions aren’t enough to push you over the edge. over back to him. he can still hear you talking to that one guy. you met him like a month ago and you’ve been going on dates with him every single week. he knows his ego is too big, especially to think that he’s better than some smart, preppy, cute guy. but he can’t help it.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to get petty. talking to new girls and finding quick fuck buddies whose names he can’t remember. but what he eventually did, which definitely pissed you off, was bring them home. sneaking them in the house and fucking them closer to your shared wall. acting clueless when you cuss him out in the morning. you never showed your face to them though, knowing that he picks a new girl every week so it was best just avoid the temporary girls. maybe he never saves their numbers because even he finds their shrills annoying. it makes you facepalm, the dick is never that good.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who actually hooks up with one girl more than once. surprising you when she walks out his room, finding you, who was making a bowl of cereal before you get ready for work.

“And who the hell are you..?” you sigh at the sound of her snob tone. but you can’t blame her. “i’m his roomate, and i’m leaving.” short and sweet. respectful. and yet she just had to open her mouth, “of course. geto wouldn’t fuck someone like you..” she trails off under her breath, making you whip your head with a roll of you eyes. “oh please. suguru, has fucked me more times than i can count. and you aren’t going to disrespect me where i live, so good day ma’am.” you open the door, a smug look on your face as she stomps out.

“did you really have to do that..” suguru slumped out of his room with a yawn, feigned annoyance on his pretty face, but you could tell he felt rather happy from the crinkle of his eyes. you aren’t sure why he’s obviously deriving some joy from seeing you kick out one of his hoes. but it makes your lips curl in a smile. “stop having sex with girls while i’m here. plus i think her wig was slipping.” your eyes soften at the sight of him covering his croaky laugh. you follow in suite with a few chuckles as you two actually continue the conversation, talking for nearly an hour before you have to go.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you begin to get more comfortable with compared to before. the tension between you two lessening within weeks. you two even continued having your late night horror movies, which you stopped after breaking up, or talking to each for hours about gossip that you two bring home. hell, both of you spent two hours talking about the guy you’ve been seeing, piecing up to the fact that he may have been a bad ex of some girl you knew. suguru was fairly happy when you called the guy and broke things off.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts to change as your friendship heals. becoming more involved in things he actually likes, cutting off on his smoking and drinking habits, getting good grades, working out. you knew he was genuine about his growth in becoming more healthy from him doing it unconsciously and without question.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose change slowly attracts you. its refreshing. but you knew from his glances and small intimate touches, that he still wanted you. you thought he’d be over you after nearly 5 months but you’ve decided to wait. maybe he’s caught on to your own fleeting actions? anytime you’re touching him, he makes it a mission to have your hands on him longer than they should be.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who gets bolder after a small incident of him accidentally cornering you…

“that’s the salt.” “oh..” you sigh playfully as he puts the salt back, searching for the sugar again and moving around you. you admit, it was kinda scary how his taller build just towered over you. large arms going around your head and— wait what?

pausing, you place the knife down on the cutting board and look up. suguru’s jaw was way above you, one of his long and large arms around your whole body to reach up to the cabinet as he searched for the sugar shaker. turning, you tried to move away but his other arm blocked your way.

and of course. with the way your kitchen was styled, part of the counter blocked the other side. “suguru….” your voice comes out quieter than you wish it did, so meek and quiet. “suguru..” you say it louder, making him halt and look down at you. god, you looked adorable, your eyes trying to look anywhere but him, biting your lip. gesturing to the sink, you stammer, eyes flickering up to him only to look away. “you’re kinda..” “oh- sorry”

suguru immediately moves away, watching silently as you wash your hands. he could tell how nervous you were from how you had let your hands stay in the water a little longer than needed, taking a deep breath. so cute.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who lets his hands linger on you more, sometimes guiding your body when moving around you, or helping you out. “your bonnet’s falling a bit, lemme fix that right quick.” and you know it doesn’t take that long to adjust your bonnet. you know it doesn’t take that long to get a piece of lint off you. you know it doesn’t take that long to fix your necklace. you know. yet you never speak out on it. but maybe that’s why he keeps doing it.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who makes small innuendos when you least expect it. loving the small gasp that escapes your lips, head whipping to him with traces of your ice cream on your lips. “what? i’m just saying~” he’d tease, wiping off the ice cream and licking it off his thumb. the tension quickly easing as you slap his shoulder with a huff.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who knows you both aren’t shy of knowing each other's bodies. but you two can’t help but act like little virgins who can’t handle being near each other without getting nervous. it’s like falling in love all over again, but with sexual tension. and it's killing him. you both know what you want so why not act on it and try again. together.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who works you up, annoying you and turning you on all in one day only to shut you up with a kiss. which leads to both of you eventually stumbling onto the couch..

“m’so sorry baby.. should’ve been better” you huff as suguru mutters the nth apology, his feather like kisses on your neck numbing the pain of his cock sliding into to you for the first time in what feels like forever. “i know— um, oh fuck.. sugu, please, it’s okay! i..” your whimpers make suguru’s eyes lock onto you, leaving little scratches on his chest.

he was in deep. cock pushed to the hilt and right at your sweet spot. just pressing it. but he just wouldn’t move, your pussy was so tight, so he could just grind into you and he’s sure he’d cum. “s-sorry baby. i’m just so sorry n’ i can’t think. fuckin’ pussy is a-amazing..” suguru closes his eyes tight. his voice having an undertone of a whine as he slowly rocks his cock in and out of you.

“uh— mm, your so deep suguru~ just like this.. still need ta’ get used to it” your moan has a chuckle leaving his lips. both of you were in a drunk haze of sex and emotions, unable to even fuck properly. “yea? o-ok. that’s fine. but please tell me you’re gonna take me back after this. fuck. really wanna be with you again. i love you so much and—“

you cut him off like a small kiss, a ditzy smile playing on your lips, “of course you idiot. i don’t just let anyone fuck me. not on a couch of all things. a-and i love you too.” your nails dig into his shoulder at the feeling of his cock dragging in slowly. it made you feel delirious, and him leaning down to continue the kisses topped it off, speaking between them, “then i’m not fucking you. i’m making— ha, love to you..”

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just-aake · 5 months

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Your Special Day

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You celebrate Natasha’s special day with small surprises for her.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 1160

The alarm on the phone rings, waking the red-haired agent from her slumber. After turning off the shrill sound, her hand automatically reaches over toward the other side of the bed, only to sit up in confusion when she finds an empty space.

The area still retains some of your warmth, so you couldn't have left too long ago. After getting dressed, Natasha comes out of your shared room and is immediately greeted by a sweet smell seemingly from the kitchen.

Making her way to the area, Natasha finds the source of the smell—a small spread of breakfast laid out on the table. A ding from the coffee maker signals its completion, and Natasha is pleasantly surprised when she recognizes the scent of the finished drink.

Someone, probably Stark, had used the last batch of her favorite brand of coffee, and she hadn’t had the time to pick up any more, so for the past weeks, she just settled for drinking one of the other basic coffees available.

Judging from the still-warm breakfast and the timing of the completed coffee, Natasha could tell that this meal was planned precisely for when she would usually have woken up.

The only thing missing was the person who was behind this meticulous planning.

After calling your name and not seeing any signs of you anywhere, Natasha spots a piece of paper under the plate with your familiar handwriting.

Got called in for a meeting with Fury. Nothing serious. Take your time and enjoy your breakfast! Love you, Y/n

Natasha's lips quirked up into a soft smile at your words. Looking back at the homemade breakfast you made especially for her, her heart warms at your gesture. Tucking the note safely away in her pocket, Natasha decides to listen to your words and enjoy the meal you prepared for her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

After finishing her breakfast and arriving at the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Natasha walks through the halls toward her workspace, intending to work on the piles of mission reports that she needs to complete by the end of today. It's not a difficult task, just tedious with the amount of paperwork required to fill out.

Maria appears from the corner heading in the opposite direction of Natasha. When she glances up from her tablet and notices the agent, she stops and greets her.

“Afternoon, Romanoff. I got those reports of yours. Thanks for finishing them so quickly,” Maria tells her appreciatively.

Natasha gives her a confused look, wondering if she is referring to the reports that she was just on her way to complete.

“My reports?” Natasha questions.

“Yeah, L/n gave them to me this morning,” Maria explains.

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at the revelation.

Not noticing her expression, Maria continues swiping through her tablet while humming in thought.

“Looks like there’s not much else that needs to be done right now,” she looks back at Natasha with an impressed look. “I guess that means you can take it easy today. Enjoy your day off, Romanoff.”

“Thanks,” Natasha replies distractedly as Maria leaves.

She stands there in wonder, touched by what you’ve done for her today. Natasha contemplates what she should do now that she no longer has any work to complete.

You haven’t seen or replied to her text messages yet, which probably means you are still in your meeting with Fury.

A familiar voice pulls Natasha’s attention from her phone as she looks at the person speaking to her.

“So, do you just stand there all day, or do you actually do hero stuff in this place?” Yelena asks casually as she taps the walls of the headquarters, nodding her head at the durability.

“Yelena, what are you doing here?” Natasha asks curiously at yet another nice surprise that she has received today.

She hasn’t seen her little sister in person for a couple of months now, ever since Yelena decided to explore the world, leading her team of Widows in helping where they can.

Yelena shrugs nonchalantly, replying, “Considering what day it is, I figure I could take some time out of my schedule to spend with my sister and ‘catch up’ about what’s happening in our lives.”

Yelena raises her hands in air quotes around the words, as if repeating the phrase from someone else.

Natasha raises a disbelieving brow at her, knowing that there’s more to the situation.

At her expression, Yelena rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath.

“Plus, your girlfriend was kind of scary when she called me,” she admits, shuddering at the memory.

Natasha grins amusedly at the information, figuring that you had a part in this surprise also. She gestures with her head at Yelena to follow her.

“Come on, I’ll show you around, and you can tell me about the hero stuff you’ve done,” Natasha tells her with a small smirk.

Yelena shoots a similar expression back at her sister and follows after her, excited to recount her adventures and spend some time together again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

After saying goodbye to Yelena, Natasha comes back to the Avengers compound to find a delicious scent emanating from the kitchen again.

This time, however, when she makes her way to the area, she is glad to see your familiar figure standing in the room.

You look up at her entrance, your smile widening when you see that it is her.

“Welcome back,” you greet her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, it was almost perfect,” Natasha replies casually as she moves around the counter to be closer to you.

Your brows furrow as you discreetly pull out your phone to glance at the list of things you had planned for today, wondering what you might have missed – homemade breakfast, favorite coffee, completed reports, no additional work, Yelena, and now dinner.

These were all just simple gestures that you thought of doing for her today. You know Natasha doesn’t like to make a big deal about this day in particular, but you still wanted to at least make it a little more special for her than usual.

You scan your list again, wondering what it is that you must have forgotten.

Suddenly, Natasha’s hand covers your screen as she pushes your phone away, and she raises her eyebrows pointedly at you.

“It’s you, Y/n,” Natasha explains amusedly. “Being with you makes today perfect.”

Your mouth opens slightly in surprise at her words, wondering how you forgot something so simple.

Looking at your expression fondly, Natasha places her hands on your waist and pulls you close to her, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips.

Pulling back slightly, she rests her head against yours as she looks into your eyes filled with love.

“Thank you...for everything,” she tells you sincerely.

You give her a soft smile, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in close again as you whisper against her lips.

“Happy Birthday, Natasha.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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oromaangel · 2 months

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A Family Day at the Beach

Nanami Kento x fem! Reader

Tags: Pure sweet almost sickly fluff, Domestic, pregnancy, SFW, Alternative Universe, I was watching a bunch of Nara Smith videos and needed an outlet before I ended up getting married and having a real-life baby

w/c: 2,083

Based on this moodboard I made

For reference son is around 5 years old, older daughter is around 3, baby is almost 1 and the fetus is a fetus.

Dividers by @soulari

Nanami walked leisurely across the shore line of Kuantan watching his son and daughter in pure amusement as they poked and prodded at a displeased crab.

He had warned them earlier to leave the animal alone, that its claws would pinch their little fingers however, they insisted that the crab come back to live in their sand castle and that it had simply lost its way home. He couldn’t argue with that.

So for the better part of half an hour he had joined his kids in the slow journey guiding “Mr. Grabs” back home. And finally after a lifetime of traversing the sand dunes, the sand castle was in view.

“Almost there Mr. Grabs” his daughters sweet voice offered words of encouragement gently tapping the crabs hard exterior with a twig in the hope to jolst in further ahead. His son however, has grown restless over this whole ordeal.

“UGHHHH Can this thing be any slower” his son puffed, squeezing at his blonde tendrils in frustration. Nanami let out a breathy laugh recounting that at least all the lessons he had taught them both on patience had an effect on one of the children.

In that moment of positive recollection, he glanced upwards towards the sky soaking in the warmth from the rays above.

Big Mistake.

His knee-length clone identified this slight second of distraction from the adult present which gave him enough time to make his move. Nanami should have expected this, kids are like predators, waiting for a moment of weakness from their prey (their parents) before striking and doing something stupid. Alas just as quickly as his happy memories started to play, it ended with the shrill shriek of his daughter.

“Put him down” she screamed as she watched her brother pick up Mr Grabs and run in the direction of the sand castle. Before Nanami could open his mouth she had taken off after her brother, swinging her plastic toy shovel in the air. Standing there in the cloud of sand dust left by his children Nanami mused the idea of yelling at both of them to stop knowing they would both immediately listen but something tickled in the back of his head reminding him that this would be a great parenting lesson to have up his sleeve so he resigned to watching this small bout of madness play out already knowing how it would end.

His son looked back at his sisters expression taunting her with a toothy grin “I’m just faster than you-“

“Three, two, one…” like magic Nanami counted in his head and as soon as the clock struck midnight his son’s face began to contort. First confusion, then pain, then….

Every beachgoer in the near vicinity, grimaced at the ear splitting scream let out by the little boy as he began to flay his arm attempting to unattach a very pissed off crab from his appendage. Pushing the smug parent grin to the back of his mind Nanami approached the panicked child and removed the crustacean from his body, tossing it to the side and watching as it hurriedly scuttled away.

“Errrrr, Kento!” Your voice slashed through the moment “When I said watch the kids, watching them get bitten by crabs was not what I had in mind!” You grumbled, awkwardly manoeuvring yourself upwards, your round pregnant belly throwing off your centre of gravity causing you to stumble slightly in your ascent. Beside you your youngest child babbled happily in the sand, unaware of the distress her older siblings were in.

Nanami grinned sheepishly “It’s alright dear no one got hurt” he held the blushing boys arm as proof of his claim “Lie back done and get some rest” he cooed sweetly. Although your eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he could feel the daggers aimed in his direction before you sighed and laid back down in the sun chair, picking back up the mother magazine you were reading.

He knelt down wordlessly and analysed the boy's wound, the finger was pinched pink but otherwise no skin was broken and no damage was caused other than to his ego. Smiling sweetly at his son, his lecture to the sniffling child on patience and respecting animals had begun in the most serious tone he could muster with that heavenly ‘Told you so’ feeling swimming in the back of his mind. His son stared at the ground, he hated being scolded by Nanami despite the fact his father never raised his voice or berated him his tone always carried a serious level of discipline and respect that could make a bird feel bad for singing. Nanami didn't like scolding either but he knew it was important to ensure his children stayed on the right path and represented him and his wife's hard work well. The boy nodded wordlessly once Nanami had reached his concluding message and reached out to hug his father's open arms buring his face into the older man's chest.

This was your fourth child with Nanami yet you were still a bundle of nerves preparing for their arrival. Being so close in age with your youngest (completely unplanned on your part, SOMEONE can’t keep their hands and other body parts to themselves) you worried about dividing your attention equally between the under twos and also how much sleep you would be able to get with breastfeeding two mouths.

You had read countless advice columns and mommy blogs warning about the dangers of having kids too close in age, critiquing mothers with large families on their ability to love and provide attention to all their children equally, and seen countless posts warning about the dangers of just about everything you currently did raising your young family. Doubt began to fill your head and despite having three little ones you felt like a new mother learning to do the correct things all over again.

Nanami did his best to ease your anxiety with foot rubs and affirming words reminding you that you both were a team and that he was ready to take on the sleepless nights again, even suggesting hiring a full time nanny to live in the house during the first few months to make the newborn stage easier. You declined his offer, despite home-care being cheaper in Malaysia it would still eat into a large chuck on his savings that could be allocated better elsewhere. Plus you had just watched a video of kids saying that they liked their nanny more than their moms which only added to your growing anxiety.

Nanami had noticed your behaviour change, especially after you began to second guess whether or not you'd vaccinate the baby and seriously discussed giving birth at home in the tub with no nurse or midwife. He shot down these ideas immediately, insisting that he would not be putting you or his children through that extra stress based on conspiracy theories and fear-mongering. He had started to worry about how all the 'online garbage' was affecting your sanity and mental health during your third trimester and insisted on having a no-technology day at the beach to ease your worries.

After another great parenting lesson was concluded Nanami made his way towards his moody wife. Your grouchiness never bothered him, in fact, it was one of his favourite parts of pregnancy. Seeing you become tender and over-emotional and knowing exactly how to squeeze a smile out of you in those moments was his greatest pleasure and partially why you both had formed a little league football team worth of children in such a short amount of time.

“There are my sweet girls” he approached the cheery baby on the ground first, casually removing the fist full of sand that was making its way to her open mouth and peppering kisses across her chubby cheeks causing her to bubble over in laughter. Music to his ears.

“And my favourite girl” he grinned placing the baby on his hip and crouching beside you on the chair. You glanced away from your magazine and scoffed at the slight on your husband’s over-exaggerated kissy face he was making at you.

“No kisses for me?” He asked playfully cocking his head to the side. You rolled your eyes and placed a single chaste kiss on his lips but before you could pull yourself away, you felt a large hand on the back of your neck , keeping you in place as he deepened the kiss. You mumbled incoherently into his mouth for a second before giving in to the affection placing a soft hand on the side of his face. After what felt like an eternity, this kiss was interrupted by a small disapproving smack from the baby on his side who began claw at both of your faces clearly distressed by this public display of affection.

Giggles enveloped the both of you whilst affectionately watching the baby crawl back to the pile of toys in the sand once placed on the ground.

“Still reading that magazine love? Nanami asked glancing at the the object in question “Honestly, we’ve done this three times already I don’t know what other advice you could possibly need or how much more equipment we could fit in the nursery” he grunted as he stood up from the sand balancing at the edge of your sun-bed.

Rolling your eyes you folded up the magazine placing it out of sight “There’s always some thing new to learn with these things, like the new Montessori school opening nearby and there’s these baby bottles that are shaped like real nipples to help with latching, and a bassinet that rocks the baby for you! It’s called the SNOO it’s about eight thousand Ringgits but we can buy it second hand” Nanami playfully groaned at your rambling shifting his body until he laying between your thighs leaving small kisses where he could reach.

“Are you even listening to me Kento? I said it says here that plastic nappies are actually bad for babies skin and that plastic bottles can cause eczema” He hummed absentmindedly in response resulting in a pout from you and a flick to the forehead.

Brushing off your annoyance he pointed his finger in the direction of your two oldest children who were engrossed in a very intense game of tag “Look over there love”

You winced slightly at the blow your daughter had delivered to her brother back once she caught up with him suppressing your giggle as he face-planted into the floor before getting up and taking after his assailant at full speed.

“And over here” he again pointed to the baby playing “Can I eat that?” in the sand beside them.

“You raised all of these kids just fine without all that nonsense, we’re going to be just fine” he kissed your thighs again caressing small circles into you while his eyes remained half-lidded.

You huffed again staring down at your caring husband allowing yourself to relax at his touch. Maybe he was right, all your babies were happy and healthy and you kept them alive for this long and anonmom2567 couldn't be THAT much better at parenting than you afterall.

"You're probably right Ken" you sighed again closing your eyes and relaxing back into the sunbed, he smiled lazily into your thighs content that his plan had worked and that he could reduce some of his wife’s troubles. The sound of gentle waves and chatter lulled you both into comfortable silence appreciating the wonderful weather, coastal air, and beautiful sky.

Of course as a parent silence meant trouble was afoot.

After a few minutes of this blissful silence you turnt to find your baby was not at her pile of blocks. You immediantly shot up and began to scan the area horrified to see your baby a considerable distance away (how'd she even crawl that fast???) at another families beach set up eating a popsicle from a cooing older lady.

"Aren't you just the most precious little angel" she fawned over your littlest one who was already scanning what they would eat next.

Not only that your oldest son had decided that the most adequet punishment for the slap he had recieved earlier was digging his younger sister neck deep in the sand.

Nanami followed your eyes to the scenes before him and let out a loud laugh, getting up to dig out the now-crying child while you retrieved your baby escape artist.

You were going to be just fine.

A/N: My second public fic omgggg hope you enjoyed. I was binge watching a bunch of Nara Smiths content and decided that I need to write my own young family AU before I messed around and married a mormon

#jujustu kaisen #nananmi kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen au

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thatscarletflycatcher · 6 months

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Okay you got me. Tell me about PP 1980

Okay, so XD

Imagine you had a BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that was 5 hours long, faithful to the book, and yet having a different perspective/understanding/interpretation of the characters and the story? That's P&P 1980 in a nutshell, and I think it is worth watching just for that. But here are some other concrete things it has going for it, specially in relation to other adaptations:

The casting is closer in age than 95, and on one specific important case, closer than 05 too: Lady Catherine de Bourgh is played by an actress in her mid 40s, and she nails the absolute Opinionated Facebook AuntTM thing that the character has going in the novel.

It's not the only case of closer accuracy to the book in characters: Mr Collins is a young, tall, big guy, whose main issue is being very small minded, petty, and obsequent, instead of recurring to "he's greasy or slimy" as other adaptations do.

If you agree/like the "Darcy has autism" headcanon, this is the adaptation that leans the most heavily into it (it does overdo it, in my opinion, but there's a very interesting contrast between the flat affect of his facial expression, and the richness of inflexion in his voice)

Elizabeth Garvie's Lizzy is just... extraordinary. This adaptation circumvents the Jane-as-prettier-than-Lizzy issue by casting as Lizzy an actress with big, dark, very expressive eyes, small features and a very lively, sharp countenance and manners, whereas Jane's actress is tall and graceful and has a general air of kindness and sweetness, but in a very youthful way.

Speaking of Jane, this adaptation focuses much more on the sisters as sisters, and gives special emphasis to Lizzy's love for Jane, which I appreciate a lot.

Also speaking of Jane, Jane and Bingley are the cutest in this. They are given time, and he's kind and sociable and sweet without being an idiot. This adaptation includes that great line of his about how he wouldn't mind Darcy so much if he wasn't so tall, and the following comment about how Darcy can be fastidious of a Sunday evening.

That way, this adaptation includes several fan favorite scenes/lines that don't usually make it to adaptation, such as Darcy asking Lizzy to dance a reel, Lizzy playing and singing at a party in Meryton, Caroline teasing Darcy about putting uncle and aunt Phillips on the Pemberley portrait gallery, and the "I cannot fix the hour or the spot..." line. EDIT: also, the coffee pot scene!! and the rivalry between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas!

I also think it balances well how awful, in different ways, both Mr and Mrs Bennet (EDIT: and she's not insufferably shrill!!!!) are as parents (unlike how 95 and 05 "pick sides"); it emphasizes how self centered her efforts are, and how lazy and callous he can be in his mockery and indolence.

The opening sequence of each episode is a roll of a hand-drawn summary of the events of the episode and that's such a lovely detail.

Mind you, the adaptation is not without its faults. The production values are not what we are accustomed to nowadays. Some acting and lines are stilted and/or awkward. It has the odd choice here and there that is involuntarily funny. But I don't think people need discouragement from seeing it. I don't even think most of the general Austen fandom is aware of its existence. For my part, it has become my favorite adaptation of P&P (that I have watched so far; I haven't gotten yet to either 1967 or the Italian one).

#ask #kajaono #pride and prejudice #Jane Austen #pride and prejudice 1980

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purplelupins · 2 years

Text

My Pretty Girl

|The Black Phone|

Albert Shaw(The grabber) x fem!reader

Summery: After getting roped into watching over your older sister at a house party, you come to realise that the uncomfortable situation might be better than you think. Sure it’s not Max’s house like you were told, and sure there’s a house full of people you don’t know, but there’s that nice man with bright blue eyes and a sweet voice that keeps you company. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

MINORS DNI PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Warnings: Mentions of partying, alcohol, and cocaine, age gap, manipulation, masturbation, daddy kink, filthy thoughts

Note: this was a 7000 word commissioned piece by @trashutjr and if you are interested in requesting a commission, you can tap on the link

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A phone call was how it all began.

A shrill ring of the teal phone in your kitchen made you pause your dinner. A part of you already knew who it was, but you optimistically hoped your intuition was wrong.

With your sunny thoughts dwindling quickly as you walked to the kitchen, you picked up the receiver and held it to your ear before uttering a gentle, “Hello, this is y/n speaking.” Always such a polite voice.

“Hey lollipop!” The voice of your older sister, Ellen, came through the phone, and your shoulders dropped slightly. Your intuition had been right, and while you usually praised yourself for it, tonight you cursed it. Mentally wishing it away.

It wasn’t that you disliked your elder sister, you got along surprisingly well; it was that over the past few years, the only time you received a call from her was because she needed something…usually with no intention of returning the favour. She already had a running tab with you, and a list of ‘I owe you’s a mile long, but family was family.

Plus, she only called you Lollipop when it was a favour she knew you wouldn’t like to partake in. The last time that sickly sweet name and tone came through to your ear, it had ended with you getting an elbow to the cheek from your heavily intoxicated sister’s friend, Karen, and you driving the two of them to Ellen’s little apartment outside the city. Herding them up the building’s dingy stairs was a whole other story.

“Hi Ellie…” you replied softly, half hoping she just needed directions to a bar.

A relieved breath came from the other end of the phone, “I know this is last minute…but you’re free tonight around 5, right?”She asked hopefully.

Ah. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath, “Yep. Was just about to eat dinner.” Indeed your dinner was staring at you like the boneless girl you were when it came to Ellen.

Ellen laughed, “It’s 4 o’clock! You’re such an old lady sometimes…” that stung a little, “Listen, I know you don’t have a lot going on so I thought I’d take you to a friends tonight for some drinks and hanging out. You’ll come right?”

Which translated to: I’m going to get drunk and high and I need you to drive me home, so come be the sober one.

You felt the ‘No’ on your tongue, but it wouldn’t come out. If anything happened to her, you knew you would never let it go.

“Sure. What’s the address?” You asked, “Do they have any animals?” After going to enough of Ellen’s parties, it became habit to sit with the cat or dog that the stranger owned. You liked to bring treats, just in case.

“Um, one sec-“ she turned away from the phone and you could hear mumbling, “Hey, yeah he has a dog. It’s at 7742 south Irving St. I’ll see you there!” She blew you a kiss through the phone, and hung up before you could ask anything else. Your stomach already felt uneasy at the thought that this was a man’s house you were going to, but you pushed it aside.

It was a warm evening, and while you truly did not want to be out, a slow grin made its way onto your face; the fresh air enveloped you like gentle, warm fingers. You hopped on your bike, and pedalled off in the direction of the house, dog treats and a water bottle tucked in your bag.

Before long, the two story houses on the edge of the city turned into one stories, and you turned from East Anderson road to South Irving. You began counting the addresses, slowing your pace until you saw 7740, and stopped at the simple brick house beside it. Sure enough, your sister’s car and a couple others were outside,

With a deep breath, you walked your bike up the driveway, and leaned it against the side of the house before you knocked on the door tentatively. You could already hear loud voices inside, and you cringed.

Before you could back out, the door swung open to reveal a man in his mid to late thirties and a light blue dress shirt, and a thick moustache. He regarded you for a moment, and it only took you a moment to see his dilated pupils a a little bit of white powder caught in his nostril. “Hey, what can I do-“

“Lollipop?” You heard Ellen call from inside- a slight slur to her voice.

Then a look of recognition washed over the man’s face, “Oh you’re Ellen’s baby sister, come on in. Wish my name was Lollipop.” He said happily.

You tried to return his easy smile, but it likely came out as a tight line instead, “Thank you. I’m y/n…” you said as you walked inside, “Ellie just calls me that sometimes…”

He nodded enthusiastically and you looked around the modest home as the smell of cigarettes and alcohol wrapped around you. It was a mess. Littering the coffee table and floor where beer and brandy bottles, along with some bowls of chips and…were those dog treats? But what drew your attention the most was the almost violent array of clippings pinned to a cork board on the wall. Your brows pinched in the middle when you tried to take a look, and you noticed photos of the missing boys.

You felt a twist in your gut when you realised this was some conspiracy party…and even as you listened to the conversations being had, your thoughts were confirmed.

What have you gotten into now, El…

From her place on the couch, you heard Ellen call your name, and you slowly looked over at her with a small smile; she returned it with one far larger and dazed. Everyone you saw her like that, you wished she ran with a better crowd, a sober one at least. Though you figured that after living a life with an alcoholic barely-there father, one of you would turn out on the bad side…it just hurt to see your older sister filling that role.

You waved to her and said a few greetings to the other unfamiliar faces in the room- a total of three women including your sister, and four men. All of them older than you, and all of them not noticing your presence. Not that you dwelled on it. Your attention was soon captured by a large black dog that laid in the corner. The smell of beer instantly went away as soon as you began to walk over to the hound, and you grinned at your new companion.

It picked up its large head, and watched you closely as you crouched down, “Hello you…looks like it’s just us tonight.”

Huge dark eyes stared back at you, and blinked. Taking that as a sign that the dog wouldn’t rip your face off, you sat down beside it, and took your bag in hand. As you were about to ask if it could have treats, your words died in your mouth; the man whose house you were in was very animatedly explaining some wild theory of his, and all eyes were either on him or a tempting body part of another man or woman. You prayed to god that this wouldn’t turn into a cocaine orgy.

You sighed and just hoped for the best as you fished out the the baggie- surly the dog had no allergies. Instantly, the dog’s eyes perked up and it’s head rose again in acknowledgement of the goodies.

“That’s Sampson, he’s a big sap…might not let you go if you give him treats!” The man called over to you as he took a swig from his beer.

You still didn’t know his name. You knew his dog’s, but not his. Regardless, you nodded and laughed gently as your attention returned to the massive dog. “Well Sampson, I would just take you home with me if my landlady allowed it. Guess I’ll just have to keep you in my pocket.” You cooed to him as you held out two treats, which he ate greedily. You wondered when the last time he had been fed was.

A half hour passed, and you were slouched comfortably in front of Sampson, trying to get him to catch a treat from high in the air. He wasn’t amused. You were happy for the distraction, especially since the last time you had looked up, your sister had one of the male attendees’ tongues down her throat.

It wasn’t that you were a prude or judging her, but something about seeing your sibling making out with someone made your stomach uncomfortable.

Max -as you had finally come to hear him referred to as- was still very animatedly talking about various topics that you had completely lost track of when the front door swung open, and for the first time, you saw him stop talking. From your standpoint, you didn’t see who had opened the door, but from the look of recognition on Max’s face, this wasn’t good or expected.

“Max what the fucking hell is this?”

Another man stepped through the door; he was taller than Max, and clearly older. He slammed the door shut, which made you jump, and your nerves were set on high.

“Hey Al…just some friends I invited over, no biggie.” Max tried to sooth the older man -Al- but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Oh I see. A little get together?” He mocked, “I let you crash here for a month, Max. You make a mess of my- is that…Christ clean that shit up.” You saw the older man catch a glimpse of the cocaine still on the coffee table.

You felt sick.

This wasn’t even Max’s house. You almost wanted to shout to the man that you were sorry and just bolt, but then you remembered the tether that kept you there. Ellen. And she barely looked awake.

Max pulled Al into the kitchen, and you watched anxiously as they continued their heated exchange.

“Listen Albert I’ll make it up to you okay, I got this interview comin’ up and I’m sure I’ll get it-“

But Albert shook his head in disappointment, “I don’t want your money, I want my house back. With none of that shit everywhere.” He gestured pointedly to the coffee table.

That was all you could hear until Max clasped his hands in front of him and seemed to reason with the older man.

From what you could gather, Albert was too tired for the younger man’s antics, and gave him twenty minutes before everyone had to be out. You didn’t blame him. Hell you only blamed yourself for not asking more questions about this gathering.

Sampson watched the conversation as closely as you, and you wondered if he was even Max’s dog. You doubted it. So you sunk deeper into your seated position, and heaved a sigh as your hand stroked the hound’s fur.

Albert took several long deep breaths as he wrenched the fridge open and grabbed one of the last of Max’s shitty beers. It wasn’t like he drank much, but after a long day at work, and now this, he needed something to take the edge off. He cast an irritated eye around his once very orderly home, and was about to roll that watchful gaze at the sight of the idiotic smatter of articles Max had taped up when something stopped him.

Someone.

For a moment, he stared; raised the cold drink to his lips, and watched. A young woman was curled up next to that mutt that was supposed to intimidate, and he watched as you held a fearless hand out with a little treat on it for Sampson to devour.

Albert’s eye twitched. You were young. Very young. And definitely sober. Your movements weren’t sluggish, and there were no bottles near you aside from-

Oh what a diligent little girl…

Aside from the water bottle sitting by your bare thigh.

You were pretty- very pretty. Your hair was a little untamed and he wondered if that bicycle was yours. Judging by the light muscles in your legs, it was definitely yours. Albert drank again. You wore a little sundress that was bunched up and wrinkled around your legs, and a cardigan that looked too big for you.

A-fucking-dorable. Absolutely adorable.

And was that a damn ribbon in her hair? Wrapped up like a little present just for me? How considerate.

Albert sighed, and quickly made a list of what would be needed to perfect an interaction with you. He saw your eyes flicker nervously to him a when you thought he wasn’t looking…once, twice, three times…Come on little bunny look at me one more time- ah. There you go. Good girl.

But as much as he wanted to stride over to you and drag you to his room or basement by your hair, he decided on a different approach. One that felt very much like torture, but it would at the very least distract him from wanting to throttle his brother. So, the older man sucked in an irritated breath and walked briskly past the gathering, past you and Sampson -though he didn’t miss how his foot brushed against your toes- and went to his room. He shed his work shirt, and ran a hand through his hair as he contemplated his next move. Albert knew you had watched him as he walked down the hall, so you acknowledged his presence and you were attentive. As he stood there he even let himself imagine that you followed him to his room and begged for his forgiveness-

Fuck.

The older man looked down at his pants, and saw his cock twitching as it strained against the fabric. Closing his eyes, one arm braced against the wall, he palmed himself and imagined it was your little hand stroking him instead.

It took thirty seconds for him to spatter cum inside his pants.

Albert gasped to settle his breathing, and twitching limbs as his sensitive cock shifted in his ruined pants. He wanted you. Badly. With that thought in mind, the older man made quick work of stripping himself, and changing into fresh clothes before he grabbed his beer and slowly walked back to the living room with a practiced air of distain and irritation.

Again he had to pass you to get into the living room, and ‘accidentally’ brushed your foot a little harder this time; he murmured a quiet “Sorry” but paid it no mind as he plopped himself down in one of the chairs- conveniently close to you. He didn’t even look at you- he wanted to see if you actually cared-

“E-excuse me?”

You had watched the man walk off with a tight jaw, and return about ten minutes later in fresh clothes. It was like a blow to your gut when you imagined how tired he must be; probably returning home from work only to find this. His voice was soft when he had apologised for bumping into you the second time, but if you were honest, his apology only made you feel worse when you should be the one apologising. Hell you shouldn’t even be there.

So in favour of repairing the brittle status-quo, you shifted on your knees away from your furry friend, and moved a little closer to the man as he stared at the articles pinned to the wall. You spoke gently to get his attention and you saw him cast you a slow look of indifference.

His gaze pinned you to the spot, but you tried to not get struck by his sharp blue eyes, and forced some clumsy words from your mouth, “A-Albert, right? Um…I didn’t know- that is…uh…I’m really sorry about all this. I didn’t know this wasn’t Max’s house…I can’t…” you sighed, “I’m just so sorry.”

Well that was a mess.

But Albert relished your nerves. You should be nervous. It was a blessing the basement was empty or who knows if Max’s little party might have found his newest guest…and then he wouldn’t be able to play with you.

Albert watched you, and took another drink before looking away and nodding to his brother, “You’re a friend of Max’s?” He asked you.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head defensively, “Me? No. No I’m the designated driver so to speak…I’m Ellen’s little sister.” You pointed to your inebriated sibling, “Sort of got roped into coming. If I had it my way I would be laying on the couch with some ice cream.”

He eyed Ellen for a moment in distain, then looked back to you. Beautiful little you.

Albert cocked a brow, “Your daddy lets her run around town like that?” He asked chidingly towards your sibling in her intoxicated state, and he watched an array of emotions flicker over your face at his question. Interesting.

“N…no. Well, he’s not really in the picture.” You sighed and absently rubbed Sampson, which caught Albert’s eye. It was odd to see the dog so…docile.

“He doesn’t usually like strangers.” He murmured as he shifted to look down at you a little better now. His interest was growing the more you knelt beside him.

Pretty.

Young.

Sweet.

Open.

Attentive.

Naive.

Malleable

A little laugh bubbled out of you, “Well I think I might have bribed him a little,” you took out your almost empty baggie of snacks, “I hope that’s okay…this isn’t my first time being in a strangers house to watch over my sister and ending up sitting with the house dog or cat. Thought it might be nice.” You rambled on.

Albert squeezed his drink -wishing it was your throat- and grinned, “Can’t complain. The old man could use some company.” Not the only one.

You laughed again. He liked that sound. He wondered what you would sound like whimpering as he-

“Yea, Max joked that if I was too nice to him he wouldn’t let me leave.” You smiled easily and looked back down at the black dog that rested near you.

Albert almost laughed at your words. Sampson wasn’t the only old dog that would rather keep you to himself.

She’d probably look pretty in chains…

“That’s true. He’s very…territorial.” The older man said, and smirked as he gazed down at your sweet form. If he turned his head just right he could see down your dress…fuck…no bra? Albert already felt himself twitch in his pants again.

He wondered if you wore any panties.

Albert could have come right there again just at the thought.

“Well I think he’s sweet. He’s yours?” You asked, shyly.

He nodded. Now, you were looking up at him with undivided attention, just like he wanted. Some charm and garnered sympathy was all it took, too.

Whether it was because you felt terrible and wanted to make him feel a part of the gathering or something else, you weren’t sure. But you knew he had beautiful eyes and a nice voice, so you happily payed attention to the sweet man.

You shifted a little closer and leaned up onto your heels to place your arms on the side of Albert’s chair, “By the way, I’m y/n-“

“Lollipop, there you are!” Ellen yelled far too loudly when she remembered you existed.

Albert watched you squeeze your eyes shut.

Lollipop? Christ please tell me that’s her nickname for a reason because I’d give her something to suck on…

You sighed and slowly opened your eyes to look over at your sister who was smiling at you, and you grimaced as she munched on a dog treat. “Hi Ellie.” You replied, hoping she wouldn’t get all lovey-dovey now that she was inebriated.

“Why’re you over there? Come sit with us!” She slurred and waved you over enthusiastically.

Albert watched you closely, almost wanting to speak up for you to tell her you were staying right there perched by him. But evidently, he didn’t need to.

“I’m okay over here…Albert’s keeping me company.” you said, and unconsciously patted his arm. Albert almost jumped at the feeling. It seemed your refusal was enough for her, as she turned away and shrugged, leaning into the man next to her. Then you looked back at Albert and found his focus on you already, “I…I hope you don’t mind. I’m not much of one for…those sorts of things…”

A relieved sigh left you when you saw a look of understanding on the older man’s face, “Are you sure you’re the younger one?” He teased you in a quiet voice, finishing his beer, and spreading his legs.

You nodded and rolled your eyes at the question you had heard a million times.

“Positive…plus…” you beckoned him a little closer and he relented instantly, “I think it’s worth saying that one of those bowls of chips are actually Sampson’s milk bones…and while I like to try new foods, I’m a little sceptical…” you said with a cheeky laugh, which only continued when Albert’s eyes widened and his head whipped around to inspect the dishes.

“For fucksake…” he whispered under his breath, and when he turned back to you, your hand was covering your mouth as you hid your laughter. But it faded and that remorseful look came back to you when you remembered this was his home.

“I’m really sorry about all this…” you whispered, but then noticed just how close you and Albert had become and sucked in a breath. He was less than a foot away, and his breath fanned across your cheeks; you were a little dazed, and noted how soft his hair looked.

He smirked, and shook his head, “You didn’t do this…and besides, it seems having an idiot for a younger brother payed off since I get to talk with a pretty little thing like you, hm?” Albert perched his chin in his palm and gazed at you, now only a few inches away.

Your words died on your tongue.

“Well…I…um. Wait you’re brothers?” You asked, trying to find a single coherent thought.

He breathed out a laugh and nodded, “Yes ma’am, Max over there is my baby brother if you can believe it…”

You looked over at the mentioned man, and shrugged, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but intoxication makes you age faster…so if I’m honest I would have guessed you were the same age.” You said softly, a heat rising to your cheeks when you saw the small grin on Albert’s lips.

He has nice lips…

“Now you’re just flattering me.” He murmured, still gazing at you from his perch.

Your cheeks burned. “N-no it’s true! I mean Max isn’t bad looking but…you’re-“ again, your words wouldn’t come out. Especially not now with yourself halfway to severe embarrassment. When you realized how forward you were being, you sank down onto your calves, now having to crane your head to look up at Albert if you did have the courage to do so, but in that moment, you didn’t.

And Albert was having none of that. He clicked his tongue in a tsk, which instantly made you look up.

So responsive.

“I’m what, sweetheart?” He cooed to you.

Come on my pretty girl…tell me.

You couldn’t help it. Your heart leapt in your chest at the pet name.

Deciding to take things a step further, he reached out with his free hand, and brushed some hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, “Hmm? What am I?” How far can I push you?

Your eyes fluttered at his touch, but you quickly snapped out of it and blinked, “Well you’re… handsome. Definitely.” You murmured, and looked away to try and seem aloof, even though you were far from it. His hand was huge and warm against your cheek as it engulfed it.

“That’s sweet of you to say, y/n.” He whispered and drew his hand away, which you missed instantly. “Why does she call you lollipop?” The question had been sitting on his silver tongue for six minutes. He needed to know.

Your cheeks burned even more and you moved some of your wayward hair away from your ear, “O-oh. Um…they were my favourite candy when I was a kid. Still love them and I get made fun of for it because they’re childish.”

Talented tongue then.

Albert nodded, “Well that’s not very nice.” He said with a little pout that made your eyes flick to his lips again.

“Well people aren’t always very nice.” You whispered, the weight of your words all too heavy.

Your breath fanned across Albert’s face and he had to keep himself from inhaling deeply.

“Do you think I’m nice, sweetie?” He murmured, tilting his head to the side. You had come closer again, though you didn’t even realise it.

You nodded, “Uh-huh.”

“I think you’re nice too.” Came his whisper that make your pulse quicken and a heat stir in your belly-

“Looollliiii!”

Both you and Albert blinked and turned towards the sound of your sister. Usually her sing-songy voice calling your name would set you at east to get out of the house as soon as possible, but this time, you didn’t want to go. You cursed her timing too.

“Let’s gooo!” She hopped on the spot where she stood, and nodded to the door.

Not in the mood to fight, you slowly stood, and found that Albert did too. He had his arms crossed, and you had to fight with yourself to not stare at his arms.

“It was uh…really nice meeting you, Albert.” You said with a shy smile; the older man was barely a foot away, but you didn’t move. Even when he grasped your chin and tilted your face up to his, you just stared back at him with your cheeks ablaze.

“I hope I’ll see you again soon, sweetie.” He murmured and stroked your chin.

“Come oon!” Ellen wailed from outside.

You sighed and shook your head, “I am sorry again for this mess…take the rest of these for Sampson…I think he might need some new snacks after tonight.” You smiled and bit your inner lip to keep from laughing.

But Albert didn’t smile back. If he did, he might not have restrained himself from leaning down to bite that lip or suck it until you were begging him for more. But he managed to keep his cold eyes gentle, at least long enough to fool you into thinking he was harmless. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite, bunny.”

Don’t let the bedbugs bite, bunny.

His words ran rampant in your mind as you drove your sister and a friend to her apartment. Even when you hauled your bike out of the truck and pedalled home, you didn’t notice the black van that followed you from afar as you remembered how his hand felt on your cheek and chin.

You didn’t even remember getting into your apartment or into bed, but what you did know was that tomorrow was Saturday, and your day off, and that you were going to go back to that house and apologize.

That poor man deserved that at least. Perhaps some fresh cookies…

When the warm morning sun shone through your window onto your face, you took a long breath to calm yourself. There was something about that man that made you nervous…but nervous wasn’t the right word. Something akin to nerves but so much warmer. Balancing the plate wasn’t an option with your bike, so you decided a long walk and bus ride would have to suffice.

You checked your watch for the fifth time once you got off the bus, even though you didn’t have an appointment. It felt like you did though, especially with how much your hands were trembling and your heart was beating frantically. South Irving st. ha d never seemed so long and so short at the same time. Once you passed 7735, it seemed the houses jumped right to 7742, and you were confronted with the brick house you had pulled your sister from just ten hours ago.

With a long, deep breath and a twisted gut, you walked up the path, and to the front door. You knocked before you could back out, but then your logical brain kicked in and you realized you didn’t even know if he would be home.

But you couldn’t dwell on your possible mistake for too long, as the door in-front of you swung open, and you were greeted with those same blue eyes that had plagued you all night.

“Well, what do we have here?” His shocked expression melted into one of mischief; you didn’t need to know it was actually self satisfaction.

What a good girl…coming back to me so soon.

Your cheeks were instantly scorched, but you tried to keep yourself calm, “Hi Albert…um, I just felt so bad about last night and I doubt Max helped you clean up…so I made you some cookies this morning,” you held up the plate, not able to meet his eyes, “A peace offering.”

Albert smirked, and tilted his head at your inability to look at him.

Just grab her and tie her to the bed…Max isn’t home so make her scream-

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? Come on in., y/n.” He said gently, taking the plate from you and moving aside; but not enough that you could move without brushing against his front to get in. He almost groaned at the feeling of your chest against his as you slipped inside.

Now as you looked around, the house resembled much more of a home than a fraternity house. It was very tidy, and actually very comfortable; you started to wonder if Albert had a girlfriend who helped with the cleaning, because in your experience, most men didn’t clean like that.

But most men weren’t Albert.

You walked into the kitchen behind Albert and watched him place the cookies down. “Would it be terrible if I indulged?” He asked you; the double meaning, however, was lost on you.

“It would be terrible if you didn’t.” You chirped back with an encouraging nod.

Albert felt himself pulse in his pants; imagining you saying the same words right before he’d force himself inside you and watch you cry out. He bit into the cookie and moaned, half from the taste, and half from the subtle rock against the counter he did. “Might have to hire you to make these for me all the time.” He joked once he recovered.

“Oh you wouldn’t have to pay me. I’m just happy to give you something yummy! I’m glad I caught you today…wasn’t sure if you’d be home.” You said, not knowing whether to get comfortable or walk to the door.

Albert took another bite lest he ask if you could be the yummy thing you’d give him so willingly; he began walking towards you, and you gathered it was time to go. “I get weekends off, so if you’re ever in the neighbourhood, you know when to find me.” He said. But instead of walking to the door, he sat at the couch, and you took that as an invitation.

As you sat down, you failed to notice how the older man shifted closer to you so once you settled, and successfully invaded your space- after all, it would be rude to move away. You wore another dress that day- a little soft blue one that you didn’t wear too often. Albert took another bite of the cookie, and chewed it thoughtfully, at least that was what you thought. You didn’t need to know that he was thinking of anything he hated to keep himself from coating the inside of his pants with his cum again.

“How did you sleep?” He asked, turning a little to see you better; the last bite of the cookie in his hand.

You bit your inner lip to keep from smiling and blushing. He didn’t need to know that you had woken up with ruined panties, “Oh not bad. Got home late after dropping everyone off.” You shrugged and shifted, but your knee brushed his in the process.

Albert grinned gently, and rested his head in his hand as he braced his elbow against the back of the couch.

“Such a good girl…bet your daddy would be proud of you.” He murmured, watching you so closely. He had said the same word last night, and you had reacted…he was curious if you would again.

Albert soaked you in. How your face glowed and your hands trembled; how you couldn’t look him in the eye.

You’re going to be mine.

Then he blinked, and his voice was light, “I’m so sorry, I’m being rude. Did you want one of those delicious cookies?” He asked as if nothing had happened.

You grinned at his kindness, “Oh, sure. Just a half is okay.” You said, not wanting to take away your gift from him like a greedy child.

Albert returned your grin, but you missed the dilation of his pupils, “Open.” He said, and held the last bit of cookie he held in his hand to your lips, which made your brows pinch in surprise; but before you brain could catch up, you parted your lips and let him place the cookie in your mouth. Albert hummed in satisfaction, and held your chin as you chewed, “Good, isn’t it?” Came his lofty whisper that made your head cloudy.

So fucking obedient

You could only nod slightly.

He could see the dazed expression on your face- Albert might not have been terribly experienced in the art of seduction, but he knew that the girl in his hand was at his disposal.

“You like me, don’t you sweetheart?” Albert purred, leaning closer to you. He was growing greedy.

You finally looked away and shrugged half-heartedly.

“Ah, look at me.” He chided you with a tap to your nose.

You swallowed and your eyes fluttered.

“You like it when I touch you?” He cradled your cheek, drawing small circles by your mouth.

You nodded again.

“Say it.”

“I…I like it when you touch me.” You whispered.

“Yeah?” Then he pulled away and relaxed into the couch, “Do you want to touch me?”

You fought to think. What did he say?

“Yes.” You breathed out, your mind was completely gone.

Albert hummed in satisfaction, and sucked in a breath.

This is going to be fun.

Without a word, he took your hand in his, and brought it to the crotch of his pants where his cock was hardening quickly. He flattened your palm and used it to stroke himself, grinding his hips into your hand, “You feel that? You did this. I was fine until I saw you last night…I fucking came in my pants when I went to change. Thought about fucking you right there in front of my brother and your sister…” he rasped. His predatory eyes were locked onto yours.

You stared at him, not able to move or speak.

“Did you get all wet for me, sweetie? Let daddy check.”

Just like that, your brain shut off.

“Come here,” he cooed, pulling on the hand that he held against himself. You stood up and came to stand between his spread thighs as he continued to stroke himself. He stared at you for a moment, then reached under your dress to pull your panties down and growled when he saw the darkened patch where your cunt had been.

Embarrassment should have frozen you, but like a woman possessed, you placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of them. You knew you should be concerned, but your mind was empty. Perhaps it was the shock of the sweet older man -who you had known for a total of 13 hours- now grasping your soaked panties in his hand and raising it to his nose, or maybe you were just naive to fully understand what was happening.

He sucked in a long breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me what a mess you were making, sweet thing?” Albert murmured; you felt his large hand around your arm, and pull you into his lap, “You’ve just been torturing me, you know that? That’s not very nice of you…” he pouted and tilted his head to the side.

Your lips parted, and you fought to think, “I…I’m sor-“

“You’re sorry?” He cut you off, “Is coming back to my house in a little dress like that…with cookies and soaked panties with no intention of letting me have a taste…sound sorry to you?” Albert mocked you.

A taste? But the cookies were for him-

“I’m not talking about those cookies.” His eyes seemed to grow predatory the longer he stared, and it wasn’t until the fabric of your panties brushed against your thigh that you noticed he was rubbing them against his pants to stroke his cock. “I’m talking about that cunt between your thighs that I could smell as soon as I opened the fucking door.”

Gone was the lofty, gentle voice you had heard before. Now all you could hear was a low growl that settled into your bones.

Your mouth dropped open as you listened to those depraved words leave his lips. Never in a million years did you think that he would be relaying such filth to you, and you certainly didn’t think you would listen, but there you were.

“Come on, where’s that pretty voice of yours?” He rasped, slipping his free hand into your hair before grasping it painfully, “Answer me.” He snapped.

You jumped in fright and fought to find your words, “I-I just…”

“You just? You’ve gone all silly, hm?” Albert soaked up your embarrassment, and rocked into his palm, “Or maybe you just want me to touch you?” His hand in your hair released you, and slipped down to your thighs where he paused, “Lift your dress up for daddy, sweetie.”

He saw your jaw drop sweetly at the title he gave himself.

So she likes that? What a filthy little thing…

You let out a shuttered breath, and moved your shaking hands to the hem of your dress.

“That’s it…” he encouraged you.

You pulled the hem up over your thighs and bunched it around your waist so you were completely exposed to him.

Albert sighed out a gravelly breath that sent a shiver down your spine; before you could blush from his heavy gaze, his hand was back in your hair, and those lips you had admired were against yours. You gasped in surprise, and put your hands on his chest as if to push him away, but that sweet taste was still on his tongue and it slipped into your mouth, and you were helpless. Albert groaned at the feeling of your body relaxing, and smirked to himself when he felt your little hands gripping his shirt.

His hand left his pants, and opted to wrap it around your waist to hold you tight against his body as he stood with you wrapped around him. You gasped and accidentally bit his lip, tasting blood; you pulled away and began to stutter out a meek apology but Albert said nothing as he strode to his room, and threw you harshly onto the bed.

You stared up at him, not even caring that your dress was flipped up for him to see your -shamefully- glistening thighs; he was ripping his shirt off in a flash and crawling over you before you could take a proper breath.

“A-Albert-“

“Shut up, sweetie. Let daddy make you feel good.” He rasped, pulling on your legs to shift you closer to him. The older man bunched up your dress around your waist, and pressed a harsh kiss to your navel before he was nipping at your thighs. Then, again, he paused and reached up to his lip and dabbed it before looking down at his finger.

Blood.

Your eyes went wide when you saw that his lip was definitely bleeding, but they only widened when you saw his breathing grow heavier.

“Now look at what you did. Say you’re sorry, bunny.” He murmured in a strangely sweet but stern tone.

You felt so tiny.

You couldn’t breathe.

He smacked your thigh. “Say it!”

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“You’re sorry…?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Your voice was a shell of what it usually was. Your brain was so busy playing catch up, that you could barely even register the words in your mouth.

Albert closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“That’s my good girl. See isn’t that easy?” He cooed, kissing where he had slapped.

You nodded and sucked in a breath at the feeling of his lips on your thigh, moving higher. The sensations were too much, and had you squirming to try and alleviate the intense sensations. But Albert only grinned and chuckled as he skipped the rest of your leg and planted a open kiss right on your clit.

A loud whimper echoed through the house, and it took you a moment to realise it was coming from you.

“Did that feel good, bunny?” You heard Albert ask from between your soft thighs as he did it again, “You like my mouth on your little pussy? I bet you do.” He kissed you again, but this time he sucked your clit into his mouth. Hard.

You cried out and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but Albert had his hands and arms around your hips, pinning you there for him to use you as he pleased.

“Ah, ah…hold still.” He bit your thigh, then returned to your soaked entrance, this time slipping his tongue inside you. Your eyes rolled back, and you arched your back; he ground himself into the mattress at the sound of you mewling so prettily for him. Albert returned to your clit, and sucked on it slowly. It had been years since he had done anything like it, but he caught up quickly with what made you rock into his mouth for more. He could feel you start to tense as your pleasure built up; your hands found their way into his hair and your attempts to hump his face were adorably pathetic.

“I- I…p-please I’m-“ you stuttered.

“That’s it, you’re gonna come?” He mocked you, slipping a thick finger inside you and stroking against your sensitive spot, “You’re gonna come when I get to 1, okay?”

You nodded helplessly, right on the edge.

“5.” He sucked at your clit, and you screamed.

“4.” He slipped his tongue inside you along his finger.

“3.” He slipped another finger inside you, and you felt tears running down your cheeks from trying to hold back.

“2…” he sucked at the skin of your thigh-

Then he pulled away completely. Nothing touching you.

You bolted up, eyes wide and teary.

What-

“You didn’t think I’d let you come that easy did you?” He tilted his head to the side all innocently, and rose up onto his knees.

You must have looked like a kicked puppy judging by how he chuckled mercilessly at you, “Now why don’t you take off that little dress and sit pretty for me.” His voice was ragged as he crawled next to you and nodded down by his feet.

With your eyes glued to his, you slowly lifted the dress off yourself, and let it fall beside you. In the back of your mind it registered that it was the exact shade of his eyes, and you wondered if you had done that on purpose.

Albert wondered too.

Of course she did.

She’s yours, whether she knows it or not.

Albert grinned wolfishly and blindly began undoing his belt, “You’re going to watch. And if you try anything…well you’ll find out.” He winked down at you, which you answered with a deep blush.

You watched as he unzipped the fly, and the head of his cock was already peaking out from the top of his briefs, eager and weeping pre-cum. His large hand gripped it and pulled the shaft out completely, and you couldn’t help but let your jaw drop open.

“What’s wrong bunny? Too big?” He murmured like he cared.

You didn’t say anything, only staring. Then Albert began to stroke himself, his hips bucking up into his hand after keeping himself on the edge for so long. You watched, feeling your pussy clench around nothing at the sight of the older man’s cock.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his free hand go to his pocket and pull something out; you let out a whimper when you saw it was your panties that he was now wrapping around his shaft as he pumped.

He eased his thumb over the head, and hissed at the sensation. Albert took in your sweet, desperate little form and how your hands were clenching so tightly to refrain from reaching out.

Such a good fucking girl.

“You want this don’t you?” He rasped, gripping his cock tighter to make his point, “I bet you’re making a mess on my clean bed, aren’t you?”

Your breathing came in heavy gasps, and you nodded.

“Get the fuck over here.” He growled. You barely had time to move before he gripped your arm and pulled you onto his lap.

Albert held your hip in one hand and his cock in the other. Up close now, you were nervous as to wether or not it would fit, but he didn’t let you fret too much before he was pushing the swollen head inside you.

“Ah-“ you gasped, clutching onto his shoulders. He was huge, and it felt like you were lit on fire.

“I know sweetie, but it’s going-fuck…it’s going to feel so, so good-“ he groaned and thrust up and forced another inch inside you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days at the sheer stretch of him inside you alone.

Albert was entranced by his cock getting swallowed up by your body, and he had to force himself to hold back lest he fill you his his cum right there. But oh how pretty you’d look all shocked.

He gripped your hips with both hands and pushed you down his length until your hips met his, and you choked out a pained gasp. The bulbous head of his cock dragged against your walls so firmly you saw stars, and couldn’t help but clench around him.

“You like that? Huh?” He rolled his hips and drew a moan from your lips that made his cock twitch, “I can fucking feel you, you little- fuck!” You met his hips as he rocked against you, and you both gasped at the feeling.

You wished you could form a sentence to make him as flustered and flushed as he did, but all you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life, and whimper.

“You fuck every old man who says you’re nice? Huh?” He chided you.

“N-no-“ you breathed, grinding against him, already feeling your orgasm build.

“No. I didn’t think so. You’re a good girl aren’t you? You’re mine, right?” He rasped, thrusting up against you.

Your mind was clouded with lust and you nodded.

“Say it. Say you’re mine, sweetie. You belong to daddy.”

“I’m y-yours-“ you murmured, head lolling into the crook of his neck.

That easy huh? That’s my girl.

“That’s right.” He gripped your hips even tighter until it hurt, and bucked up into you.

“I-I-“ you stammered.

“You’re going to try and come again?” He growled into your ear, biting at the skin. You nodded helplessly, and let out a sob, “Yeah you fucking come. Come on I’ll be nice.” He rasped; you swore you could feel his voice vibrate through you.

It took two more rolls of his hips for you to break, and you were well aware of the fact that your vision went dark, and your hearing was null.

Albert felt you tighten uncontrollably around him, and pressed your face into his neck when a scream tore from your throat. A gush of cum soaked his shaft, and he almost stopped breathing at the feeling. Your shaking legs and sobs sent him over the edge, fucking himself into your slick pussy until his cock throbbed and his cum began to fill you up. His hips kept rocking against you until he felt his pants grow saturated with your joined cum. Then, when he slowly came back to his body, he felt how you had slumped against him. Boneless.

So trusting.

You were almost limp, and Albert began to wonder if you had passed out as he cradled you there with his cock still inside you. But then, after five blissful minutes, you slowly raised your head to look him in the eye and Albert felt something inside him pulse with a need from the way you looked at him. There was a certain devotion in your blissed out face- an almost thankfulness.

A lovingness- it didn’t matter if it was from the brutal fucking you had just received or a true adoration. To Albert it was all the same, and he wasn’t about to let you go. It didn’t matter how it started, he was going to keep you with three words.

“My pretty girl.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @dogmatic255 @honeycovered-bandaids @ethanhawkestan @theroadreader @ebiemidnightlibrarian @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @al-shaw @katehawke

#albert shaw #the grabber thirst #the grabber x reader #Albert Shaw x reader #the black phone 2022 #ethan hawke

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idontknowreallywhy · 2 months

Text

Resurface 2 - React

Smashed out some more words on the old commute. Am writing poor Virgil’s story from both ends now - this sits somewhere in the future where it all comes back to bite him (and happens immediately after this scene).

Train fic means unedited for now so please forgive heinous errors. Also it was a toss up between “solar flare” and “rare earth minerals” (thanks @gumnut-logic) for what is hampering Five and EOS for tension purposes - had to hamper them somehow else they are a bit OP. Also one of the other Thunderbirds has Magic so… *fudges everything*

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

“HOW CAN HE HAVE DISAPPEARED? WE LIVE ON AN ISLAND!!”

“I’m doing my best, Scott, but the solar flare is overwhelming some of Five’s sensors… there are only so many overrides EOS and I can…”

“Sorry. Yes. I’m sorry, John, it’s just…”

“I know.” The precise set of John’s jaw revealed his tension but otherwise he was projecting calm, sympathetic professionalism.

Scott looked around at the various shades of brave face the remainder of his family were wearing. Allie looked sick as a dog but stood tall and his shoulders were squared. Gordon was muttering aggressively and glaring at the island infographic as if it was deliberately withholding information. Brains was whispering to MAX and recalibrating scans at the speed of desperation. Kayo’s expression had set into neutral with the slightest tension in her frame which he recognised as her readiness to spring to their defence against… whatever was happening.

What WAS happening? It had been so fast and Scott had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn’t have any answer for what happened in the seconds between Virgil cheerily entering the room bearing coffee and him bolting like a startled hare.

“And he’s not been hiding an illness? His vitals were…”

“Entirely within normal range until 14 minutes ago when there was a sharp spike in heart rate and blood pressure for 6 minutes then he…”

“Disappeared.”

“Became invisible to Five’s scans, yes.”

“Maybe he took one of the boats?” Gordon ventured.

“Negative, EOS has scanned the dry dock, they are all still down there.”

“And no unexplained life signs?” Scott knew they’d covered this but he just couldn’t accept the answer.

John sighed but answered patiently “No, Scott that was the first thing we checked.”

Scott paced and tried to drag his mind out of the spiral of imagining the various scenarios in which his brother could be somewhere a life sign wasn’t. He needed to compartmentalise. This was just another search and rescue mission.

Rescue. Not recovery. Please not recovery.

“Ok. Manual search it is. Brains, you and Max use the drones to access the caldera and the more remote parts of the western slopes. Kayo, Gordon take Thunderbird Four on a clockwise sweep to check the beaches. Alan, you and I will…”

“JOHN!” EOS‘s voice was shrill and Scott’s heart froze.

“Thunderbird Shadow has commenced her launch sequence!”

Kayo’s eyes widened in shock.

“SHADOW? What? Why?”

Everyone looked blank.

“Is Virgil in there? Can you reach him?”

“Sorry Scott, she’s already cloaked and there’s no reply on comms.”

“Stop the launch then!”

“I can’t, we’re locked out.”

“I can.” Kayo, pulled up her remote access and wrestled with the controls for a few seconds before breathing a sigh of relief. “Ok, she’s not going anywhere. Um…”

Scott was already heading for the elevator to the hangars when his sister’s uncharacteristic uncertainty arrested him. He looked back. She swallowed.

“We may have a slight problem.”

“What? What is it Kayo??” Scott knew he was raising his voice but it was that or burst into frustrated tears which was… not an option.

EOS answered first.

“Thunderbird Shadow halted her sequence on the outside of the cliff face.”

Virgil was suspended over a death drop.

“Can we lock him inside?” Gordon had clearly reached the same horrified conclusion as his eldest brother had. Kayo shook her head.

Brains stepped forward “Unf-fortunately n-not as currently configured. The p-pilot’s ability to exit is always p-prioritised over remote a-access in c-case of… c-compromise.”

“I get it. Not your fault Brains. EOS?”

“I’m working on it Scott.”

“Good, in the meantime I’ll grab a couple of jet packs.” Scott headed for the hangar again.

“SCOTT! Wait!” John had dropped the professionalism which arrested Scott’s momentum faster than a brick wall.

“What now John??”

“Let the others go. You have to change.”

“WHAT?!”

“He can’t see you wearing… that.”

Scott looked down at the dress uniform he had forgotten he was wearing and ice crept down his spine. This… was the problem? He suddenly realised John knew something that he didn’t and cursed himself for not finding out what it was already. But now wasn’t the time.

“Right. You three, take jetpacks and get up there but don’t let him get out before I’m with you. I’ll be there asap.”

“FAB.”

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continued…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #kayo kyrano #thunderangst #earth and sky #Resurface fic

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venturethroughtheveil · 11 months

Text

Beyond The Pines [Pt. I]

[Series description: Two years ago, dad died from cancer, leaving you to raise your younger sister, Vivian, alone. Your best friend, Ellie, was one of the few support systems you had until your feelings for her seemingly put a strain on your relationship. When Vivian goes missing, can you trust Ellie to help bring her back?]

[Author comments: I've put together an audio to go play along as you read. Voices are *ALL* AI-generated using ElevenLabs. I did not include Y/N's voice in order to preserve your own inner dialogue. This series will be slow-burn, and will have smut and graphic depictions of violence. 18+ only.]

[Credit to Youtube Channels Ambient City (horse stables); Hursty Outdoors (walking/snow); Music: Gustavo Santaolalla (Opening Suite; Longing; Unbound)]

Be sure to expand the audio to play from the beginning!

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You slipped a glove off, braving the winter chill to scavenge your jacket pockets.

Sugar cube.

A rare commodity for your generation; you were lucky to find a small box of them while scavenging a ravaged coffee shop. You twiddled the rock-hard substance between your thumb and index, anything to dissociate from the girls’ conversation. Something about Dina falling into a pile of shit; you tried not to smile at that.

Fresh, powdered snow crunched beneath the heel of your boots. The warm glow of faerie lights danced across the ground at the stable’s entrance.

Jackson was quiet. Peaceful. Safe. A stark contrast from the nightmarish infected and worse – bandits – roaming the mountains outside town limits.

They pass you.

“C’mere, Phantom,” The sleek, black mare whinnied and happily trotted into her refuge, “my pretty girl.”

She was a young horse, strong, with a spitfire nature. You had that in common.

When you weren’t on duty, you and Ellie used to race her and Shimmer on Cirque Trail, stopping to stuff your pockets full of wild huckleberries, which Joel made into killer pies. You frowned at the thought.

Gently, you threaded your hands through Phantom’s mane, silently thanking her for keeping you safe another day.

"Because you've been so good today," you murmur, presenting the sugar cube in a cupped hand. Immediately, Phantom gnashes it between her teeth, nose flaring.

Her face is just too comical. You laugh, wiping the slobber from your palms on your worn blue jeans.

The shrill creak of another stable door shutting disrupts the moment. Dina laughs at something Ellie says.

“Night, Ellie.”

From your peripheral, you see the woman leave.

The last six hours of patrol were miserable, from the clutch of infected you cleared to the dry dialogue between you and your friends.

Well, you were friends until three months ago at the town dance when you watched Ellie and Dina kiss. At this, you passed your glass of whiskey off to an equally dumbfounded Jesse and walked straight out of the hall, tears pricking your eyes and bile rising in your throat.

Beyond patrols with them– which, despite your pleas, Maria continued to schedule, likely to force a reconciliation – you hadn’t talked to either since.

Apart from working well together, you and Dina weren’t inseparable, so avoiding her has been relatively easy. On the other hand, avoiding Ellie, your ex-best friend, has been excruciating. No matter how hard she tried – showing up at your door in the dead of night to beg you to come outside, leaving joints on your windowsill, landing snowballs square in the back of your head – Ellie couldn’t get more than cut-and-dry responses out of you.

Eventually, she stopped trying.

Part of you was embarrassed at your childish behavior, but you couldn’t face her, not after that night.

You closed the latch to Phantom’s stable, hyper-aware of the forest green eyes that bore into your side profile.

Without a word, you make your way over toward Mike, who was on duty tonight.

“Hey - thanks again for picking up a shift so short notice, Y/N,” he gave you a sympathetic smile, “with the horde that’s passing through, we can’t be too careful.”

‘Bullshit. This is all Maria.’

“Sure, don’t mention it” Your tone was casual, but irritation and exhaustion were etched into your features. Desperate to go home and avoid Ellie – who was clearly waiting for you, you quickly scribbled in the logbook.

‘Four runners + three clickers in Tetonia. Cleared.’

You said goodnight to Mike and walked straight past the freckled girl. She was propped up against the stable entrance, brows furrowed and lips in a tight line. She looked tired.

“Uh - hey...”

You keep walking.

“…okay…”

‘Fuck off,’ you wanted to say. Instead, you shook your head and gripped your backpack tighter, eyes unable to meet hers.

No more stargazing with her. No more all-nighters snuggled up watching cheesy 1980s horror films. No more spitballing ideas for her next set of tattoos – a rabbit skull; an arrow; the numbers 000129 – she never explained that one; an ouroboros. No more. You had bigger things to worry about.

She made her choice, and it wasn’t you.

‘UGH,’ Your face scrunched up in a cringe.

She could have at least told you. While her head was in your lap – your fingers gently combing her auburn locks to the soft tune of Johnny Cash’s Hurt filling your bedroom – she was dreaming of Dina the whole time.

And you could have it all, my empire of dirt.

I will let you down.

I will make you hurt.

Heat bloomed across your face in embarrassment. You never told Ellie that you loved her – that you were in love with her – hell, you didn’t even understand it until you saw them lock lips at the dance. Now, you were cursed to watch them fall in love while you self-isolated and grew more bitter by the day.

The walk home was about thirty minutes from the stables. A good chunk of land on the outskirts of Jackson that's been in the family for generations.

Hopefully, your sister wasn’t asleep. You needed to vent.

‘If I walk fast, I’ll probably get home at 10ish.’

Fragrant pine and earth filled your frost-nipped nostrils. Even with your heavy parka, and thick, fur-lined boots, the cold settled deep in your bones. Without a flashlight, seeing your hands in front of your face would be impossible. It was that dark out.

The metal of your keys stung your battered hands. You became keenly aware of something behind you as you turned the lock. No need to reach for your pistol; it was obvious who was in your driveway.

‘How the fuck did I not notice her?’

“So, you’re stalking me now?” Without turning around, you tapped the heel of your boots against the worn, wooden deck to knock off the snow. You then kneeled to untie them. “Go home, El.” There was an authority in your voice.

Footsteps approached, crunching through the snow.

“Maybe I’m not here to see you,” Ellie shrugged, “maybe I’m here to see Vivian.”

“I really doubt that.”

You turned and looked up at her, batting snowflakes from your lashes. It was the first time you’d really studied her face in weeks.

Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, cheeks hollow as if she’d not slept or eaten, yet, with that constellation of freckles smattered across her face, the deep forest green of her eyes, those lips, she was still the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen, more beautiful than any model from those Vogue magazines your sister collects.

“You look like shit.” You lied.

“Gee, thanks.” A smile tugged at the corner of Ellie’s lips. “Can I come in? It’s cold as shit out here.”

You hesitated; time seemingly slowed as you studied her. Ellie’s eyes met yours, unwavering. That stupid cocky smirk was still etched into her face.

“Take your shoes off,” you conceded. “Don’t track horse shit into my house.”

Family pictures, odds and ends from your grandparents’ vacations to Maine, and cheesy words of affirmation your mother hung years ago adorned the entrance of your home. It wasn’t your style, but it felt wrong to take them down.

Ellie’s eyes traveled around the room, searching for changes.

The cabin was simply too spacious for just Vivian and yourself. Two stories tall, there were four rooms and three baths. Maria has scheduled to move incoming residents downstairs sometime next month. This angered you more than Viv. This was your family’s home, and you certainly didn’t want strangers sleeping in what once was your parents’ bedroom. You didn’t have any say in the matter.

Your younger sister, on the other hand, was enthusiastic. For her, it was ‘too quiet,’ being just the two of you. You couldn’t really blame her, though. Most interactions between you since your dad’s passing have stuck to mostly your venting about patrols and Maria and all the house repairs needed. Vivian would talk about her newest boyfriend – if you can even call them that – the boys never lasted more than a month.

Dad passed two years ago from cancer.

It was a devastating loss to both of you, but you especially had little time to grieve. Vivian was just 14 at the time. She’d started supervised patrols with Jesse only one week prior. Dad was proud.

When everything went to shit, you took extra patrols to cover Viv’s duties. You did this for a few reasons, to let her have the chance to be a kid and grieve, to provide for your baby sister, and to avoid facing the reality of your situation. You two were alone in the world, and you weren’t ready to raise a 14-year-old.

Ellie made the extra effort to be there for you both. She’d walk Vivian to school and training, cook dinner, and often help with chores. She’d spend ration coupons on old, crumbling makeup or cheap-smelling candles that your sister adored.

It wouldn’t be totally out of character for Ellie to walk all this way to check on Viv, not at this hour, though, and you both knew it.

‘So why did you let her in?’

You set your shoes down at the entrance, inviting Ellie to do the same. The grandfather clock in the adjacent dining room read 10:13 pm.

“I’ll tell Vivian you’re here. I’m gonna head to bed –“

“Come on, Y/N,” Ellie grabs your arm, “I can’t live like this anymore. You don’t answer the door, you won’t talk to me,” she grips you tighter, “you won’t even fucking look at me.”

Her touch burned your skin. You try to yank back your hand to no avail. She was much stronger than you.

“I fucking miss you, I miss my best fucking friend, and I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Her eyes are pleading, desperate.

“Let go of me, asshole,” you demand in a whisper-yell. “you’re gonna fucking wake Viv.”

But it was useless; Ellie’s eyes were determined, glossy, as if she were on the verge of tears.

She pulls you closer to her, chest pressed against yours, and you’re sure she can feel your heartbeat pounding out of your ribcage. This is too close. Intimately close.

“Talk to me. Say what you need to say.” She demands. “yell at me, hit me – anything – so we can move on and pretend you haven’t been acting fucking insane the last few months.”

Her lips are too close to yours.

“Don’t make me.” Your voice was small, eyes welling with tears. Emotions that had been bottled for the past three months. It was your turn to beg. Beg her not to do this. Not here, not ever. All you wanted was to grieve the loss of your friendship and move on so you could get your shit together for your sister. There was no room for weakness in your life anymore. Cutting her off is easier than a painful rejection.

Ellie’s eyes searched yours for an answer, and her lips were pulled in a frown.

“I need to know, Y/N.”

‘Don’t do it.’

You weren’t the best at impulse control. It was a trait you got from mom, something you thought you’d begun to improve at. But the body heat between you, the desperation in Ellie’s eyes, and her nails digging into your now-bare shoulders were too much.

Ellie’s lips were chapped compared to yours. Salty from the tears that had flown moments prior. The kiss was innocent, sad. Your lips moved gently against her still ones. This wasn’t how you dreamt it happening.

The kiss was over as soon as it began.

Ellie pulled back, freeing you from her iron grip. You both stood there, facing each other for an eternity. The grandfather clock ticked loudly.

She looked dumbstruck, cheeks blooming red, and it wasn’t from the cold.

“Shit”

White-hot shame finally engulfed you as you realized what you’d just done.

‘So much for self-control.’

Without another word, you grabbed the jacket at your feet and rushed upstairs, two steps at a time.

Part of you wanted to seek refuge in your sister’s room, cuddle up, and cry into her shoulder like when you were kids and mom and dad would have screaming matches downstairs. Instead, you barged into your room and locked the door behind you.

Ellie doesn't follow.

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iwaoiness · 2 months

Text

Oikawa leans his head against the wall against which the bathtub is recessed. The golden rays of the afternoon sun cascading through the open window above him, spilling across the bluish tiles of the room, turning them into shimmering mirrors that reflect the dance of light, transforming the bathroom almost into a sanctuary. With his long legs dangling over the edge, Oikawa gently swings them as he hums, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

He thinks about how long it will take to forget the patterns that decorate it.

Then, the tranquillity is interrupted by the sound of wet footsteps approaching, accompanied by the gentle spill of water from the tub as another body joins him. Oikawa smiles and looks down as a darker, more pronounced leg, submerged up to the knee, rests on his thigh. He likes the contrast of their skins, the warmth they share each time they connect.

"And you have the audacity to complain about me when I take too long to rinse" He playfully taunts, lifting his gaze to meet Iwaizumi's. He too leans against the wall, his head tilted towards him, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Hajime has always been handsome. But now, with damp hair falling over his forehead like when he was a kid, cheeks kissed by the warmth of the bath and August sun and emerald green eyes sweetened by sunlight, he is ethereal.

Tooru thinks about how long it will take before he misses Iwa-chan's gaze.

"Do you forget that you came in ten minutes before me?" He gently taps Oikawa’s knee with his and Oikawa rolls his eyes amusedly.

"Details, Iwa-chan."

And silence opens up between them, soft and comfortable. Oikawa hums again, taking Iwaizumi's hand as he gently places it on his thigh, palm up. Tooru's smile widens as he slowly intertwines their fingers, fascinated by the way they fit together.

Oikawa thinks about how long it will take to forget the warmth of Iwa-chan's skin.

They stay like that a little longer, listening to the echo of birds in the distance and the trickle of water. Years ago, when they were so small that the bathtub looked like a swimming pool, the silences had been filled by childish laughter between the "Oh, no, Hajime-chan, Zilla-chan sinking, Alien-chan to the rescue!", "Code 1-4, flying saucer sunk!", "Put the bang-bang down, Hajime-chan, I have a rubber duck and I'm not afraid to use it!" and the "Water volleyball bomb, everyone take cover, Tooru!", "Ha, a duck is no match for my water bang-bang!", "No, Tooru, watch out for the Aliens, they're the traitors!", by brute splashes of water that tried to simulate tsunamis, by the volleyball hitting the tiles, by the shrill quack, quack of the rubber ducks.

And it’s fine, because now they know how to control the volleyball as an extension of themselves, the rubber duckies are safe with Takeru and Godzilla is safe too from the water on Hajime's shelf next to the toy aliens. But there are moments when Tooru would give his soul not to grow up, to halt the march of time.

Because sometimes it is not easy. Because it’s frightening to be an adult. Because it's scary to know that the weight of responsibility now rests squarely on your shoulders, and that future you thought was unreachable is already there, about to collide with your present.

Oikawa thinks about how long it will take him to get used to Argentina without his parents, without his sister, without his nephew, without his Hajime.

"Do you... Do you think we can handle this?" He whispers, too weak for his liking.

Two days left until Hajime flies to California. Four for Tooru to fly to Argentina.

Oikawa thinks about how long it will take for his heart to break, whether it will be when Hajime leaves or when he does.

Iwaizumi doesn't respond immediately, but instead, he tenderly squeezes their clasped hands and lets out a sigh. Though they've broached this topic countless times before, the lingering fear still hovers, a constant presence breathing down their necks with a cold breath.

"Yes" He says, with no trace of doubt in his voice, like all the other times. But this time, he keeps talking, his words serving as a balm to Oikawa's trembling heart. "Because it's you and me. I can't promise eternity, for none can foresee the future," he turns his head and Tooru takes a deep breath before doing the same and meeting his gaze, intense, warm and full of serenity " but I can vow to give you my all, as I have for eighteen years."

There's an earnestness, an honesty, a steadfastness in his words that causes Oikawa's smile to bloom once more, genuine and tender, his eyes shimmering with emotion, cheeks mirroring the flush of Iwaizumi's own.

Oikawa thinks about how long he will stop loving him and immediately knows the answer: never.

"If you take more than two months to visit me once I've settled in Argentina, I'll consider it infidelity and report you to your mom" He says, but there's no warmth behind his words and Hajime's deep laughter rumbles in the bathroom.

"You're really insufferable"

Tooru playfully sticks out his tongue before leaning in to finally meet his lips, yielding to the tender pressure of Iwaizumi's soft, full lips before he laughs softly against them as a large, reassuring hand envelops his waist with eager impatience.

...

hope u enjoyed this!!

inspired by this old but really old iwaoi fanart that lives rent free in my mind

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

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damedechance · 1 month

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𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖜 𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖌 (pt 6/12)

𓇢𓆸 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 || 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

Pairing: Gwynriel Status: Ch 6/12 (Read from Pt 1) Rated: E (Explicit) Summary: Three years ago, Gwyneth Berdara became the ward of the Night Institute, a band of hunters led by Rhysand who work to rid the world of vampires. After one fateful night where Gwyn unwittingly welcomes one such creature into their home, she strikes a deal with Azriel, one that is just as likely to condemn them as it is to save them.

Massive thank you to @climbthemountain2020 for beta'ing this chapter, and for overall being amazing and sweet and kind!

𓇢𓆸 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑠𝑛𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑡

VI.

Today, the sun blared bright and relentless in a powdery blue sky, and the unexpectedly pleasant winter day has rendered the inhabitants of the Night Institute lethargic, and to a hopeless degree. The three Archeron sisters–having appeared no more disturbed by Gwyn’s sudden and frantic entry than they might an errant fly–lie strewn about the music room in various states of inertia.

Elain, having stirred only to flutter her fingers in a half-hearted wave upon Gwyn’s arrival, naps in an armchair by the entrance. Both of her legs dangle over one end, while her hand is flung delicately over her face, blocking out the midday sun which stretches lazily across her upper half. A crumpled up ball of paper lies on her stomach, slowly rising and falling in time with her dozing breaths.

The ball of paper–and its numerous companions–can be traced back to Feyre. She sits cross legged on the ornate persian rug with her sketchbook propped up in her lap and her pencil scratching furiously over the pages. In fits of irritation, she groans before tearing a page from her sketchbook and tossing it carelessly onto the rug, the settee, or the low table placed in front of it. One of her trashed drawings has found its way into a bowl of fruit on the table, and another rests beside a crystal vase on the fireplace mantel.

Gwyn tracks the iridescent refractions scattered by the faceted surface of the vase. Notices how they cast soft colors over the sleek mahogany finish of the piano, or how they slant across Nesta’s pensive face–the prismatic effect softening the eldest Archeron’s usually sharp and angled expression. Blurring the edges, almost.

Nesta sits on the piano bench with her back to the keys, and stares down at a velvet dress lying across her lap. One of the many things Gwyn has ruined, the bodice is marred by a gruesome stain.

Fidgeting once more, Gwyn swallows against a lump in her throat and watches as Nesta scrapes at the stain with a fingernail. Dried mud flakes off, illuminated by the sunbeam that Gwyn avoids, and drifts to the ground. Gwyn’s foot slides forward, grinding it into the carpet with the toe of her leather boot.

“Is that all?” Nesta asks finally.

“Yes,” Gwyn says, her voice rising in unnatural inflection. She tugs the edge of her sleeve even further down. “I’m so sorry, Nesta.”

Nesta hums, nodding contemplatively down at her lap while Gwyn fails in repressing memories from this morning. The sun hanging low, practically scalding against her back as the mud seeped cool into the knees of her skirt. She kneeled in that garden, rubbing filth into the fibers of the most beautiful dress she’s ever worn, until even the smallest dot of blood was obscured. The pungency of the wet earth clings to her skin even now, despite an hour spent scrubbing her skin raw in a hot bath while she rehearsed this apology over and over–each iteration proving more and more inadequate than the one that came before.

She told Nesta she fell in a mud puddle while walking home from the gala. And now that the lie has left her mouth, all that remains within is a tongue pressing heavy and useless against her teeth, and lips groping for a suitable explanation that will never come.

Finally, Gwyn forces out, “I can take it to be laundered.”

Gwyn flinches, not only at how shrill her voice sounds, but at how the words ring so hollow. Gwyn has not left the Institute in all the nights she’s lived here, save for the one she wishes never happened. She certainly would not leave the house to see to a dress being laundered.

“What?” Nesta, usually so stern, lets out a small, incredulous laugh. “Laundered?”

Nesta’s stare is cold as ice against the side of Gwyn’s face. Gwyn swirls her tongue in her mouth until it is pressing against the inside of her cheek, and she stares vacantly at the crystal vase. The center of her palm feels like it is burning, and surely Nesta can see it. Gwyn’s transgressions, playing so blatantly across her face.

“Gwyn,” Nesta says finally. Firmly enough, that Gwyn reluctantly flicks her gaze back to her friend. She watches Nesta shake her head and set the dress beside her on the piano bench. “Truthfully, I don’t care about the dress. The stain will come out, or it won’t. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

Gwyn voids her lungs, feeling them shrivel up in her chest as tears begin to sting at the corners of her eyes. She lifts her chin so that she is looking at the overhead light fixture, and allows it to spot her vision instead of looking into the forgiving face of her only and greatest friend.

Tightly, Gwyn says, “Are you?”

“Yes,” Nesta says, pushing up to stand.

Panic constricts Gwyn’s veins, her blood running cold as Nesta snatches Gwyn’s hand out from behind her back. Gwyn is so sure that Nesta is about to turn it over, will shove the sleeve back to reveal the bandage wrapped around her wrist, that the panic does not recede even when Nesta surprises her by clasping Gwyn’s hand in both of hers.

“You disappeared,” Nesta says, anguish flashing briefly in her expression. She presses a glancing kiss to Gwyn’s knuckles, and smooths it away with the brushing of her fingers over Gwyn’s rings. Nesta continues, “I looked for you all over. I worried something might have happened, or that you were scared.”

Gwyn flushes, unsure whether it is from embarrassment or the sight of the cuff of her sleeve slowly slipping down her wrist. She can see the edge of the hastily wrapped bandage visible through the lace, and she swallows.

“I’m sorry to have worried you,” Gwyn breathes through a clenched jaw, barely restraining herself from tearing her hand out of Nesta’s grip.

“Nevermind that now,” Nesta says dismissively. “If falling in the mud is the worst to have happened to you, I am glad for the stain. It means you must have had a splendid night.”

“I did,” Gwyn says, stretching her mouth into a smile in the hopes it will sufficiently convince Nesta before any more of her wrist is revealed. Of all the members of the Institute, Nesta is the one Gwyn wants to keep it from most.

“Good,” Nesta says. “It’s settled.”

Apparently satisfied, Nesta finally releases Gwyn’s hand, and it is promptly replaced behind her back once Nesta returns to the piano.

“Any requests?” Nesta neatly slides herself onto the bench.

Gwyn allows for a moment to pass before she answers, her heart still thundering in her ears and all of her focus attuned to forcing her breaths out evenly. Every passing moment serves to wind her nerves tighter and tighter, a festering coil at the center of her belly–and she wonders just how much of it she is expected to endure before they snap completely, their ends fraying.

Gwyn steps forward, that poor imitation of a smile still plastered on her face, and watches Nesta listlessly strike a few discordant notes at random.

“Beethoven,” Gwyn murmurs, tucking her hand into the folds of her skirt. “If you have any prepared.” From the armchair in the corner, Elain suddenly emits an uncharacteristically loud and very beleaguered groan. “Beethoven is all she has prepared,” Elain gripes.

˖⁺‧₊˚⸸˚₊‧⁺˖

#gwynriel #azriel #gwyneth berdara #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn berdara #vampire au #gwynriel fanfic

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popquizhot-shot · 1 year

Text

Haven't I? -2

Thank you so much for the love on part-1<33 i hope you enjoy part 2! please comment and reblog if you like it<3 part 3

a/n- panic attacks, some crying, joel feeling like a failure, canon divergence.

You love Maria, you really do. But at this moment in time all you want to do is throttle her.

The hinges are abnormally loud and the floor creaks as you walk in to leave the supplies for the women in the house.

There’s two main bedrooms, one is the children’s and the other the master. You peep into the girl’s and find it empty, so you leave the red shirt and diva cup on her bed before making your way to the master bedroom.

The moment you step inside there’s a flash of black moving towards you and you shift to your side out of pure instinct and throw the pile of clothes at her face.

She’s bent over and glaring at you. The woman.

“Who are you?” she all but growls.

You put your arms up in front of you as if you’re calming a rabid animal, “ Maria asked me to drop this off. I’m a neighbour.”

“Why didn’t you knock?” She picks the clothes up from the floor

“I wanted it to be over quick.”

She curls her lip at you and you want to do nothing more than to get it off her face but you can’t help but feel bad for her, so you stay quiet behind your mask.

“Well you’ve done your job. You can leave.”

You brush past her silently. It’s something you do that creeps even Tommy out. If you want to, you can make someone feel your silence.

“Wait!”Her shrill voice makes you stop in your tracks and look over your shoulder.

“Thank you.”

All you do is nod and walk away.

————-

“So it went well?” Maria asks as she places the hideous coat on the counter.

“She thought I was an intruder and tried to attack me.” You deadpan as you cut cucumbers..

You can hear her trying not to laugh, “ Go to hell.”

“Thank you for doing that.” she replies, suddenly serious.

You whirl, waving the knife. “Oh, now you’re suddenly nice? Who are you and what have you done with my Maria?”

“I’m your sister, even if Tommy isn’t your brother in law anymore.”

Your mouth falls slightly apart at her harsh truth, “That’s mean.”

She slowly walks up to you, “I know.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes begin to water, how much more pathetic can you be? “Why?”

She’s face to face now, “Why what?”

A sob leaves your lips, “Why, Maria?”

She pulls you to her and hugs you as tight as she can, shushing your whimpers as you shake. It’s hitting you again, the knowledge that it’s truly over, “I’m so sorry.”

The sound of the door opening makes you pull away and turn around, bracing yourself on the kitchen counter.

“Hello?” a little girl’s voice calls out. It’s the girl who came with Joel and the woman, Tina.

From where you are in the kitchen, the both of you can see her walk into the main hall and she stops to look at the memorial of Sarah and Kevin and an immature bolt of anger flows through you. She’s standing there, the same age as Sarah, and it’s wrong of you to feel this way towards a child, but it hurts to see that she’s there and your daughter isn’t. And some horrible part of you is furious because you’re terrified that Joel has forgotten. Which is stupid, because of course he hasn’t.

She squeezes your shoulder and takes the hideous purple jacket she left on the kitchen island earlier. You can hear the both of them begin to talk and slip out. In your haste, your mask is left behind.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Why is it so hard to breathe?

He’s braced himself against the lamp post , and it’s as if all the air in his lungs has been sucked out. All he can think of is Sarah. And of you. Of his wife who disappeared from his life, like a cruel magic trick, all that he’s loved seems to disappear. And now with Ellie, and Amy. All he’s going to do is fail them, just like he failed Sarah, like he failed you-

Who is that?

There’s a woman with hair just like yours, turned away from him in the crowd. The little voice in his head tells him that he’s being an idiot but his body seems to move of its own accord and with every step towards her he finds his heart beating faster.

He sees her freeze when he says her name and she slowly turns around.

It isn’t her.

This woman isn’t his wife. Her face looks like it's been mauled by an animal and her skin is puckered with pock marks. Her eyes stare into his and he’s stammering out an apology, “Shit, I’m sorry, ma’am. Thought you were someone else.”

She only looks at him and smiles a little, but it looks like she’s grimacing and her eyes are scrunched up. She nods, “No problem.”

He turns around and leaves to god knows where, he needs to get away after making a spectacular ass of himself. He finds himself in a workshop of sorts and decides to finally fix his damn boots. It’s about damn time.

Back at the bar, the woman with the scarred face informs his brother that he needs a new pair of boots.

—---------

“Boots?”

“Yes, Tommy. The one’s he’s wearing are busted. He’ll trip and fall and probably die if he keeps using them.” you say, exasperated.

“How’d you know that? You talked to him?”

You look away, wishing you hadn’t stupidly forgotten your mask, “He came up to me, said my name, and when I turned around, looked at me and apologised because he thought I was someone else.”

He raises his eyebrows and slides his glass over to you.

You take a sip and sigh, “I’m uh, I’m still your sister right? Even if I’m not um..your sister in law?”

He looks at you as if you have two heads, “Of course you are, the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You smile and look down at your shoes, “Okay.”

“So, boots?” he raises his eyebrows and gestures to the seat.

—---------------

The town’s a surprise, she admits. To see so many new people, people who don’t have to keep their walls up and can let people in.

She scoffs at the quaintness of the movie theatre, as if everything is ever going to be the same. It’s pointless to imagine the world will go back to the way it was. Ellie seems to be as uncomfortable as she is, and she can’t help but feel like an antsy guard dog when any kid comes close to the teenager.

The woman that came to the house isn’t here, or maybe she is, maybe now she’s not wearing that mask and is acting like another normal person with no problems.

As if any of these people know what loss is.

“Amy, you okay?” Maria asks her and she subtly clenches her jaw. Leave me alone.

“I’m fine.” keep it short, curt. You don’t owe her your niceness, you already owe her your life.

“You look uncomfortable.” the woman replies.

“Not used to so many people.” and she doesn’t like it.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Amy doesn’t reply, only grunts. Much like Joel, she reason. She owes him everything, whatever this thing is between them, the unspoken glances and the smiles that Ellie pretends she doesn’t see. She can’t deny that she’s falling in love with him.

There’s a chorus of laughter and she looks at the crowd of children.

Ellie’s gone. Shit. She’s not in here.

She leaves Maria and races out, the town’s new and the kid had a penchant for getting into shit situations.

She can see her, in the distance. Walking away with all the furiousness of a little raccoon.

“Ellie!” she calls out and jogs to her as the girl turns around, “You can’t just slip away like that, what’s wrong with you?”

She grabs her shoulder and pulls the girl to her, making her look up.

“He’s leaving us.” the girl murmurs.

“What?”

There’s unshed tears in her eyes as she looks to the side, “He’s leaving us. He wants Tommy and some other woman to take us.”

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

"She's someone very close to us." Tommy says.

"I don't trust no one but you Tommy. You and Amy are enough." Joel replies harshly.

"I go with her, or I don't go at all, Joel."

"What even is her name?" he scoffs.

He wants to say your name, he really does. It's on the tip of his tongue and he says the first syllable and Joel eyes widen.

"It's Mitch. Her name is Mitch."

Joel clenches his jaw, "Alright. But I swear, she does anything, I'm not the one to be afraid of. Amy's not going to like this anyway, she'll want to probably put a bullet in between both of your knees."

Tommy huffs out some semblance of a laugh, after this, you're gonna want to take a hammer to his knees. But he doesn't trust himself to act civil with any of them, if Maria wasn't pregnant, he'd ask her to come along. But by some dumb luck, she is, so he's going to have to go with you.

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

The walk back to the house fills him with dread. It's the right thing to do, he knows that. But he's not looking forward to breaking the news to them.

The door squeaks open and he cringes and steps inside. It's dark.

There's no one in the hall, nor in the kitchen.

The stairs creep with every guilt-ridden step he takes, as if he's going to his own execution.

Ellie's room is empty, her bag is missing. He's breathing heavily. His wife would call it a panic attack, with her extensive knowledge of how people's brains worked.

In blind panic he stumbles to the main room, and it's dark and empty.

On the bed there's a note,

"Like you said, we're only cargo."

He falls to his knees, and brings his hand to his mouth to try and contain his breaths. Every memory he's been trying to repress since his wife went missing, since his baby girl's death comes back. He'd failed them, they're dead and gone because of him.

And now, he's failed the people he loves most, all over again.

All that leaves his mouth is a gut wrenching scream. All he's given in return is the echo of his own failure.

They're gone.

taglist-@daddy-din @ephemerensis@charlyrmv@bellaramseysbitch@trippoverrtt @im-constantly-fangirling@pussy-f41ry@corvusmorte@mrknifes@corpsebridenightamare@chesirecat000@glshmbl@jbcalway@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi@glshmbl

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x ofc #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #tommy miller

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youremyheaven · 10 months

Text

Kibbe Observations

Theatrical Romantics often have distinct husky voices. Morgan Fairchild, Jane Seymour, Salma Hayek, Mila Kunis (if you watch Black Swan you can listen to her speak at a lower pitch, people who have husky voices sound shrill when they speak at a higher pitch which is how Mila usually speaks)

I feel like every Kibbe type has a few celebs who intuitively always dress for their type and a bunch of others who absolutely never do lol.

Sofia Vergara, Kelly Brook, Ava Gardner, Christina Hendricks etc are Soft Dramatics who almost always wear their lines.

Salma Hayek, Joan Collins are TRs who pretty much embody TR glam most of the time.

3. Kibbe is based on vibes someone gives off, more than you would think. There are certain criteria that has to be met for each type but there are exceptions, always!!

Audrey Hepburn was 5'7 but she's a true Gamine. It's rare to see a tall Gamine but it's not impossible

Beyonce is also 5'7 but she's a Romantic even though most Romantics are short.

4. Kibbe is about image identity. That means the image you project. You can analyse the length & breadth of someone's shoulders & calves all you like but your image identity is MORE than that. I'll use an example. Mila Kunis & Sarah Hyland, pretty much look like sisters yet the vibes they give off are different.

Mila Kunis has a very sultry, sensuous "femme fatale" essence (she's verified TR) but Sarah Hyland has a more innocent but kind of mischievous, more youthful vibe. You can easily see that Mila has a more "dark feminine" energy whereas although Sarah has similar coloring and features, she still feels more light feminine.

Here she is in a very TR-esque outfit but something feels off

This outfit would look really weird on a lot of people (a tutu skirt for God's sake 😭) but she looks good in it

in this dress however, she looks like a kid who wore a grown up dress. her youthful vibe contrasts the heavy romantic vibes of this dress

However, here she looks like a complete doll. again, this look seems to suit her in a way it wouldn't suit most people.

This dress is a little too intense for her.

However she looks great here!!

I would say she's Soft Gamine

She has Gamine essence and it's the kind of styling that looks best on her

Let's compare her to Mila Kunis now

Mila, kinda looks like she's wearing a costume here. It looks very off.

Here she's in a very Romantic outfit with a dash of glamour and she looks greattt

Tea length dresses only look good on Gamines imo and here Mila looks very out of place

despite being very short, tea length dresses, even in a more Dramatic style, does not seem to suit Mila

Here she is, in a very TR look and it really harmonizes all her features and attributes.

this dress would be more flattering on a Natural type but Mila does not look like herself here

aside from the fact that this dress needed some ironing, this is probably the most TR look Mila has ever worn and it really makes her shine

5. In order to be SD, you need to have a T shaped silhouette. Broad shoulders, small waist and proportionately small hips. SDs are not "tall TRs".

6. Sofia Vergara & Joe Manganiello are my SD power couple

its sooo easy to tell that they both have similar essences and project a similar image

however, here she is with her former fiancee Nick Loeb. Sofia's overpowering Dramatic essence makes her stand out and she almost looks out of place next to Nick, who is FN. Their essences clash with each other and make them kind of awkward looking together.

There is a meme about how Brad Pitt imitates the women he's with. Let's see how he channels his different essences with different women.

Angelina Jolie & Brad Pitt are both Naturals (FN & SN) with Dramatic/Romantic essence

Together they project a very larger than life, powerful, strong and intense vibe

Here he is, with Jennifer Aniston. as a couple, they project a more grounded, couple-next door, warm vibe. they're like the cool couple on a college campus, two hot people who look good together but in a very earthy, grounded way. Jennifer Aniston is also a Natural (SN)

Brad has Dramatic essence however Jen is pure Natural. so while Brad can pull off a more intense styling, Jen would look kinda out of place in it.

The dress and leather in general is too overpowering on her

However, she really shines in outfits like these that let her true essence be reflected. everybody, especially in the last couple of years, has been imitating Rachel Green (and 90s style in general) but imo, its most flattering on Naturals because of the way clothes were designed in that decade.

Here he is with Gwyneth Paltrow. Gwyneth is yet another Natural (FN) but she has Classic essence. The thing about possessing Classic essence is that you have a perfect yin-yang balance, so nothing stands out individually since everything blends together perfectly. Brad & Gwyneth together sort of bleed into each other, their essences don't contrast each other in anyway, they almost look like siblings😭😭😭 , there is no visible polarity at play.

Brad was with 3 different Natural women yet they all projected a very distinct vibe because of their very different essences.

7. kibbe is about image and how other perceive you. its futile to obsess over width and breadth and circumference and what not. dont miss the forest for the trees. also, there is a lot of variety within each type, not all Soft Classics look the same and not every Gamine is going to look great in tea length dresses. every individual is unique.

Amy Adams is FN but she's only 5'2. imo, she has a blend of Natural+Classic essence.

IMO, she was horribly miscast in Enchantment. She does not possess the wide-eyed, gullible "ingenue" essence necessary to play a lost princess. i just wasn't convinced that she's this naive, innocent princess because Amy exhibits a more world-wise, mature and "no-nonsense" vibe.

be it in American Hustle, Arrival or Sharp Objects, she plays characters that seem to fit her like a glove. She's just very convincing in these type of roles because she seems like a grown up who knows what to do and how to get things done. She does not have the air of a ditzy, confused damsel in distress

here's Isla Fisher. i specifically chose Isla because her & Amy kind of look alike but their essences are vastly different from each other.

Isla is a verified Romantic and has Romantic + Ingenue essence and she's perfect in films like Confessions of a Shopaholic because she's convincing as a ditzy airhead who is slightly naive and very confused. (this being one manifestation of the ingenue essence) if you look at her career, she's by and large done a lot of romcoms. It's hard to imagine her in a show like Sharp Objects or a movie like Arrival because the image she projects is far more youthful and sweet.

8. there is a reason why kibbe has its roots in old hollywood. old hollywood studio system manufactured stars the way kpop companies manufacture idols today. the were assigned an image to project and each star managed by the company had their own unique appeal that set them apart from the rest. lauren bacall projects an aura thats entirely different from audrey hepburn or marilyn monroe. liz taylor is completely different from gene tierney. most big stars in those days possessed Dramatic essence, simply because Dramatic essence makes people stand out easily. its a very large, strong, intense essence and gives the individual an edge. but the market created space for all kind of stars, there were actors who had a more boy/girl next door aura, femme/homme fatale aura, a quirky,funny aura and more. these days, cinema in general lacks big stars. imo there hasn't been a truly big star in maybe the last 20 years or so of cinema because no one's projecting an image that appropriately fits them.

however, pop music has had many icons and a huge part of their success is their image. be it taylor swift or nicki minaj or even BTS. people connect to them because they have a stable image identity for others to connect to. they have lore, they switch things up and keep things interesting but there's a bedrock that is unchanging and thats what makes them "stars".

#kibbe #kibbe observations #kitchener #david kibbe #essence theory #style essences #fashion analysis #style analysis #fashion #discussion

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

The music gets more intense — heavier bass, faster drums, and the shrill screech of an alien instrument he can’t name.

Lance smirks. Oh, hell yeah. He is going to crush this level.

Heh. ‘Crush’. Because this dinky game is an alien version of candy crush, basically.

Lance takes a deep breath, narrowing his eyes and squaring his shoulders. He sweeps critical eyes over the shining little animated pictures of alien plants, carefully assessing which ones are all lined up, ready to make his final winning move and —

The game freezes.

“No!”

A loading symbol turns for a couple seconds, and then a green pop-up covers half the screen — preventing Lance from playing the game, but not from seeing the timer in the corner of his phone tick down to zero.

He lost.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Now, losing a game to a pop-up is annoying. Be it for an operating system update, a text, whatever — all frustrating.

But this particular pop-up?

Oh, this popup is a thousand times worse.

It’s bright green (like, in-your-face, kelly green), with dorky black typewriter font, and a very familiar, bespectacled icon siting proudly to the left.

Pidge.

Lance grabs the pillow next to his head, shoving it in his face and screaming as loudly and for as long as he can. Of course it’s one of Pidge’s dumbass pop-ups, and of course it came up in the middle of his game. Because Pidge has an uncanny ability to know when she can be as annoying as possible, at any given time.

After screaming himself hoarse, Lance whips the pillow at the wall, sighing. He’s already lost, and it’s not like he can out-hack Pidge. The only way to get the damn pop-up to go away is to fucking interact with it. Ugh. He glances back to his screen, reading the stupidly persistent thing.

Your phone just got hacked, loser. LOL.

Lance scowls. God, she is so fucking annoying. He angrily presses the ‘okay’ button at the bottom, because it’s the one and only option. It clicks to a new popup.

However, I have just one question for you…

Lance hits ‘okay’ again, trying to get this shit over with. He wants to go back to his game, so he can finally beat the level. (It’s humiliating, but Lance is kind of addicted to candy crush-type games. There’s something about the deep, gravelly voice that plays when a level is cleared successfully, praising you for a game well played…well. There’s no action in space, okay? Lance is deprived. If a sexy disembodied voice telling him he’s doing a good job is the only action he’s going to get, then he’s damn well going to take it.)

(In fact, when he first was blasted into space, after the whole Sendak debacle, he was bored as hell in the stupid MedBay cots for a checkup that he played the game for hours, just to hear the voice. Of course, his phone eventually died, and then he realized that even if he did bring his charger to space, there was nowhere on the stupid space castle to charge it. He now had, in place of a phone, an electronic brick, basically, and that meant no photos of his family, no texts to look back on, nothing. And he didn’t know when he’d see them again. He’d cried for hours. Thank God for Altean mind-meld helmets that doubled as memory projectors, or Lance would have cried himself into space sans helmet.)

(But, anyway. Back to Pidge’s annoyance.)

Just one, teeny-tiny, baby question… the stupid popup reads.

Lance presses ‘okay’ for what feels like the millionth time, wondering what the hell Pidge needs so badly that she’s being a shit about it.

…Can you please bring me a sandwich?

Oh, Lance is going to kill her.

He’s going to kill her dead.

With a fury he didn’t know he was capable of, Lance slams the ‘no’ option as fast as he can, and continues to slam it when it just leads him to more pop-ups that ask the same question.

“For fuck’s sake, Pidge!” he shouts, after several minutes of unsuccessful refusal.

Ugh! Little sisters are so fucking annoying. Lance hates not being the youngest anymore. How dare the universe punish him for being an annoying younger sibling for so many years.

Gritting his teeth, he finally concedes, clicking the ‘yes’ button and scowling as a stupid happy face pops up. He stomps over to the kitchen — he knows damn well that if he doesn’t bring her a stupid fucking sandwich then she’ll keep sending pop-ups because she is a jerk — and assembles the most mediocre sandwich he could possibly make, taking care to pick the only plate in the kitchen that Pidge hates (it makes a horrible screeching noise if you accidentally scratch it with your nails) to place it on. Then he stomps over to Pidge’s workshop, kicking to door open and practically slamming the plate on her workbench.

She grins at him sunnily, placing her hands under her chin and tilting her head as if she is the picture of innocence.

How dare she. How dare she use the move that Lance uses when he’s being intentionally frustrating.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly.

Lance glares at her. “Texting is an option, you thick-shelled cockroach.”

She shrugs. “You would’ve ignored my text.”

“You could always — oh, I don’t know, make your own damn sandwich!”

“Not a chance, Lance-pants,” she says, turning back to her laptop. “Not a chance.”

Lance mimes strangling her when her back is turned, Homer-Simpson style. It makes him feel marginally better.

As he stomps back to his own room, he resolves to get her back. He may not be a tech genius, but —

He smirks.

He has four older siblings. Pidge only has one. Lance has been perfecting he art of driving siblings insane since he could walk — longer than she’s been alive.

He’ll get her back.

———

based on this post

#this is so dorky abshabajsbajab #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #pidge #pidge holt #lance & pidge #team as family #youngest brother lance #youngest sibling pidge #teasing #fluff and humour #my writing #fic fragment #longpost

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scented-morker · 1 year

Text

synopsis. you’ve been harboring a crush on your neighbor since middle school, and now as junior year nears a close and prom is just around the corner, your relationship gets thrown through a loop with the introduction of a new girl. now you have to make it through seeing him with her when it’s so obvious that he belongs with you.

details. bff!Jungwon x fem!reader, neighbor au, bffs2l, ft. ex-boyfriend jake and sister wonyoung, mostly fluff, lots of pining

warnings. none

word count. 4008

You had never particularly liked windows.

A weird thing to dislike, true, but there was always something unsettling about them to you.

Maybe it’s because they were so transparent. Windows couldn’t hide anything, and hiding was something you’d been doing for a very long time.

However, there was one window you liked.

You peeked your head through the curtain, looking across and seeing the exact same window you were looking through but on the house next door.

Taped to the glass was a piece of paper, Jungwon’s messy handwriting reading ‘meet you at 7’ staring back at you.

Jungwon, your neighbor and best friend since you were six.

The paper was a fun habit the two of you had started when he got his phone taken away for prank calling your principal (it was Riki’s idea). In his desperation for homework answers, he had taken a bold sharpie to a notebook, and now it was the chosen source of communication.

You rushed to grab your things, running down the stairs and out the door, a way-too-chipper-for-seven am spring in your step when you fell into step with Jungwon.

“You ready for karaoke night tonight?” You asked, referring to the weekly karaoke night you had on Fridays. Jungwon was always ready for karaoke night.

“Oh shoot, um I actually can’t make it this week. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?” You pouted at your best friend. He’d never missed karaoke night before.

“I actually have plans with Sohee tonight.”

You roll your eyes but make sure Jungwon can’t see it. Last month when he’d told you Kim Sohee had started talking to him you had laughed out loud, which made him grumpy for the next week.

Sohee was in the grade above you, she was captain of the cheer squad, and the last time you checked, had been dating Jake Sim for the last year.

You were understandably shocked that she had suddenly become interested in your best friend.

“I thought you were hanging out tomorrow?”

“Yeah, she made plans for tonight and tomorrow.”

“Without telling you?”

“Look, she didn’t know it was karaoke night okay? Can you drop it?”

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to just be happy for your best friend.

“Yeah, of course.. so what’d you get on that science test?”

“73”

“Jungwon!” You gasp, and he laughs sheepishly.

The rest of your walk to school feels normal, just you and Jungwon messing around while complaining about the classes you’re about to enter.

“Jungwon!”

You’re cut off by the shrill voice of Kim Sohee as soon as you enter the school building, Jungwon’s phone still in your hand as you two take a picture of the top of your foreheads.

She beckons him over, and he looks at you for a second as if contemplating if he should go, but a quick nudge of your elbow has him going over to her, yelling something about sending you the picture and seeing you in class.

Your smile drops once he’s gone, turning into an awkward grimace as you navigate the halls alone— an action you’ve never had to do before, since you and Jungwon were already solidified best friends by the time you stepped foot into a school building.

‘You did the right thing,’ you remind yourself as you approach your locker.

Best friends support each other. Best friends like when the other is happy.

You slam your locker shut harder than you meant to— all those other best friends aren’t stupidly in love with Yang Jungwon like you are.

“All I’m saying is that if this was an episode of backyardigans-”

Your sentence is cut off by a car horn, and you and Jungwon both stop your steps as you turn to see who it was.

The two of you were already running a little late, because you’d stopped to get coffee before school this morning and the line was longer than usual.

You’d wished you’d just kept walking once you see who it is.

“Wonnie, do you want a ride?”

Sohee smiles her sickly sweet grin at you, and you fight to urge to make a face at her.

He looks over at you next to him before speaking.

“Uh I’m okay walking, thank you.”

“Oh come on don’t be silly, I’m already here and my dad took the top off of my car this morning!”

Jungwon glances at you again, and you give him a tight smile.

“It’s okay, Won, we’ve been doing this long enough I know the way to school by now.”

He breaks out into a goofy grin at your comment, hopping in the passenger side of Sohee’s convertible.

She grabs his face and smashes her lips to his— an action that has you immediately diverting your eyes from their direction, willing your eyes to stop watering.

When you look back she gives you a satisfied smirk, putting one hand on the wheel and driving away while your best friend sits stunned silence in the passenger seat.

That morning you’re late to class, but your teacher lets you off the hook because of the mascara smears dried down your cheeks.

Jungwon misses karaoke night again that week.

“And he yelled at me for having your number on my face, can you believe that?”

It’s Saturday morning and you’re sitting on Jungwon’s bed while you tell him about what the band director had said yesterday when you’d marched at halftime.

Jungwon had gone out with Sohee and some of the other cheerleaders after the game and forgot to text you last night, but Saturday morning breakfast with the Yang’s was part of your routine at this point.

“He doesn’t want me to do it next game— but don’t worry, no old man is gonna make me stop supporting my best friend!” You declare, jabbing your finger into his pillow.

Jungwon is quiet for a moment before speaking.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, “what do you mean?”

“Like wear my number.. if your director gets mad. Plus Sohee said it makes it look like we’re dating.”

You frown. Did Jungwon really hate the idea of dating you that much?

“Won, I mean this in the nicest way but frankly I don’t care about what either one of them thinks about us.”

“Well I do”

“What?”

He sighs, “it’s just, Sohee doesn’t like that we’re always hanging out because it kinda seems like we’re dating ya know? She wore my number on her face yesterday too and everyone asked if me and you broke up.”

You feel guilty at how happy that thought makes you. People actually thought you and Jungwon were dating.

“Okay so?”

“It just doesn’t look good if people think me and you are together and me and her actually are.”

“Won, since when do you care about what people think?”

“I just do okay? Can you just do this for me? I think I really like her.”

You make sure you’re looking the other way to hide the tears building up, “yeah, whatever won that’s fine.”

“Are you mad at me?”

You sneak a peak at his face, an action you immediately regret because looking at his shiny eyes and pouty lips only intensifies the feeling of being helplessly in love with your best friend while he chases someone else.

“No, I’m just gonna head home okay? I’ve got a lot of homework to do today.”

Jungwon calls after you, offering to do it together, but you’re already down the hall.

“Yn honey, are you not staying for breakfast?” Jungwons mother looks at you softly, and something about it has the tears immediately falling down your face.

“No, I’m really busy today so I’m just gonna head out. Thank you.”

She stares in shock as you run out the door, immediately marching up to Jungwons room to ask what was up— you hadn’t missed Saturday breakfast with the Yangs in six years.

That night you scroll through your phone aimlessly, Wikihow articles on “how to not fall for your best friend” and “how to get over a guy you never had a chance with anyway” pulled up on every tab.

It comforts you a little, and you peek out your window to see if Jungwon is in his room, already sketching out ‘sorry for ditching you’ in your newest notebook.

However, he wouldn’t have seen it because even though he’s in his room, Jungwon is pacing back and forth not paying a single ounce of attention to you.

He’s on the phone, and it doesn’t look fun with the way his hand is flailing about as he talks or the deep heaves of his chest from repeated sighing.

You watch for longer than you probably should, what first started out as trying to read his lips inevitably turning into just staring at them.

He tosses his phone onto his bed (still with the same cars blanket on it from middle school) and covers his eyes. Somehow you know he’s letting out a loud groan— probably because you’ve seen him do it so many times.

He looks your way, and at first you’re embarrassed to be caught, but then he grabs the notebook next to his bed and a giddy feeling returns to your chest.

She’s crazy

You take one look at it and let out a laugh. Normally you don’t condone woman bashing, but it’s Sohee, and she definitely is crazy.

Hate to say I told you so

He just rolls his eyes before flipping to his next sheet, looking at you hopefully.

Chem hw?

Already turned it in

He pouts, writing out a goodbye before clambering over his bed and to his school bag.

You just look down at the notes on your bed, clicking play on your Spotify as you transfer them to a new page.

A few minutes in and they’re quickly discarded, materials strewn across the comforter while you attempt a performance of Fancy by Twice in your vanity mirror.

It’s not very good, but it’s fun, and when the next song comes on you try again. This time you put on a bedazzled hat that you found in your closet, quickly turning into a one woman dance party, completely forgetting that yours and jungwons curtains are both open.

He looks up from his homework to ask you something about ions, but he leaves the sharpie hovering over his notebook, immediately letting out a giggle at what he’s seeing.

There’s laughter in his eyes as he watches you fondly for a few moments before turning back to his paper, deciding he’s done for the night.

When you finally finish your impromptu performance and collapse on your bed in exhaustion, there’s a note on Jungwons window and you have to squint to see the black writing because of the darkness outside.

Cute moves

Not only did he compliment you, but the next morning you see the familiar meeting message on his window, meaning he told Sohee not to pick him up so he could walk with you.

You practically float down the stairs, the prospect of Jungwon finally realizing that Sohee wasn’t the one for him making all of the negative thoughts from the last few weeks disappear.

“Well you’re in a good mood this morning,” he giggles when you join him.

“I’m just glad we’re walking together again, I’ve missed you these last few days.”

He smiles, bumping your shoulder with his own, “I couldn’t leave my best friend hanging.”

You hide a bashful smile behind your hair.

“And I need your help with something.”

You look up at his glittering eyes, “what’s up?”

“Well, you know prom is coming up..”

Your eyes light up, and he giggles.

“So I guess it’s true then.”

“What’s true?”

“That girls get all excited and gushy over prom,” he says, with another bump to your shoulder.

“Well I don’t know about gushy, but yeah I’ve thought about it before…” you trail off, leaving out the fact that all of your prom daydreams included him.

“That’s great!!” He doesn’t offer any context on why it’s so great, just asks you another question. “What do you think is the perfect way to ask someone to prom?”

You can’t help the excitement from bubbling in your chest, you try to convince yourself that it’s a totally harmless question, but the lovesick voice in your head can’t help but scream “HE'S ASKING YOU.”

Because come on, why else would he be asking about your perfect promposal if not to use it to give you exactly what you want.

“Well, personally I think I’d like it kinda small. Like just someone with a sign outside my window or a casual ask while on a walk or something,” then quickly you add, “but I know a lot of other girls dream about a big public ask, ya know like at a football game or in front of the whole school.”

Jungwon nods, “that’s what I thought.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“Sohee is probably a big ask kind of girl, don’t you think?”

You feel as if you’ve been slapped, and you can’t help the way you recoil.

“Uh”

“I mean I don’t know if it’s weird asking you or not, I know you’re not her biggest fan but I figure you know girl stuff better than me.”

You tuck your head down, blinking back tears as you realize he was never interested in you.

“Yeah, she definitely would be.”

He notices the way your voice seems quieter.

“Hey you okay?”

“Yeah totally,” you’re approaching the school doors now, and you cover with a quick lie, “I just realized I totally forgot to study for this quiz in chem.”

“We have a quiz?!”

Somehow, Jungwon took your embarrassed reluctance when it came to prom as excitement, as he enlisted you to help him write out a giant sign for Sohee.

(“Well you seemed so excited and I know how much you like making posters”)

So for the three hours between the end of school and the time you had to report for the football game, you sat on Jungwons floor and helped him.

Honestly, it was kind of nice. You got to sit there with someone you love, joking around and creating something.

In fact, if you forgot about what you were doing it almost felt like a date.

But then you would trace out Sohee’s name in two foot letters and remember that he didn’t want you.

“Okay, I’ve got to get ready for band… good luck tonight!”

You hug your best friend goodbye, your lips brushing his cheek on accident and leaving you blushing as you run out of his house.

A small part of you didn’t want the team to win, because maybe if everyone was upset about the loss, Jungwon would decide the moment wasn’t right to carry out his “epic promposal plan” (Yes he named it that himself).

But you tried to shake that thought out of your head, immediately feeling guilty when you remember how long Jungwon had been looking forward to this game.

“Go Tigers!!”

From where you stood playing in stands, you could just see the top of Sohee’s face. It would be a lie to say she looked anything less than perfect, her dark hair shined in the large lights and her kicks were flawless everytime the team scored.

And as much as you told Jungwon you hated football, you spent the entire last quarter on your feet, screaming your head off for your best friend and his teammates.

The other team was up by three with less than a minute on the clock, and you let out an inhuman noise when Jungwon catches a throw in the end zone, officially winning the game for your school.

You wish you could run down as soon as the buzzer sounds to give Jungwon a hug, but unfortunately you were stuck in the stands until the rest of the crowd dispersed.

It’s only when you see him with the rolled up paper that you remember your after school activities that day, and your eyes shoot back to the view of Sohee in front of you.

This time instead of tumbling or cheering, she’s standing still and— flirting with her ex boyfriend?

Your eyes go wide as saucers, mouth falling open as she playfully shoves Jake’s shoulder, giggling like a schoolgirl.

You wave your hands at Jungwon, trying to get his attention and call the plan off, but he either doesn’t see you or doesn’t care, continuing his path to the cheerleader.

As much as you hated them together, you couldn’t help but want to stop Jungwon from seeing her with Jake.

But all you can do is watch as he locks eyes on them, dropping the still rolled sign as he walks up.

“What the heck?”

Sohee turns to look at him, and she doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty, keeping her hand on Jake’s pec as she turns to look at the boy she’s been leading on for over a month.

“What?”

“I- I just thought-”

“Thought what?”

He doesn’t even respond, just turns around and walks away, stomping mud into the discarded sign as he does.

“Won?” You tap on his back door, hoping he hadn’t locked himself up in his room.

He didn’t, and it only takes a moment before he’s swinging the door open.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t look as upset as you thought he would, and you feel a weight lifting off your chest at his lack of bloodshot eyes.

You pick up the sign he had left on the ground, and he glared at it.

“I don’t want it, I mean you did most of it so if you want to you can keep it but-”

You cut him off, “Jungwon I don’t want to keep it.”

“Then why?”

You beckon him out the door, leading him further onto his own deck.

You roll out a small piece of the paper, grabbing it securely at the top before ripping it with as much power as you can muster.

The confusion on his face has now changed to a smile, and his eyes glitter as you take the piece you tore off and rip it into even smaller pieces, depositing them into his fire pit.

“You try.”

He practically runs over, ripping a huge chunk off before layering it with another one and ripping both.

Before long he’s got the entire poster in his fire pit, and there’s a real smile on his face— one you haven’t seen in a while since he started bringing Sohee around. It only gets bigger when you grab a pack of matches from your purse.

After lighting the pile of promposal, you watch as he collapses into one of the chairs around the fire.

“You always know exactly how to make me feel better,” he laughs, “even if this does feel a little bit crazy.”

You shrug, owing the idea to your older sister, “it worked for Wonyoung, we burned all her ex boyfriends hoodies and she never cried over him again.”

Jungwon laughs, “you know, I actually didn’t cry at all.”

You sit next to him, propping your head up on your hand.

“Really?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know why. Honestly I didn’t really feel sad, I just felt really embarrassed.”

“There’s nothing to be embarassed about, I doubt Jake thinks of you any differently, and really she should be the one embarassed. I can’t believe she used you like that.”

Jungwon nods, “yeah, Jake already texted me and told me he thought it was messed up. Apparently she used me to make him jealous, but when he found out he turned her down.”

You can’t help the satisfied smile from making its way onto your face, a small snort leaving your mouth.

“Guess she’s going to prom alone tomorrow.”

Jungwon looks up at you, “are you going?”

“No, I think I’m just going to stay home and study. I don’t really like most of the people at our school.”

He pouts, “but what about your perfect prom to go with your perfect high school experience?”

You shrug, “that was when I was younger Won, I think I’ve just realized it’s unrealistic.”

He looks like he wants to say something else, but at that exact moment Mrs.Yang yells out the window that it’s too cold and the two of you either need to come inside or postpone your talk until tomorrow.

You yell back immediately, promising to send her son back in.

“I need to get to bed anyway. Goodnight Won, I’m glad you’re not sad.”

He hugs you close, “goodnight love.”

You do not in fact, get to bed after that, because the nickname is all you can hear and think about everytime you close your eyes.

Coffee?

You’ve never felt so grateful to see Jungwon’s handwriting from across the way, and you send him a thumbs up before closing your curtains to get dressed.

The two of you spend most of the day in the cafe, talking and joking around just like old times, and you think that maybe this is enough.

Maybe Jungwon doesn’t have to love you back, he just has to love you the way he always has.

So that night when he holds up a notebook with “sure you don’t want to go?” on it, you smile.

Maybe next year

I’ll hold you to it

He grabs the jacket to his suit, and you close your curtains. If you leave them open you’ll never get anything done, you’ll be too busy waiting for him to come home.

Which would be no time soon, considering the dance didn’t end until eleven and it was barely after six.

You lasted about half an hour actually studying, before deciding to watch a movie to pass the time. It was some cheesy high school movie, and you hoped the cheesy prom scene would make you feel better.

You and Jungwon had watched this movie at one of your sleepovers, because you loved romance movies and he loved you so of course he watched it.

You pause.

Jungwon loved you— surely it was platonic, but he loved you.

You click pause on the remote, ripping your curtains back to see multiple papers taped up on Jungwons window.

I love you

⬆️ I wrote this last year and then buried it deep into one of my drawers, but I think it’s time to bring it out.

I never loved Sohee, not the way I love you. I think deep down I knew it was always you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to admit it.

I love you, and not in the best friend way.

You read it three times before your vision gets too blurry to make the letters out anymore.

“Mom! Do we still have Wonyoung’s old prom dresses?”

In five minutes your mother is in your room, multiple dresses in her arms.

“I knew you would change your mind, come here.”

The party is in full swing when you arrive, and you see Jungwon standing out on the dance floor awkwardly next to Sunoo.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth, and as if he has yn senses, Jungwon’s head whips around.

His eyes find your immediately, and he starts cutting through the crowd of people towards you, a huge smile on his face.

Sohee cuts in for a moment, but Jungwon is tired of her getting in the way of you, and shoulders past her.

Neither one of you say anything when you finally stand in front of each other, but you open the small clutch your mother had sent with you.

He watches with fond eyes as you unfold a peice of paper.

I love you

And he kisses you right in the middle of the dance floor, just like every high school movie you’ve ever watched. Except it’s better, because it’s Jungwon.

#swift.series #enhypen jungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon oneshot #jungwon oneshot #enhypen jungwon fluff #enhypen jungwon scenarios #jungwon scenarios #enhypen x reader

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moobloom-mention · 4 months

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Is a Good Night's Rest Really Too Much to Ask For? (Yes. Yes It Is.)

Summary: Macaque is...a lot of things. But he'll take the title of "a busy monkey" just for time's sake.

Whether he's listening to the Sisterhood's neverending list of complaints or grooming rowdy infants, he's never not trapped in a state of constant motion.

It's why he doesn't ask for much back from the troop. Only that he's allowed to get whatever sleep he can at night.

It's too bad that a certain Sister's kid has different plans.

Content Warning(s): Fluff, Mentions of violence

Word Count: 1528

This is apart of a self-indulgent AU that plays into the natural hierarchy of Rhesus Macaques. It started as a joke with Blame about Macaque having a "Bitch-Squad" he gossips with and it just...this baby's now got like 8 drabbles and a whole story for MK's involvement.

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Macaque wouldn't call himself the most efficient when it comes to getting sleep.

He'll follow the rest of the troop's lead, finding a kind branch to rest on just as the sky begins to paint itself in shades of orange and pink. He'll sit, curled up against Wukong and think about how nice it would be to finally submit to the thrall of sleep.

But a twig would snap. Or Wukong would snore just a bit too loudly and his mind would wake once more.

The sound never mattered, the fear it'd elicit from Macaque was indiscriminate. Danger was noisy. And sound guaranteed trouble.

It was an old mantra- one that screamed of a past life in which Macaque was never enough and that he was not important enough to sleep in the branches of trees.

His mother had amounted to nothing; why would the troop ever think her daughter son would either?

And so, laid at the base of the troop's tree, Macaque had learned. He'd memorized every aching pattern the forest followed, desperate to understand the sound of imminent danger less he find himself in the jaws of something.

The troop would not have mourned his death. But Macaque sure of fuck would've.

His paranoia hadn't stayed with the ravaged troop he'd once called "home", following him into a new life he'd built at Wukong's side. He still doesn't find sleep to be an easy accomplishment.

But tonight is a pleasant surprise- as the forest, for once, seems to find peace with itself. Above the gentle hum of wind he can hear the gentle rustle of birds settling down, accented only by the continuous buzz of crickets.

It's chaotic in its own right. And it spoke more of peace than a quiet forest ever could.

"Psst-"

At least, it had been peaceful.

Macaque forces his head to turn toward the high-pitched voice, eyes tugging themselves open in a weak attempt to grasp at consciousness. Even he can admit he wasn't trying too hard, the lack of effort obvious in whoever had bothered him.

"Macaque!"

"I'm- I'm up," the shadow yawns, teeth slightly bared. The voice definitely hadn't been shrill enough to belong to anyone in the Sisterhood, so sue him for not being in a hurry. Despite his disgruntled mood, his arms still reach to grab whoever's infant had managed to scamper away from their mother.

Cold hands press into his fur and Macaque's lips smack to try and quell any fears that the older was truly upset.

Even in his state of borderline unconscious he knows he's not annoyed. He's more so...curious?

Macaque had always been a light sleeper, and considering how clumsy infants tended to be, it was rare to find someone able to sneak up on him.

Y'know what, maybe "curiosity" would be better described as "suspicion". Only one member of the troop tended to be that stealthy.

He dares to glance down toward the bundle of thin fur, just barely able to catch a glimpse of the infant's facial features. Even in the dim moonlight he can make out hints of scarlet across their face.

Yep. Macaque's sanity be damned, that's Martha's kid.

Fitting, he thinks dryly. Sneaky, just like your mother.

Speaking of which...

"Y'know," he murmurs, hands already beginning to groom the infant's fur. He pretends it's only because he's still exhausted. "Your mom isn't gonna be happy if she wakes up and you're missing-"

Macaque freezes as clumsy hands force his lips closed, the infant making a harsh "shh" noise that sounds a bit too much like Martha's hiss.

"I'll be gone in the mornin'," they swear, pressing themselves further into Macaque's chest. It's a movement born from desperation and he faintly wonders if it's related to how Martha usually pries unwanted infants off herself. "I couldn't sleep."

That's great, kid. But I don't want my throat torn out-

Blood pools from where Macaque's fangs sink into his tongue, thankful to still hold a filter despite the soothing sounds of the forest.

Martha would have a fit if the kid wasn't able to wake up before her. And it certainly isn't Macaque's job to take care of a Sister's kid.

Maybe in his old troop. But not in this one.

Still-

"...fine. You can stay."

Macaque gently corrals the infant closer to his chest, tucking his knees inward in preparation to fall back asleep. The sun still wouldn't be up for another few hours; he might as well try and get more rest.

"I caught a cool bug today."

Ah fuck. What was the gimmick with Martha's kid again?

Right, he thinks, pressing a hand to his eyebrows. Quiet walker, constant talker.

Macaque spares a glance toward the kid's wide, entertained eyes. There's a beat of silence and- to his own surprise -Macaque's lips tug upward into a grin.

You're the one banned from the gossip sessions, he hums triumphantly. In all honesty, it's an impressive accomplishment; infants had to be extremely rowdy to get banned from those.

There's respect in being able to annoy the Sisterhood that much.

And so, Macaque finds himself nodding, eyes already closed as he tucks the infant closer. "Oh yeah?"

If the kid's a talker, he might as well let them tire themselves out.

"Tell me more, kiddo."

"It was so cool; it was all smooth and green and had the biggest wings-!"

Slowly but surely the younger's voice begins to turn muffled, far too weak against the fog of sleep beginning to seep into Macaque's mind. It's a nice feeling; nothing beats a full night of sleep, especially with the gossip session happening tomorrow.

Jannett had mentioned something about prioritizing food for the Sisterhood, right? It was some entitled opinion like that- there seems to be a lot of those.

They wanted first claim to food, to branches...just so many claims to what the Sisterhood deserves.

Macaque quickly waves aside the thoughts, soothing the headache that'd begun to arise.

Who cares? he thinks, irritated. It's an issue for tomorrow.

For now he can rest on this nice...comfortable branch and get the best, most relaxing and much-needed bout of sleep he's ever had...

...

But what would the world be if not cruel to Macaque?

A hand smacks against his back and Macaque instinctively flinches, an excuse for holding a Sister's kid on the tip of his tongue as he whirls around.

Only, it isn't Martha's bared teeth and ugly snarl that greets him. His nose wrinkles. It's so much worse.

Macaque's lips curl as Wukong's hand sleepily taps at his fur again, the king clearly not coherent enough to handle this situation. Martha's kid had probably just spoken a little too loud and managed to rouse Wukong's terrible instincts that something was amiss.

A tiger could rip the king to shreds and he'd still ask Macaque what was going on.

"That's not ours, is it?'

Macaque can't help the way his cheeks flood with color, suddenly thankful it's far too dark for anyone to notice his embarrassment. He lunges for some form of retort, anything to recover from how flustered he is.

"No, Wukong. And he's not an it, he's Martha's son. Now go back to sleep you big lummox-"

There isn't an ounce of complaint, the other's hand going limp against Macaque's back at an instant. Macaque's eyes roll. Heavens above, why he entertains Wukong's attempts to make sense of the world around him will never have reason behind it.

The king can't even comprehend that Macaque might need a little help with getting the infant to go to sleep.

But it seems that by just lifting his hand, Wukong had done just that.

"Is that really King Wukong?"

For Martha's iconic "constant talker", Macaque nearly has to strain to hear the question that'd been whispered out. He can't possibly understand why there's so much trepidation in that small voice, the infant's limbs rigid against his chest like they were facing a snake.

Oh. Right. Because it's only time to be quiet when Wukong's involved.

Heavens forbid Macaque gets a bit of relief.

"Mhm," he whispers. As pissed as he is for Martha's hateful teachings, he could definitely use this to his advantage. "We've gotta be super quiet to make sure he doesn't wake up again, yeah?"

"I can talk quieter."

Goddamnit.

"That's cute, kid. But can you at least try to go to bed?"

"I can't!"

"Listen, Paul, I have a lot of things I need to do in the morning and if you keep talking then I swear-"

"Paul?"

Macaque’s limbs lock, frozen in place as his fur ruffles. Oh fuck, there's no way he just got this kid's name wrong.

Think, think, think, Macaque. You've got one more guess before this ticking time bomb explodes.

Okay, okay. Martha's the one that hates obscure names. She's had...fuck how many kids? Thirty? There's Paul, Jackson, Isaiah-

"...James?"

The infant blinks and Macaque can practically hear a loud buzzer declaring his doom.

"My name's Henry," Henry chirps. "Did you forget my name-? That's okay, Mama forgets my name all the time and confuses me for my brothers and sisters. Can you believe that! She's called me Jared before but-"

Ah, so much for sleeping tonight.

#lego monkie kid #lmk fic #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #fluff #macaque's not allowed to sleep #gossip & groom au

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aspoonofsugar · 1 year

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RWBY in Wonderland

So happy about the new volume starting! Here are some thoughts on the episode, the opening and some fairy tale references that are popping up everywhere. Probably what many other people are thinking already, but still...

INSIDE

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The opening lyrics confirm to me 2 things I have been thinking for a while.

Ruby's arc strongly foils Oscar's and this volume would probably tackle their similarities when it comes to struggling with growing up and finding their own identity.

Inside A new me, I'm ready But who will I find? Inside I've gotta let go but could I lose my mind?

Who will you see? There in the darkness When no one is watching Who will you be? When you're afraid And everything changes Will you see a stranger? Feel proud or betrayed?

They have an outside/inside motif, after all. Ruby starts focused on the outside and is forced now to look inside, while Oscar initially struggles with his interiority to the point he is introduced literally talking with his other self (Oz) and is slowly opening up to the outside. Oscar and Ozpin are also the ones, who bring out The Girl Who Fell Through the World's fairy tale by giving it opposite spins. So, this juxtaposition between Ruby and Oscar is not surprising. In the past volumes (vol 6 - 7 - 8) Ruby has struggled on how to be a leader and Oscar has struggled with who he is. Right now, they may start tackling the other's conflict. Curious to see how it will play out in the story as a whole.

This volume is probably going deep into the characters' interiority and I am fully expecting The Ever After to mirror this. After all, the meaning of the song is rather clear, we are diving INSIDE to discover who the characters are and who are going to become. The world, which is clearly magical and unknown, should mirror this struggle:

Inside Our worlds unwind

Now, I don't know if it is going to be because the world has some magical property to bring to life the characters' fears and dreams (which would fit with the theme of Creation) or if there is going to be some other explanation that links the Ever After to the Gods and to the hidden Lore of Remnant. In any case, I am rather open to everything, but I think looking at the wonderland characters and world through the lens of what they can tell us about RWBYJN's personality is worth doing.

This also fits the Alice's inspiration for this volume because both Alice's books end with the protagonist waking up and "decoding" a dream:

Now, Kitty, let’s consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a serious question, my dear, and you should not go on licking your paw like that—as if Dinah hadn’t washed you this morning! You see, Kitty, it must have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course—but then I was part of his dream, too! Was it the Red King, Kitty? You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know—Oh, Kitty, do help to settle it! I’m sure your paw can wait!’ But the provoking kitten only began on the other paw, and pretended it hadn’t heard the question. Which do you think it was? Alice Through the Looking Glass

The long grass rustled at Alice's sister feet as the White Rabbit hurried by--the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool--she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution--once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it--once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality--the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds--the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy--and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all thy other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard--while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

As you can see, wonderland and the glass world are dreams, even if it is really unclear who the dreamer really is :P. Speaking of grass rustling, this line kind of reminds me of:

The leaves of the tree rustled and on the wind she heard one more question...

The grass rustling helps her sister to enter Alices's dream and to understand it, while the tree might help the characters to better decompress everything that has been going on. So that they can grow and heal.

Speaking of the tree, there is an interesting tidbit in Alice in Wonderland:

She noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. “That’s very curious!” she thought. “But everything’s curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.” And in she went.

Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little glass table. “Now, I’ll manage better this time,” she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and then—she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.

Alice's main objective in the book is to enter a beautiful garden full of red roses and eventually she manages through a door found in a tree. I think the metaphor is clear, the Tree will lead Ruby and the others home both physically and psychologically since it will help them discover who they are.

OTHER REFERENCES

There are many and everyone is being catching up to them quicker than me. Here are some I found:

The Girl Who Fell Through the World is a line from the novel Alice's Adventures in Wonderland itself

The Dodo is a reference to Carroll himself, since Alice meets a Dodo, who alludes to him

At the beginning of the story Alice almost drowns in the pool of tears and then meets a mouse, but offends him by mentioning her cat. Here Ruby starts crying, which leads to rain, but then she befriends Little and scares them off by talking about Blake (a cat).

The Jabber Walker alludes to the Jabberwocky, which I love so far because it is not a character in the story of Alice, but rather a poem, with no clear meaning. So, it is beautiful they rendered them as a mysterious creature, who is difficult to understand when they speak. I also wonder if they have something to do with Yang since she is introduced fighting them and she even fights them in the trailer, as well. Moreover, the Jabberwocky's poem mentions the monster having eyes of flame, so...

The world being organized in neat sections reminds me of Through the Looking Glass, where Alice finds herself on a giant chessboard, playing a game to become Queen.

Speaking of Queens and Kings, it seems we are gonna have a red King, who plays chess, which kinds of combines the Queen of Hearts and the Red Queen. Moreover, he cracks in the trailer, so I wonder if he may reference Humpty Dumpty, as well:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall all the king's horses and all the king's men Couldn't put Humpty together again.

You're heading for a fall And you're nearing the end Like a house made of straw No one's putting you together again

This would be interesting because chess + theme of falling = the Atlas Arc and Ironwood. I wonder if the play of chess would be a chance for Ruby to metaphorically face what went down in Atlas.

Then we have some obvious ones, like the caterpillar, the cat, the mushrooms (which in Alice can make you become big or small), Neo as the Mad Hatter and Jaune as a combination of the Hare from Wonderland and the White Knight from Through the Looking Glass.

SPEAKING OF ALYX HERSELF

I adore her design! It has immediately become one of my favourites in the whole series!

Secondly, I really like @greenteaandtattoos idea she might allude both to Alice herself and to the White Rabbit, since she has a rabbit motif and the characters are shown running after her shadow and looking for her:

In general, the opening seems to be setting Ruby, Neo and Jaune as foils to Alyx.

Alyx's silouette overlaps with Ruby's and especially Neo's (after all, grinning Ruby may also be Neo tbh) several times and she has a golden rabbit patch, which resembles Jaune's new Hare friend:

Jaune seems to combine the Knight Imagery (the White Knight from Alice Through the Looking Glass) with the March Hare (a mad hare from Alice in Wonderland). This is interesting because it is as if the story is asking Jaune to reconcile his different parts. His persona (the Knight) with his shadow (the Hare).

I know I failed so many times Drown my troubles hid my mind Buried everything in hundred proof A skillful coward hides the truth so well

Ren: Him (Jaune) on the other hand… There's no fear at all. I can see it, he believes we're going to get this done.

Is he brave or is he a coward? And can he be both?

The Mad Hatter (Neo) and the March Hare (Jaune) are also linked symbolically, as in Alice in Wonderland they are 2 jokes on the idea of madness. Hatters used to lose their mind because they used mercury in their job, while hares go crazy in the month of March because of hormones. Here, I think it might enforce Neo and Jaune's foiling:

They are both going mad out of grief, but they go at it in opposite ways. Jaune is probably interiorizing and blaming himself, while Neo is externalizing and blaming Ruby. I am interested to see how they will influence the story, especially since they might move independently from the group, at least for a little while. Neo is RWBY's enemy, while RWBY have no idea Jaune has fallen too.

RWBY'S JOURNEY

This might be a giant red herring, but the opening might give us some hints on the order the characters are gonna explore the different settings.

They started from the beach and are probably gonna move to this market while proceding to the Red King's area:

This market is probably where they are gonna meet the Knight, since the trailer shows there Jaune's feet while riding a Hare (obvs I am considering Jaune=Knight, but I might be wrong). It seems to be also where the Racoon and the Blacksmith woman are.

Here is where they are gonna meet the King and play chess with him. WBY are gonna be small for the chess game. Also the market town and the Red King's Kingdom seems to be in the same place:

The red buildings are the same of the market town, after all. This place also reminds me of the Forever Fall forest, which is interesting. In general, the characters moving from yellow to red makes sense considering alchemy. They are currently in the yellow phase, but are approaching the red phase, which I think will be Vacuo.

The mushroom forest is where the caterpillar is. Also, in Alice in Wonderland the mushrooms are able to help Alice control her size, so I wonder if WBY are gonna go back to normal here... or if they are gonna be miniaturized again... This area is also where this lake with the lotus building seems to be:

Finally, there is this place in the clouds, which resembles the Central Meeting Point of volume 8, in concept:

Here is where the bridge scene is probably gonna play out. Again, them being in the sky makes sense given they need to reach air through fire in alchemy.

Obviously, there might still be more locations and we don't know where Ruby is gonna find Penny's sword or where the shining globe is (maybe the Blacksmith's woman's house? No idea). In general, it is also possible they might find themselves stuck in circles at one point... After all, the opening ends back on the beach, where Alyx wakes up to start her journey once again... and where Crescent Rose is found:

OTHER THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE

We had already seen the majority of it thanks to clips, but there are still many interesting moments!

Little is clearly meant to be Ruby's mirror and it is interesting so much focus is put on them being innocent and young. They still don't know who they are, but this means they can take their time to discover it. This is something Ruby seems to have forgotten. In general, Little is very similar to volume 1 Ruby. They see a person in pain and want to help, after all. It is also interesting, they are already considering Ruby their personal hero, since she takes out the cheese for them. The relationship between Little and the Cat is also going to be interesting.

Yang and Ruby's interaction is great. I think their relationship should be in focus. Yang should move from Ruby to Blake symbolically, which would be better also for her and Ruby, since the balance in their sisters' relationship is changing.

I am curious if Blake and Weiss are gonna be foiled this volume, since they are introduced together. I don't have many thoughts on this, though, so far.

It is interesting Blake is the one, who points out they may be in a fairy tale. As someone already noticed, it is an inversion from volume 1. There Ruby was the idealistic one, while Blake was a prisoner of her own cynism. It seems their journey has led them in opposite positions now. It would be interesting to reread their stories through this foiling.

The mysterious woman opens the volume and I wonder if we will discover who she is at the end. Just like Salem starts the series and she is revealed to be a character in volume 3. Wouldn't it be interesting if the woman is indeed Summer and she is revealed alive at the end of this volume? As a way to introduce us to the Vacuo story arc?

Finally, this is not an episode thought, but the opening also seems to set the Jabber Walker and the Knight as foils somehow... I wonder what this means for Jaune and the other characters...

This is it, for now. I have other thoughts on Neo's allusion to Trivia/Hecate, but they are pure speculation, as for now, so they will have to wait!

#rwby #rwby theory #rwby meta #rwby volume 9 #rwby spoilers #team rwby #neopolitan #jaune arc #ruby rose #my meta #my thoughts

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