#maybe this has already been talked about or maybe no one cares
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guilty as sin? | abby anderson
“these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head”
warnings: masturbation, slight masochism, ruined orgasm, angst, perv!abby (a little), internalized homophobia (discussed in more detail below)
notes: no surprise my favourite ttpd song is the gayest one on the album, but guilty as sin? screams lesbian guilt i fear!!!! i’ve been writing this for over a month so i hope u guys like it 😭
cw: discussion of lesbian guilt & comphet - these are somewhat based on my own experiences with my sexuality and i absolutely!!! do not think a man can ‘cure’ a lesbian or anything similar to that. nor do i believe anyone should ever feel guilty for being gay. realising i’m a lesbian has been extremely freeing & dykes r the best x
wc: 1.8k
likes, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated :)
the door slammed harshly behind abby as she stormed into her room. she pulled her jacket off desperately; her skin hot under its tight vice. she’d been in the gym, trying to work out her endless frustration of late, when you’d walked in.
you’d only said “hi" and smiled politely at her before setting your things down. but she felt her stomach churn, a black hole opening inside her. abby stood up, pulling the weights off the barbell and onto their rack. she grunted softly, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.
you’d started stretching, currently bent over as you touched your toes. her eyes drifted for an infinitesimal moment, locking onto the swell of your-. she looked away - wrongwrongwrong.
but then she looked back, her stare feasting on your body. she wondered whether you were doing this on purpose, trying to tempt her from across the room. she wondered if you knew her dirty little secret, abby picturing a smirk on your face as you mocked her for such indecent thoughts.
she didn’t want to feel this way. she didn’t want to feel the poison ivy swarming around her chest, getting tighter, tighter. the rash spread inside her; this invisible whip of lust lashing against her skin whenever your face appeared in her mind. well, had it been just your face maybe she wouldn’t feel like some depraved sinner.
now it wasn’t like abby believed in god, in a world where death and destruction infect every crevice you’d have to be mad to believe that any ‘god’ wanted its followers to suffer so greatly. but something inside her screamed every time she had these thoughts. these impure, twisted thoughts about you.
she didn’t know what made her feel like this. what made her resent you for simply existing; and what made her resent herself.
she recalled her teenage years, when manny had subtly suggested that owen liked her - so she was supposed to like him back, right? and she tried! she loved him even - but there was always that something, that feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong, something about him that just would never sit right with her.
but all the other girls wanted a boyfriend too, and the jealousy was nice at first - she’d thought. after all, mel was the star student, a doctor in the making, her dad’s favourite; and nora was this freshly trained medical officer, and abby was- abby was just abby.
her dad began noticing her more too - previously too preoccupied with his firefly duties and his favourite student. now his little girl was slipping away from him, he finally began paying her the amount of attention she’d craved for so long.
before, their conversations had often drifted into talk of mel and her new achievements, or his hopes of a vaccine, or some animal he was tracking. never anything about his daughter’s life.
having a boyfriend made her interesting, it gave the other girls something to envy. which was a nice reversal, for a while. then her dad died, and she had become this object of pity. owen helped a bit, she supposed. he tried to distract her and keep her focused on their new role as soldiers, but she barely cared about him anymore. all she wanted was revenge, and with revenge, came you.
you were one of the gyms trainers, passionate about helping the members of the wlf stay fit and healthy! you’d helped her start lifting weights, squealed as she reached every milestone, and had remarked jokingly about just how much you loved her new physique.
it was innocent at first, the most being her brain going a little fuzzy when you’d bit your lip while spotting her; a slight blush when you’d hugged her a little too tight. then, once she and owen were finally broken up, these new pictures began hanging themselves on the walls of her mind. still, innocent, just slightly tainted with desire - the true nature of them still an avoidable matter for her back then.
when she could ignore the truth in her recent behaviour, abby loved spending time with you. after all, you were just really good friends! anyway, she’d had a boyfriend before so everyone knew she was normal, and absolutely not different, and she would never ever have to feel like an outsider.
yet it took a mere three months before she gave up on this foolish lie. she liked you, and as long as nobody ever found out, it wouldn’t matter.
but as her mind grew dark and twisted - joel a constant topic in her head as she obsessed over finally getting to enact revenge - her thoughts got worse in turn. she wanted you - filthily and desperately.
every gym session ended with another cold shower, a desperate plea for her body to stop and let her focus on the task at hand; a hopeless attempt to bury this ache into the ground; an endless endeavour to escape these urges for just one second.
but then she came back changed, every hair on her body endlessly erected with guilt. the way she’d killed him so mercilessly, the way it had done nothing to ease the pain, and the way you had tormented her mind ceaselessly throughout the entire trip.
maybe, had she never met you, she could’ve just killed him and been satisfied. maybe had you never offered to train her personally, she could’ve just stayed comfortable in that stuffy closet. maybe if she found the right man she’d stop feeling this way.
abby deemed such ideas unfathomable now.
owen made her feel nothing. being with him was like an eternal thursday, an endless wait for the week’s end and its pleasure to turn up at her door. every day she’d wait for some spark to arrive, the routine only becoming more and more tedious by the minute. but he helped her get people’s attention, which was enough when she was just abby.
but then she was abby anderson, top scar killer and isaac’s favourite. she got attention on her own, she was praised for her own accomplishments: people worshipped the fucking ground she walked on. but they didn’t know who she really was.
they didn’t know she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys. she’d seen it in enough of those wlf movie nights - cruel jokes about anyone who even thought about being different. she’d heard the way people gossiped, “did you hear that they’re moving lesbians into the family unit? what a joke.”
they said it like it was something dirty, something egregious, something that she had to hate about herself. so she did.
but as long as she kept it secret, kept it locked away in her mind, maybe she’d be okay. after all, only your actions talk: it was the age old question really, if a tree falls in a forest and no one else hears it, does it make a sound?
abby fell back against her bed sheets, calloused hands pushing her cargos down to her ankles as she replayed the sight of you in her mind. bent over - she felt like you were trying to tempt her on purpose.
she felt like a heathen; staring, fantasizing, worshipping. her mind was bursting with the idea of every possible position she could put you in; head a chorus of every little noise she wanted to hear you make; eyes screwed shut as depravity filled her every sense.
she shoved her bralette up her chest roughly, fingertips dragging over her nipples with little mercy. she pinched them, the peach skin stinging underneath her touch.
she wanted it to hurt; wanted it to feel like some sort of punishment for her thoughts. but as her hips bucked into the air, a long whine dragging from her clenched jaw, she realised it needed to hurt more.
she imagined you, finding her like this. disgust burnt into your features - what the fuck was she doing? repeating your name like some subverted prayer, fingers harshly scratching along her stomach as she tried to make the pleasure feel more like pain, trying to induce some connection between the two.
if it hurt enough, would she stop? force herself to forget? could she torture this part of herself until it surrendered?
her hand slipped over the top of her boxers, a finger running tentatively over her clit through the now darkened fabric. she bit down on her lip, groaning against it as she pushed down harder and harder, attempting to break through the skin.
another finger pressed down, beginning to draw circles down on the throbbing bud. she jolted against her own touch, your head between her legs burning into her mind. your hands, trailing along her flesh - groping at her with little tenderness; tongue, swiping at her pussy with no intent of fulfillment: she wanted you to make her weep, smoke out her lungs with shame, deny her from gratification until all she could feel was regret.
she pulled away, only to cover her fingertips with her spit - diving under her boxers to continue with her corruption. abby let out a strangled sigh, hips grinding against her fingers as they toyed with her clit.
she moved a hand to her hair, knuckles stretching against her scalp as she began to pull her braid. she grunted, yanking even harder. she whispered your name: pained, hopeless.
she sped up her assault against her pussy, feeling that pit in the bottom of her stomach begin to grow. “pleasepleaseplease” her voice cracked as she begged, unsure what she was pleading for.
she wanted to stop, but she needed to try and make this feeling go away. she knew it would come back, it always did - but even five minutes free from your torment on her mind might save her.
her fingers kept going, drawing desperate circles against her weeping pussy relentlessly. the void was growing, almost consuming her entirely at this point. she thought of you laughing at her current state: a crying mess, pussy wet with perversion.
it was sick, really - how the idea of you hating her for this made her need even worse. you’d probably think it appalling: someone who was supposed to be your friend, now sat here burning at the thought of you.
a part of her wished that you shared this sickness. that you too let yourself be overwhelmed by the thought of sin. maybe you didn’t let the guilt swallow you whole - she hoped so.
but there was no point lingering in the what-ifs, they were far too fleeting.
her deft fingers quickened their pace, the ache all consuming. the climb began - a desperate jump towards oblivion. closer, closer. the flames scorched her bedsheets as her breathing hastened.
fuck, she hissed before reaching the apex with a scream of your name. a scream? a whisper? a thought? it didn’t make her actions any less deplorable.
her conscience grabbed pleasure by the throat as she ripped her fingers away, putting out the blaze on her hips like a cigarette crushed on the ground.
the desire imploded within the walls of her torso; scratching against her insides in the vengeance of her denial.
it was wrong; she had to stop it. yet still, the guilt poured into her lungs with no chance of resolve. she was a fool for thinking it would fix her. maybe next time it would work. maybe next time the exorcism would finally purify her.
until next time.
#abby anderson#tlou#the last of us#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#the last of us 2#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#abby anderson angst#abby anderson is a lesbian#abby anderson x fem reader#abby anderson fics#abby anderson fic
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100 followers event + collab with @transmascaraa
(cuddling headcanons-PM+Hunting Dogs)
A/n:sooo hello guys I've reached 100 followersss and my bf had reached 400, so we decided to make this collab as an event for them💜 Those are basically some cuddling headcanons. I am writing for the port mafia and the hunting dogs. Nyx is writing for ADA and DoA. You can find his work right here.
P.S. I am so thankful to all of you for 100 followers it really means a lot to me<33
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Port Mafia
Chuuya
Cuddles with this man are rather rare ngl. He's busy with his job and everything, buuuut he always makes up for it
He is so gentle with you and careful with how he touches you. This man is a gentleman, you can't expect anything else
He refuses to be the little spoon. Like no chance. He feels like he can protect you more that way even if it's just cuddles.
Most of time, when his head is in your lap, he would expect you to play with his hair. (Maybe would get offended when you don't 😅)
Hug his waist pleasee!! You can't cuddle with that man and don't wrap your hands around that waist. He will also love it<3
Akutagawa
Now with this you've really gotta work to get to cuddling lmao. This is the most unaffectionate person from bsd maybe.
Bue still when you do get to it he would be sooo akward for him at first, but he will get used to it..maybe...after a lot of time...
Still cuddles would be like, with him literally crushing you while just laying on top of you, but still he is underweight so you won't feel it a lot
Probably would feel asleep, but would not admit it after that
He always acts like he hates when you ask him for cuddles, but (very) deep down he actually loves it, because it calms him down and his thoughts.
Tachihara
This boy is soo underrated please
Anyways that wasn't the theme. Cuddling with Tachihara is an often thing
He loves to cuddle and be touchy with you. So almost every day after work, he'll just drop his body weight on top of you lmao
In this case tho, he would want to play with your hair. "It calms me down!!" He always says- and maybe it does, after a long day at work
Hand holding while cuddling is something soo important for him. Like he loves holding your hand and because he can't do it more often he insists on doing it while cuddling
Gin
Ohhhhh now this sweet.. powerful... gorgeous woman. I need a Gin in my life
Anyways cuddling with her would be you two facing eachother, laying in the bed, with your legs interlocked and her arm around you
She would like for you to tell her how your day has been while you play with her hair. She might fall asleep tho
After that she will tel you about her day and would be like turning around and gesturing with her hands while talking, so you get to pull her back to cuddling
Cuddles before going to bed are her favourite, because then you both fall asleep in each other's arms
The Hunting Dogs
Tecchou
Ehh >< sweet guy i i love him so much.
He is the big spoon. Always. Like most of them, he needs to have the assurance that he can protect you immediately if something happens.
Doesn't talk much while you cuddle. He would just close his eyes and burry his face in the crook of your neck
Would most likely to ask you to talk though, because he loves listening to your voice, so don't blame him if he falls asleep, but this doesn't happen very often
Also he doesn't move around when you two are laying down. Like he'll get in one position and not move until he actually has to get up to go to work
Jouno
Omg i have already talk about that before but anyway
So like I've said in my Jouno headcanons, i think he has sensory issues, because of the fact that he is blind and is very sensitive towards any kind of physical affection
So in that case cuddles wouldn't happen often, because he gets easily overwhelmed by them
However on days he is very tired or you had a bad day/are also tired, he would. You have to be careful with him though
He likes cuddling with you in general, just pls be careful with him
Teruko
She would pop onto you like a starfish
Would start ramble, ramble, ramble..until zhe actually falls asleep in your arms
Honestly in order for you to cuddle either one you is veeery tired or you were playfully fighting or tickling eachother, then it turned into cuddles
Her rambles are soo cute. Like she would tell you every single thing about her day, to the smallest detail
Like i said, she would probably fall asleep after that AND would expect you to hug her tight while she is sleeping
© mariaace 2024 please do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!
Reblogs are highly appreciated!
@dazailoveschuuya @transmascaraa
#mariaace 🪼#x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#chuuya x reader#akutagawa x reader#gin x reader#jouno x reader#tecchou x reader#teruko x reader#tachihara x reader
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Bottles
Note: I have two stories today because I couldn't make up my mind.
This one is sad (alcoholism, Sad John, Not Dead Sherlock, reunion, reconciliation, rehab. No MCD). The next one (Imagine) is much happier.
887 words / Prompt: Empty
He’s forgotten where he lives.
He hasn’t forgotten the little house in Clapham where his bed is, but as usual, his feet have taken him to Baker Street. That only happens when he’s been drinking. Well, it happens all the time these days.
Pockets, pockets. He still has a key, but he can’t find it.
“Lost it,” he says to himself. This seems true, and certainly describes his entire life these days. Since. After.
Lost it. He’s lost it.
It’s cold, almost November. Maybe it is November. If he closes his eyes— he does— he remembers another November. Back. Before.
Maybe he doesn’t have a bed now. He doesn’t have a job, so it’s quite possible that the house he remembers, the one with the bed and his clothes and a telly that doesn’t work, maybe that’s gone too. All his stuff, gone.
Sherlock gone.
He’ll cry if he thinks about that.
He’s already is crying.
The ground is suddenly closer than he thought. That’s because he’s sitting on the kerb outside 221B Baker Street. His face is wet and the ground is cold and he doesn’t have a place to sleep and all his stuff is gone.
“Why did you die?” If he were sober, he’d just ask inside of his head, and the Sherlock that lives there would say something cryptic.
You’re worried they’re right.
Heroes don’t exist.
Alone protects me.
It’s my note.
Mind Palace Sherlock. No, John has never had a Mind Palace. Nothing so grand. He doesn’t have a palace, not even one tiny bedsit now.
If he went home, if he had a home, he could sit in his chair and close his eyes and pretend Sherlock didn’t die.
He pulls the bottle out of his pocket. Nearly empty. He could drink it all in one swallow.
No, he already has.
The bottle clinks on the pavement. He tries to be careful when he puts them in the recycling bin, not let them clink against one another. That sound bothers him, shames him that there are so many.
Ashamed, he sits on the kerb, his feet in the road. Maybe he should just lie down in the road. Nobody would be surprised if he died that way. Better than a bullet. Better than drinking himself to death.
Rising to his feet, he sways. It’s a bad idea, standing up, but he wants to lie in the middle of the road and go to sleep. And never wake up.
He grasps at the air, trying to regain his balance, and finds he’s leaning against a car. A black car. The door opens and someone gets out.
Well, this will be embarrassing. For both of us.
Mycroft doesn’t pick up drunks. When necessary, he has people who do that for him. People who do his dirty work, clean up the vomit and wipe the blood off the upholstery.
No, they’re not getting into the car. The dirty work bloke is carrying him towards the door. And there’s Mycroft with the key, opening it.
“I’ve got you, John,” the dirty work bloke says. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”
He smells so familiar. That coat. “Sherlock,” he whispers. “Don’t be dead.”
He’s floating up. Up, up. It feels nice. The way home used to feel.
So gently, he’s laid down in a bed. A hand strokes his hair. “John.”
He’s crying. “Stop being dead.”
“Hush, John. I’m not dead. Remember? I came back.”
“But… but.” He’s not in the street. Clue: no cars. Soft. Warm. Ah, bed.
Someone is putting a pillow behind his head. It’s nice.
“John, sit up and have some water.”
“I got married,” he announces. “Did I get married?”
“You did.”
It’s the voice he remembers, the one that gives him shivers. “Am I dead?”
“No, you’re not.” A hand on his hair. “Hush, you’re safe. Rest now.”
In the other room, they’re talking softly to one another.
“How many times, Sherlock? He needs medical care. Rehab.”
“No, Mycroft. No hospitals. I’ll take care of him. Molly’s got Rosie for now, and Harry’s coming tomorrow.”
“Don’t be selfish, Sherlock. Are you sure this is what he’d want?”
Their voices are quieter now, further away.
“I have to fix this. I want to.”
“Well, then. I’ll leave you to it. Call me.”
In the silence, he drifts. He and Sherlock were in a pub, he thinks.
No, they were playing a game. I’m you, aren’t I?
He’s chasing a hound through the mist…
Sherlock is standing on the roof...
A gunshot, and he runs… don’t be dead…
Stay with me…
Goodbye, John…
He sobs. “Why are you still dead? I asked you to come back.”
He feels himself gathered into strong arms. “I heard you. I’m here.”
“Every time you say that, you leave me. Every time, you’re dead.”
He touches the face he loves. His fingers come away wet. Sherlock is crying.
“Please, John. You have to stop this. Stay with me, please.”
I’m not the one who leaves, he thinks. I’m the one who’s alone.
“All right.” Sighing, he leans into the vision. They’re standing under a starry sky, and it’s beautiful. Sherlock is beautiful.
“I love you,” he says, smiling up at him. “Always meant to say. I love you.”
Sherlock kisses him “I love you too. Stay with me.”
--
Please read the next one too! Imagine. A 1024-word fixit for Series 3-4.
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Will Zelda abolish the monarchy in your TotK rewrite?
HM
she will not turn to the camera and say "i am abolishing monarchy" (since that needs to be said these days ..) but in a way its kinda meant to be like .. the opposite of the canon totk messaging?
like, fictional monarchy in itself isnt like the root of all evil, its the ideology that goes with it? i like fictional monarchy stuff and other races got them too so i wouldnt say its a clear -this is bad- thing
i do want to turn the whole idea of "hyrules royalty and its ruling is always good and just and anyone against it is automatically labeled as evil" upside down .. or more like, let it go further, rauru in the rewrite is .. similar to the canon one, thats kinda the point, hes the good and just king that wants to unite all nations in peace and wants to get rid of any "evil" be it monsters or someone threatening his 'peace'
but then you think about it, his idea of 'peace' is very specific, not everyone might want to be under his control, not everyone might have joined willingly and just bc theres someone opposing him does not have to mean they are some evil demon, all this talk might have been deliberate manipulation of history, he says hes invited a nation to join under his rule? he makes it sound like it was a nice offering like bringing a piece of cake to a neighbour, but it could be anything, he has those magical nuclear power pebbles, multiple, even just having them has an effect on others, he can say he would only use them for good, but that can be a lie, and more importantly, you dont know what his idea of 'good' is
he can say he would never use it to hurt people, but what if he declares others to not BE people in his eyes
he wants to bring about a world of light with no shadow to be found, rebuild a glorious kingdom of the past, there will be no shadow to hide in, there will be no place he is not, as he is the light, the king of light, and he knows whats best for all in his eternal, holy kingdom of light
.. most of this isnt even non-canon, it just gets presented as he says it, a one note fact, and you are supposed to agree-
so really im just rewriting that part to be more overtly how it felt like to ME, and turnign the second half into opposing that bc hey, this might not be cool actually
im really jsut cranking raurus actions and ideals up just a tiny bit, and show more directly that its the behavoir of an imperialist king of all
so really its more like .. teaching her the lesson of how easy it is to fall into that line of thinking, how you need to consider .. maybe blindly following old traditions isnt always good, consider other perspectives, be careful bc she could have gone into that direction too (like she literally does in the canon totk end ..) and in a way she already has, but afterwards (in the rewrite) she can work against that, she could be rauru and has to decide and work against it
i know that isnt a clear answer, this whole idea is a little hmm to me bc TO ME canon totk already reads like that, and i want to work against it, bc in canon it goes unchallenged, and alot of people ... alot of people..., just go along with it seemingly not even beign able to see how its all suspicious-
in the end, i want it to be a careful but hopeful vibe of, zelda as a scientist, a historian, interested in alot of fields, being able to change something, a shift in perspective, like lady eboshi in princess monokoe saying at the end that they will start anew, now building good town- its not garanteed, zelda is still in a position of power, but she doesnt have to rebuild it like it was, people might still refer to her as princess and have high respect for her, but after being so deceived by rauru, being on the opposing side to almost the exact idea they once had, it has humbled them and can pave the way for a better future
ganondorfs spirit at the end moving on after finally being able to take out rauru, even if it meant to help out those hed see as being in the prime spot to become jsut like rauru, over the course of the second half all of them learning of each other, now more confident these younglings of a world thats long changed and not his anymore being able to build something better, and years after the ordeal theres news of a male gerudo having been born
(i know that idea goes agaisnt what made up his character for alot of the other games (though rewrite totk gan is still a different one from the old games), like his eternal problem of not being able to move on and refusing to die, and im sure theres lots of not the bestest thigns in my writing of it all too, but so far, its what i have been imagining, and unfortnately i am a sucker for those types of cliché endings-
it doesnt have to mean the next games would be going up against the gods or soemthing, though i do like that, but i felt like its a nice end for botws world, and much less uncomfortable than the canon totk end, theres no refounding of the kingdom, no swears of fealty, just young people working to rebuild the world into something better after it was almost wiped out, the kingdom already fell in botw, and the world kept on turning, i see no reason why it shouldnt be able to keep doing it)
#ganondoodles answers#zelda#ganondoodles rewrites totk#i am so good at giving clear answers to simple questions you guys
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sweet talking john price
minors - do not interact.
part 3 of the poly 141 x librarian!reader idea
please tell me how i have been hyperfixated on SO MANY video games i've actually played over the past couple of years, but only have the inspo to write for the MILITARY PROPAGANDA GAME i have never, ever played.
anyway, this goes out to the price fans. i fully intended to post my ghost stuff next but my girlfriend is a price girlie so! ghost up next!
pairings: john price x reader, poly 141 x reader
warnings: geez um lots of sweet talk and praise, john price is a lil treat boyf and no one can change my mind, reader probably maybe definitely beginning to fall in love, surely some COD canon/lore inaccuracies, reader is FAT and gender neutral, spanking, sex in front of a mirror, big boys smooching
"there's my favorite librarian."
you could recognize john price's voice anywhere. you'd only met him a few months ago, known him even less, and still you can recognize the familiar timber and tones of his deep, rumbling accent. it's comforting. it drives you mad. you blush slightly as you turn around to face him and he's quick to cover your rosy cheeks with his lips in a chaste kiss.
"how's your day going, lovely?"
you try to say good and shrug it off, but john stares at you wordlessly before you continue, going into detail about your mundane workday. your activities were never exciting or noteworthy, but john always listened earnestly. he made a point to visit you during your shifts, bringing your favorite treats and occupying the time between patrons. though he never claimed to be volunteering like gaz, john would follow you around the library for hours, helping you with tasks and listening to you ramble about call numbers and bestsellers. he didn't speak about himself too often, especially not his military experience, but when the library was especially slow he would indulge you in a few vague peeks behind the curtain.
his middle name is michael. he grew up in england in the 70s and doesn't care too much for football. he likes his steak medium and his coffee with just one sugar. he has trouble hearing out of his right ear, but won't tell you about the mission that caused it. he's reluctant to get another dog, despite soap's pleading. his boyfriends are his world and it shows in not just his words, but his actions. most evenings, he enjoys a cigar and glass of scotch on the porch of their house out in the country. the past few weeks, that ritual has included you, sandwiched in between the four of them on the porch swing.
it's comforting. it drives you mad.
they're beautiful together. a complete unit. and they've worked so hard to integrate you into their family that you don't even have to wonder where you fit in. your place is right there, with them, because they make the space for you.
"pretty as a picture," price says one evening, the last to join the group on the porch swing. he even takes a moment to pull out his weathered and ancient cell phone to snap a photo of all of you. when he turns it around to show you, you blush at how happy you look. your smile is wide and unafraid, like you've never been hurt in your life. ghost's large arm wraps around soap, his palm settling on your shoulder. gaz turned just in time to press his lips to your temple, his hand already exploring the expanse of your bare thigh.
they like you in as little as possible and got lucky that your summer wardrobe mostly consisted of short shorts and barely there crop tops. you would catch them staring from across a room or field, eyeing the way your dimpled thighs jiggle with each step.
sometimes they can't just watch. and when john price gets the urge to fuck you, he fucks you. he could be elbow deep in fertilizer and compost, setting up the garden you offhandedly mentioned desiring, and he would drop everything to slide between your thighs. he gives just as good as he takes and more often than not you find yourself wearing your skimpiest clothes out to the 141 haven to trigger a reaction. the more john is exposed to your naked form, the more feral he goes for you.
"you were made for me, so soft," john growls against your ear before he's pushing at your shoulders, bending you forward and presenting your ass to him. "been thinking about you all day, love. take those shorts off for me, why don't you?"
no matter how fast you can wiggle and squirm, it isn't quick enough for price. you know he's going to spank you before it even happens.
"love the way your fat arse moves." he grabs next, his entire palm claiming an ass cheek, fingertips digging into the flesh. you hope they bruise.
"john, please--"
"please what, love?" you don't need to see him to hear the grin in his gravelly tone. he spanks you again before you can answer, quick to massage the skin and dissipate the sting -- or prolong it, you're never sure. "if you want my cock you'll have to ask nicer than that."
you push out a half-hearted, whining, "please." you like to test him every now and again.
he laughs, slapping your ass so hard it pushes a moan from your lips. his free hand finds the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging back harshly until you can almost make out his face in your periphery. "mind your manners this time, pretty."
"please fuck me john. i need your cock." the words come out in a jumble, hardly passing for separate syllables. you come twice before he finally complies -- and then you're well and truly fucked.
later, when you're assessing the damage in the full length mirror nestled between the door of john's room and his closet, you count at least five fresh bruises on your ass cheeks. when john enters the room and sees you counting, pressing your smaller fingertips into each mark, he takes you again right in front of the mirror. he gropes your curves, worships your body through gritted teeth. your legs spread the entire time, exposing where he enters you. the others watch, enraptured, and you're able to see them kissing and pawing at each other in the reflection.
it's comforting. it drives you mad.
#poly 141 x reader#taskforce 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#john price x reader#plus size reader#fat reader#poly 141 au#141 x reader#literally do not look at me
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Guys, I think Grizzly hid lore in Dark Puckered Hole.
NOW JUST- JUST HEAR ME OUT. (Mieru, look away).
I’m not just talking about the potential purity culture of the Undersea being exposed through Finn’s self exploration… I’m talking RAFT lore.
In Chapter 69, “Behind Bars,” of Dark Puckered Hole, Finn Tidestrider is imprisoned “somewhere in the eastern sea” with another triton, who is on the brink of death. They fall in love and bang before the anonymous convict passes in Finn’s arms, but that’s not what I’m focusing on. Im focusing on the presence of another triton, an injured one, in the Oversea, especially the Sakura Ocean.
Historically in Mana, Finn Tidestrider was one of, if not, THE FIRST to leave the Undersea behind. A decade or so-so later, in modern day Riptide, there have been practically no other triton. Gillion, who was banished, and Edyn, who left to find and avenge him, are the only ones. Even more so, the only other Undersea characters are found in the Undersea (Unnamed NPCs in The Tank OR Felipe, a grung, being from Liquidus) or having left it behind for personal reasons a la Edyn (Caspian, a water genasi). When the Tidestrider siblings go around Allport, they have to wear cloaks to avoid standing out. There aren’t even other triton in Liquidus!
So how, why, is there another triton in the oversea? Finn himself is shocked by his presence. “In this prison, to find another man from the Undersea… my mind raced with questions.” He doesn’t dwell on this weirdness because his questions are drowned out by the sound of his blood beneath his skin, rushing downward, BUT it’s very bizarre, no?
Another detail: Why was the other triton on the verge of death? Of course, inadequate care, but could he have been thrown back into the cell like that? Whoever imprisoned them did not care about their lives. They could live, or they could die.
To go further, isn’t it kind of weird how Finn Tidestrider doesn’t specify where his imprisonment is? He is a very detailed author. He could have said one of the villages in Onawa Country or anything else to feed more detail into his writing, but he didn’t. I feel like the reason he wouldn’t be specific is because he himself was unsure exactly of where he was. He was taken in secret, likely kept out of sight while being arrested and transported to his cell.
I also have to wonder… who imprisoned them? I think you know what I’m getting at. I think RAFT did. RAFT has the resources. RAFT has the political sway. RAFT has governmental power. And it’s worsened by the fact that this imprisonment occurred in the Eastern Sea, the site of the Promised Bastion, where triton are imprisoned, tortured, skinned, and experimented on…
Judging by the fact that Finn refers to the other triton’s you-know-what as “a lighthouse to guide this lost sailor home,” Finn was likely a part of the Black Rose Pirates at the time. He couldn’t hide his presence in the Oversea as a crewmate for a pirate lord, let alone Captain Rose. Finn was on wanted posters, Finn was in newspaper headlines, Finn was a published author. I think RAFT had its eyes on him, but when they arrested or kidnapped him, it wasn’t for crimes of piracy… at least not on the surface.
I think this experimentation on Undersea people and gods has been going on for a long time, and Dark Puckered Hole could be evidence of this fact. Finn was intended to be a source of skin, of blood, and of magic for RAFT’s experimentation in the artificial leviathan and black ops projects. His lover was too, maybe already was (I say maybe because Finn doesn’t allude to the idea that he was physically ripped apart… that would have been unignorable). Finn probably only made it out because he’s that strong (in episode 82, when Drey is talking to and comforting Jay, he said Finn was terrifying when angry or passionate) or his crew came to his rescue.
I think political and military purposes against the pirates weren’t the only reasons RAFT wanted to ally with the Undersea. “Joining forces” with them led either to less suspicion as they funneled triton out of the ocean and to the recently abandoned Promised Bastion, or coming to dominate them allowed RAFT to simply take triton without enough pushback. Either way, without their Champion to rise against them (the one triton on the hooks accused Gillion of abandoning them), they’ve been taken en masse. And maybe Edyn’s collaboration with the navy permitted her some of this knowledge, and that’s how she knew to hide Gillion from prying eyes in navy territory.
Uhhh tldr: It’s weird that there’s an injured triton in the Eastern Oversea. I think DPH could imply that Finn and his lover were imprisoned by RAFT as test subjects for the artificial leviathan and black ops projects, proving the longevity of Fay Ferin’s plans.
#finn tidestrider#just roll with it#jrwi theory#jrwi riptide#jrwi thoughts#jrwi spoilers#jrwi riptide spoilers#I was just thinking about the band au and Finn as a songwriter… and it devolved into. this.#does this even count as a theory? like was this obvious? or am I going insane?#guys help I’m going crazy#Finn Tidestrider the man that you are…#he’s occupying a big piece of the brain rn#anyway#lmao
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bleak horizons
summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.
warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)
author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol
i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.
(not proofread, sorry abt that)
pt1 — pt2
you look so out of it
pull it together
we can love you
forever and ever
I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.
I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.
After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.
Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.
“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.
“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”
I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.
“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.
She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”
She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”
“Resources about what?”
“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”
It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.
“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.
“That's all you have to say?”
“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”
“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”
“For what, mother?”
“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”
I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.
“You okay?”
Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.
I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”
“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”
I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”
“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”
“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”
“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.
Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.
I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.
I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.
I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.
“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”
If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”
I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”
Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”
“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”
She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”
After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.
I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.
So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.
“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”
“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.
She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.
When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.
“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.
“It's going well, I guess.”
“You guess?”
"I just hate my boss."
I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”
“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”
I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”
“Just nice?”
“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.
Oh, oh.
I like Ellie.
Fuck, yeah. You do.
Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.
Ellie is flushed. I can tell.
“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.
The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.
“What if I do?”
She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”
What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.
It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.
We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.
“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”
She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.
“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”
“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.
Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”
“Shut up,” I say.
“Oh, make me.”
And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.
I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.
Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.
“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”
“Yeah, okay. Okay.”
Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense.
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#the last of us 2#tlou#mental health awareness#ellie williams x y/n#wlw#lesbian#depression awarness#idk what is this#fic
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Kudo is actually such a kind, soft-hearted guy that had to toughen up because he cared too much
He looked at AFO's rule, and even though he was weak, he had that glint in his eye that has been referred to as the "will of a hero" to oppose him. A hopeful glint shared with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Hawks
He even parallels Hawks when they talk about that particular look in their eye
From a glimmer in the eye, to which eye is shown, how much of the face, a similar angle of the face, and placement of text questioning the existence of that light,
He stormed to kill Yoichi with Bruce, but couldn't, once he saw the state Yoichi was in. Even knowing he was the enemy, he still reached out his hand and never let go, even when they were running
When Yoichi died, even though they'd only been together for two months, Kudo still cried and froze up.
This is a reaction from a man who repeatedly used lives as a stepping stone for his own goal.
Kudo said himself, that victory was life, and defeat was death. He had killed and seen his friends killed over and over, but still cries when it happens again. And to someone he only knew for two months, at that.
Kudo gathered allies under his cause, and they were loyal enough to die for him. Bruce cries (still smiling tho) facing AFO, tried protecting Kudo when he froze up at Yoichi's death, and we see all Kudo's comrades dead in the end. Maybe Bruce was suicidal when he went to face AFO, knowing he'd die, but most of his comrades (and Kudo) were already gone. Their cause was snuffed out, but the will persisted.
Kudo is a bit like Aizawa.
A bit crass and blunt, doesn't like beating around the bush, but he can clearly see what kind of person you are. He's not openly kind, but you know he cares so much, but has also lost too much once. He's seen his friend(s) die, and shouldn't it have been him in that spot? Shouldn't he have died instead, but was forced to continue living for that dead person's sake?
His speech about why we call Abilities "Quirks", recognizing people's intent over raw power is the real power. (Ch 369)
He's blunt and goes straight to the results rather than beat around the bush, but it doesn't mean his heart is frozen and he doesn't care about you. (Ch 408)
He cares so much, and that's why he has to do so much. (His whole Resistance thing, figuring out how Yoichi's Factor works to make sure Yoichi and his will can live on in some way)
He recognizes that Midoriya isn't driven by duty, but that he genuinely adores Quirks too much. (Ch 414) He could look at Midoriya, read that immediately, and even though he looked through his memories, Midoriya's character was his takeaway. Not that Midoriya is an idiot for letting himself be stepped on, or that this kid was bullied, but that Midoriya could see the goodness in others.
Like how Aizawa saw that Midoriya was relying on the reason [It can't be helped] whenever OFA broke his bones and told him he can't always break himself just because he could be fixed (Midoriya's recklessness that showed itself on the first day of school). He called out something that was an underlying, innate belief to Midoriya, that was so normal to the teen, and no one else had brought up as wrong to him.
The first thing they perceive is a person's character.
When Aizawa tied up Midoriya on the first day of school, he wasn't telling him off over his Quirk destroying him being a PR thing or too gruesome for the public. It was out of the fact that his Quirk shouldn't destroy him, because it's dangerous for Midoriya.
Aizawa came off antagonistic, but he was looking out for Midoriya. He didn't want him to keep breaking his whole arm, he didn't want him to get stuck in the mindset that he had to get hurt to use his Quirk, he was looking out for his wellbeing from the start. A kid he didn't know personally until that day.
Kudo did a similar thing. He turned his back, and refused to help, because they were putting their hopes in a delusional boy who would go too far. When the vestiges realized their gathered Abilities and Quirks were letting Midoriya have the freedom to do as he wished, Kudo already knew, only saying "His path is the right one". He could relate to having to run full-sprint to see your goal realized, even if everything opposed him, but didn't want Midoriya to go through that same path alone.
If he were alone, he'd be like Nagant. He had to have comrades to be like Kudo, able to continue and stand for their beliefs, but having comrades to fall back on, or pull him back when it's too much. That's why he follows up in that moment with, "But, if there's something Midoriya does need..."
Kudo and Aizawa could see themselves or their comrades in others, and knew how to approach those character flaws that were normalized to others and said person.
Kudo could see others for who they were, and I think it's this, and his caring nature, that he gathered so many allies with him. He knew when to be blunt, when to show kindness, that the truth hurts but needs to be seen, was actually very logical and witty, and when to step aside and let people do their thing, even if it wasn't the best move (like saving All Might). Because that was what was best for that person.
It's not like people would join someone so wholeheartedly without conviction and being left unseen by that person. So many people were willing to die with and for Kudo, and Bruce believes in him so much.
When All Might's vestige was fading and becoming more solid, Kudo had to look away. They knew it meant All Might was dying in the real world.
Kudo was telling Midoriya not to intervene with Gearshift there. But once he saw All Might genuinely dying out, he couldn't look at him, and kept quiet. He stopped hanging onto battlefield logic of necessity, shut up, let Midoriya do his thing, and it saved All Might. It saved Midoriya from seeing his idol die in front of him, and Kudo didn't have to see another ally die beside him.
The chapter is literally called [We Love You All Might!!]. Even if it's just meant to focus in Bakugo and Midoriya, and only has 2 exclamation marks, it can't discount the world is watching. The vestiges care about All Might too.
When the vestiges come up with the plan to forcibly transfer themselves to deal damage, Kudo volunteers himself as the test dummy. Sure, he backs it with a lot of reason too, but he didn't want anyone else to go first as a test drive
He, with a Gearshift Ability that resembled a manual car, was the test drive. Ha ha pun- *gets shot*
En tried going first. Kudo rejected him, saying he would go first.
"Part ways with Gearshift [me], and you'll be free of the crippling recoil too."
Too. TOO.
KUDO JUST WANTED TO GO AND BE DESTROYED FIRST. HE PUT THE FREEDOM OF RECOIL DOWN AS AN EXTRA BONUS SO THEY'D AGREE WITH HIS CHOICE.
I'd cut the image so it looks better, and I can use Bruce's words elsewhere, but this is an image limit, so,
- Kudo refused to let anyone else go first. This was before giving reasons to convince them he should leave first
- En gives reason to why it can't be Kudo. Kudo just says, "Listen." and reminds them of now.
- Look at Kudo's face when he says that. The guy knows what he's doing when he cuts off En, and would probably be a horrible liar. He might as well be pulling this out of his ass.
He's said "The world will end" "You have to or else" "Five minutes" "You're going to die" a few times in this fight already. DUDE STOPPP
(Terrible liar and a guy who purposely eggs you to torment? What a great friend he would be [yknow, when u make ur friends freak out by being ominous or reminding them of stuff. Like Toast to Lilypichu in a game of Observation Duty])
- "Too."
- Bruce's trust in him, but knowing when to pull Kudo back from going too far
Also, when he's transferred, he smiles to Midoriya. He knows he's about to die again, but the last thing he does for Midoriya is
1) Take away the recoil of his existence as a Factor on the boy
2) Reassure him that it's okay, so it doesn't weigh on his conscience
Even if only in thought, STILL!
KUDO LOOKED SO PROUD OF MIDORIYA!
I bet Kudo is suuuch a sentimental fool
> [Be me and watch your new friend die]
> [I have Yoichi's Factor]
> [It's like I carry his will now]
> [Have a glint of opposition in my eye that drives the Demon Lord and my comrades (Bruce) crazy]
> [Hey Bruce, let's figure out how it transfers]
> [Bruce's common sense VS my rabid ideas]
> [I win]
> [Bruce was unwilling the whole time and still ends up with the Factor]
> [The Factor is named One For All, after something in Yoichi's favorite comic book series]
> [We pass it on to the future to carry forward]
> [Even as everyone else and me dies, I make sure Yoichi and his will are safe from his Demon Lord brother that locked him up]
> [Decades later, my sweet vaulted friend reminds me of when we met]
> [I turn around and give my whole-hearted support to believe in some 15-year old boy because Yoichi believes in him too]
SEN - TIM - ENT - AL!
When Shinomori was stolen by AFO, Shinomori pushed everyone away before they could really notice the invader. Kudo called out for him.
Everyone is in shock, but I don't think it's a mistake that the text bubble calling out for Shinomori is pointing from Kudo.
All For One made it through and is ready to steal them, but the first thing Kudo did was call out for the one at the very front.
[On the post I made that mentions Shinomori pushing everyone away] What if Kudo wasn't pushed away? What if this was him at the front, realizing the danger and turning around, but being unable to do anything for Shinomori when he saw?
Like Bruce, Kudo communicates. He doesn't expect you to just follow or understand him. He actually lays it out and makes sure you keep up.
He explains
- the transfer of vestiges, and why he should go first
- his Quirk
- why Quirks are Quirks
- reports to Midoriya what's happening and what's next
- to Yoichi why they couldn't trust in a delusional boy. In a way that wasn't Bruce's roundabout "we lived in a terrible era and a leader gathered us"
When En panics, he barks at En to keep up. By barking at him, rather than any other way he could've used his tone, it shuts up En in his frantic babbling. Kudo also lets Vestige Might put in his thoughts to understand better, and uses it.
Eye reflection. Kudo can really see people for who they are, and understands others, and himself.
I can't repeat the pics cuz image limit, but look at previous panels here. For example, Kudo saying Yoichi's will lives in him, and when AFO reflected in his eyes
It's something I learned from Re:Zero. When a person in reflected in one's eye, something something that person can see the true core of you, of what you really are underneath everything. The eyes are the window and mirror [glass] of the soul. I finally see the true you.
AFO never reflected anyone.
But Kudo reflected AFO when the man accidentally killed Yoichi. He saw that AFO wasn't seeing anything, so later, Kudo smiled and mocked AFO at his own death.
"Yoichi?"
"He's gone."
"You killed him, Demon Lord."
And AFO hated that reminder.
Kudo was reminding him of what the truth was. Kudo saw it himself, and AFO blocked it out from the get-go. Kudo already knew what AFO was, what he was seeing, what he was doing to himself by blaming Kudo instead of himself.
And then, Kudo's eyes reflected his own hand when he realized Yoichi's Factor was in him.
Kudo clearly saw himself, and in himself, Yoichi. Nothing distorted it. It really was a clear mirror.
He really perceived Yoichi's will was living on, and was right. Otherwise, his eyes wouldn't have shown it.
Kudo was right about AFO. It's even implied back when he and Bruce had their backs turned; Kudo knew what AFO's real goal was. That was back when AFO preached unity and division under him.
Kudo could always see right through AFO. He really understood people from the start. And he never tried making up truths to justify what he was seeing, facing it head-on.
Kudo's lying about the world being black and white.
Kudo and Bruce saw the world as black and white. This was mentioned in the void.
Kudo also says, "Victory meant life. Defeat meant death."
But it's the Resistance. It's when Japan and the world was at their lowest. The world wasn't black and white; there's lots of gray.
Kudo and Bruce would've seen this. Kudo even admits that there's gray, just not directly.
Kudo says Yoichi knows, how he killed and trampled so many lives, to get back at AFO. He knows it wasn't right, or an amazing choice. Later, he says that when your back is against the wall, you have to make callous judgements. These hint at gray moments.
Kudo and Bruce have faced and been in the gray. But it's too hard to make the right choices, and there are times there is no right answer.
Historically, soldiers would convince themselves the enemy were monsters. They wouldn't be able to fight and kill them otherwise. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves without believing in this so badly.
Kudo and Bruce had to have been the same way. They were Meta Humans [Monsters] in a time they were viewed as diseased humans. The monsters were real. And they had a Demon Lord. Kudo and Bruce literally dressed up as soldiers.
Even if they were monsters to society, being Meta, Kudo and Bruce were still human. They knew this. The ones who tried believing in only black and white were inhabitants of the gray itself.
But they have to protect themselves. Kudo is so adamant that the world is only black and white, because he can't stand the gray. What it makes him do, what it means, that he's too weak to do anything.
Yoichi is an example of that gray area. The mortal enemy's younger brother, was actually locked up and sickly. He's just a comic book nerd. And it humanized the other side Kudo opposed so vehemently.
Kudo says victory is life and defeat is death. And Yoichi asked why he reached out to him then. He reminded Kudo of that gray area, and Kudo opened up.
Kudo might avoid the gray area because it's a matter of the heart and a moral dilemma, but it's what makes him human. When there's no right answer in the battlefield, he decides on his feelings instead.
He wishes the world was black and white, because it'd be so easy. But it's not.
Yoichi reminded him of how entering that gray area led to OFA ("when you reached out your hand to me"), and it had been the best choice in the end. The gray area is real, and Kudo's left a bare man with only his emotions when he's there.
Kudo is actually really kind and understanding. He's too soft for his own good. Thanks if you made it this far, I hope it makes sense (tag and image limit)
#KUDO IS UNDERRATED NEEDS MORE CONTENT RECOGNITION HES THE KINDEST WITTLE BOY EVER#my thoughts#i think ppl who write resistance stuff should also consider that not everything was black and white#there will be moral arguments where you cant decide. and the resistance has faced those sorts of things where There Is No Right Answer.#kudo is really kind tho. exactly because he cares so much he does all these things and tries to harden himself#but like exoskeletons work - its only an armor to protect the soft squishy insides and keep them from drying out#i woke up and had to put this stuff down#me: *picks up a sentence note in my fic notes* *puts it down here and elaborates*#the line was in relation to putting down stuff about the vestiges to remember dynamics#[Kudo is the kindest despite appearances]#kudo seems like he would be fiercely protective over ppl he cares about. exactly because hes seen so many of his comrades die over and over#kudo#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#spoilers#ofa#one for all#bruce#bruce is the meme of “*chuckles* I'm in danger” and its just. Kudo w/ his new crazy idea chasing him down with Gearshift and Yoichis Factor#hikage shinomori#en tayutai#yoichi shigaraki#ive been thinking he was kind for a long time but never elaborated why. if u look at his actions words and thoughts it all makes sense#theres underlying kindness in there. he wants to be kind but the world would scorch him if he didnt have a stick up his ass#also adding on to the prev tag of kudo and fiercely protective- because in their times comrades were everything. otherwise you were alone#the world sucks resources are limited and youre a diseased human [Meta]. but you have someone willing to walk with you.#also about the [Kudo is the kindest] note among the vestiges- i dont think any of the other vestiges would do what kudo did#calmly volunteering himself rather than it being in panic. extending a hand and saving what shouldve been his mortal enemy. yknow
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Reckoner: Final Part
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.3k
Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
x
Thankfully, the team has the current case to keep them occupied so they don't think about you, but Spencer doesn't have that outlet. He's stuck in Penelope's office forced to think about you, what you might be going through, how you must be feeling, and how he can't do anything about it. He's bouncing his leg up and down rapidly because his anxiety is spiking. He would bite his nails if they hadn't already been bitten down to the nub.
"Spence, why don't you take a walk? I'm sure it'll do good to clear your head," Penelope suggests.
"No, thanks."
She sighs and turns back to the computer screens before calling Rossi. She's been working hard on her end to try and figure out who The Planner is.
"What do you have?" Rossi answers.
"I've concentrated on the last three cases because they left the freshest e-prints. However, over a hundred thousand cases pass through the Long Island Court."
"Who had eyes on the files?"
"Literally hundreds of people."
"Change track. Focus on The Enforcer. Look at mob-related murder trials on Long Island over the last ten years. We're looking for a hitman."
Penelope types quickly and comes up with a shorter list, albeit still long.
"There are over ninety-three mob trials in the last ten years."
"Put aside any trials that resulted in a conviction. Weed out mistrials and arraignments."
"Nineteen."
"Were any of those on trial suspected of being hitmen or enforcers?"
"Three, but I got something else here. Tony Mecacci's case was judged a mistrial but check out his suspected victim."
She sends over the file immediately so they can look it over. His victims are the same as the team's current victims. All were shot in the same style as the ones on the file.
".22 caliber, right?"
"Bulls-eye."
"Cross-match our profile of The Planner against all those connected with this trial."
Penelope continues to type as she speaks.
"Let's see here. We have prosecuting lawyer Garret Daniels, Judge Boyd Schuller, criminal defense lawyer Paul--"
"Wait, did you say Judge Shuller?" Rossi cuts her off.
"Yeah, I'm sending over a photo."
Rossi waits for the photo to come through so he can confirm whether or not he knows this person. He does.
"What's wrong?" Hotch asks. "Do you know him?"
"No, but I knew his wife. Two years ago, she was driving home from work and was killed by a drunk driver."
"That could be the tragedy."
"She was the love of his life, that's for sure."
Penelope digs into the Judge's life to see what kind of dirty secrets he has.
"Twelve months ago, Judge Shuller took a leave of absence due to health issues. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He has six months to live. That's when the killings started."
"You don't seriously think Judge--"
"Judge Schuller is the planner. Yes, I do," Rossi cuts off the detective. "It fits the profile, and Tony Mecacci is most likely Bosola the Enforcer. What have you got on Bosola?"
"He went off the grid after his last trial," Penelope answers.
"JJ put out a statewide APB and release Mecacci's photo to the media," Hotch orders, and she leaves to do it.
"Judge Schuller's a highly-respected man. We can't just walk in there and accuse him of serial murder."
"Then I'll go to the attorney general and petition the Chief Justice if I have to."
Rossi looks behind Hotch to see Judge Schuller walk right into the police station as if he knew the team was talking about him.
"Maybe not."
"I believe you're looking for me," the Judge says.
Judge Schuller is taken to an interrogation room to be questioned by Rossi and Derek.
"You know we have to advise you of your rights," Derek says and sits across from him.
"I waive my constitutional rights against self-incrimination."
"When you walked in here, you said, 'I believe you're looking for me'."
"Yes."
"Your timing was impeccable, but how could you know that?"
"I knew it wouldn't take you long to find me. Not after what I've left behind."
"So, you don't deny any of this?" Derek asks.
"Why would I? What you see as a crime, I see as justice."
"Ray Finnegan was a friend of mine," Rossi glares.
"Ray Finnegan was a criminal. You should choose your friends more wisely."
"It must have really thrown you when Ray showed up at Emma's funeral."
This pisses Judge Schuller off, and he slams his hands angrily onto the table.
"How do you know about my wife?"
"You have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?"
Ray told Rossi that everyone only meets Bosola once. That means Judge Schuller had to have given Bosola a list of names. He would never have to meet him again, just to make final payments on proof of death which he can send electronically. If anyone can get into Schuller's personal files and financial record, it would be Penelope. She has to do it quickly before everything gets shut down.
Detective Gill made a call to Schuller's office a few hours ago and told them they had two suspects, which means he knows what the police know. Schuller knows the FBI is onto him, which means he didn't come here for a confession. He has a list, and there is more to come.
He came here to stall.
"Can we just get on with what I came here for?" Judge Schuller sighs.
"Why? So Bosola can go on and carry on whatever it is you asked him to do? No. You call him and you end this," Derek says.
"Even if I could, I wouldn't."
"She was born Emma Louise Taylor on the 4th of July, 1958," Rossi reminisces.
"You could get that from anywhere," Schuller glares at Rossi.
"When she was six, her dad bought her a black and white homeless kitten."
"No, if she knew you, she would have told me."
"She named it Oscar," Rossi continues, "after Oscar Wilde. Out of all of Oscar's work, she loved an ideal husband the most."
The judge is getting angrier by the minute the longer Rossi talks about his wife.
"I don't know how you know all of this about Emma or what you hope to achieve, but we're done. You know the charges. Charge me."
"Is that what started all this insanity? Emma's death?"
"What started all of this was the thirty-five years I had to sit and watch as the system I swore an oath to protect failed the very people our justice system was meant to protect!"
"I wonder what Emma would make of all this."
"Every single person on that list deserves justice, and it's justice they managed to evade," Schuller shouts.
"So, you do have a list?" Rossi smirks.
"I'm finished talking."
Rossi and Derek continue to work over Judge Schuller while Emily is in another room talking to Penelope over video chat. Spencer isn't in the room because she managed to convince him to take a lap or two around the building to clear his head or try to.
"Hey, where's Spence? How is he doing?" Emily asks when she notices the lack of Spencer's presence.
"He's not doing too good. He doesn't have the hands-on work like you guys have to keep him distracted. It's killing him knowing Y/N's in jail for something she didn't do."
"Yeah, I know. It's hard on us, too. We don't talk about it but I know we're all thinking about it. Hotch will fix it once we're back, I know it."
"Yeah, me too."
"So, what did you find out about Judge Schuller?"
"We've got loads of two-way traffic going on, which means someone is trying to bounce us out."
"Okay, Bosola doesn't come cheap, so Judge Schuller had to have made some pretty substantial transactions."
"I've got wire transfers to a Cayman Island bank, and that's where the trace ends."
"How many and how much?"
"In June, he debits numerations of nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine dollars every few days four separate times. Then, he takes a break for a few weeks until he makes his final transaction for the same magic number. Anything less than ten thousand dollars keeps the IRS off your trail."
"So, the final payment must be for proof of death. That makes fifty-thousand dollars the price of a kill."
"He did that three times over a period of twelve months, but two days ago, he raised his account for a hundred thousand dollars all in one hit. He also closed all his accounts and handed his entire estate over to a victim's support group." Penelope gasps in shock and groans in frustration. "Someone who isn't suffering from too many brainiacs in the high-tech kitchen just bounced us out."
"Good job," Emily praises and hangs up. She returns to Hotch to tell him her findings. "If our calculations are correct, there are two more names on that list."
"There are."
Hotch replays the footage from the interrogation from when Emily was on the phone with Penelope.
"Every single person on that list deserves justice," Judge Schuller says and looks at his watch yet again.
"He said deserves, not deserved. Look right there. He looks at his watch for the second time. Whatever he's waiting for is about to happen."
"I don't think you knew Emma at all," Rossi continues to antagonize him. "At least not the one I knew. I made an excuse for myself that I wouldn't be welcome at her funeral. The truth is, I couldn't face it."
"You knowing Emma changes nothing."
"Oh, but it does. Emma changed the lives of everyone she knew, but at least Ray and I saw her death for what it truly was--a tragic accident."
"Dan Patton was drunk. He murdered Emma as surely as if he put a gun to her head!" Judge Schuller yells.
"Is that why his photo's not here? You're saving the best for last? How many other people have you targeted? I want the truth."
"I have nothing more to say."
"I do. I ran into Emma a few years ago at a hotel in Manhattan. I was working on a case and so was she. I knew she was married, but I didn't care."
Judge Schuller knows what Rossi is implying and he refuses to accept that his wife was cheating on him.
"No, she wouldn't... Emma would not do that to me. You're lying."
"Am I?"
"I want the truth."
"You first."
The Judge sighs knowing he's cornered and decides to give it up.
"Dan Patton is the last one. There are no more. Now, tell me the truth."
"That night in Manhattan, she told me our connection was so strong that it could never happen only once, and I was fine with that."
Rossi leaves with a smirk on his face, and the judge is shocked. He shakes his head and looks at Derek who is still seated.
"At least you now know what kind of man you're working with."
"What kind of man are you?"
"I've had enough of seeing the guilty walk free of their sins."
"What about your sins?"
"I got cancer for mine."
Emily, Hotch, and Detective Gil went to Dan's apartment after checking the police department he works for. Turns out Bosola got to him before the FBI could. They found him with two bullet holes, one in the heart and one in the head, but also beaten to death. Bosola is nowhere to be found because he killed him and left immediately after like a professional hitman.
There's no way Bosola is getting off Long Island since the FBI has all ports, roads, and airports guarded to make sure he doesn't get away. Judge Schuller is being moved somewhere safer because he is a high-court judge, which makes this a federal case now. The FBI is taking over this one before more people get killed. If Dan is dead, then the judge's list is complete.
However, something isn't adding up.
The Judge gave away his entire estate and all his money, and he closed out his accounts and paid off his utility bills. He has cancer but he has six months left to live. Why would he pay off his bills now and give away everything he owns? Not to mention the one hundred thousand dollar payment for not one but two more kills. If Dan was killed, then there should be one more.
Usually, the judge waits for confirmation of death before sending the payment, but he knew he wasn't going to be around to see this last proof of death. He sent everything over because he was not making it ten feet out of the police station.
Bosola has one more kill to make before moving on to another client, and it's Judge Schuller himself. With a crowd of reporters and a bunch of bystanders, it's easy for him to blend into the crowd. He managed to shoot Schuller in the heart and escape without anyone seeing him.
Case closed. With that major distraction out of the way, everyone is now focused on you and your situation. No one has said a word or talked about it since Hotch arrived in Long Island, but he's been making calls since getting on the plane to figure out what he can do to help you out.
The first person to get back to him is the lawyer that your dad snagged for you. He got ahold of his contact information and asked nicely to be let into the loop since he is your boss.
"Steven? Did you hear anything?" Everyone knows what Hotch is talking about so they stop what they're doing and listen to his side of the conversation. Hotch looks visibly upset which isn't a good sign. "Are you sure? ... There's nothing you can do for her? ... What about bail? ... Is there anything I can do? ... Okay. I appreciate you calling me. Thanks."
"What did he say?" Derek is the first to ask.
Hotch looks down and tries to keep the anger and frustration off his face as much as he can. When he feels he's neutral, he looks up and addresses the team.
"Y/N is being transferred to Virginia Correctional Center for Women in Goochland awaiting trial and bail. He said they have everything they need to convict her, and it's not looking good. Whoever did this really wants her to suffer for it."
Everyone is sent into silence because no one can believe this.
"I have always found that mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice." - Abraham Lincoln
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite#criminal minds season 5
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Hello dear! I saw that your requests were open & you take requests for Naruto, could you write headcanons of Itachi with a girl who’s just as admired as him? How would he take that situation especially when he has a crush on her as well? 👀 Please take your time with it & if you don’t wish to write it or it doesn’t spark the interest, feel free to discard it <3 have a great day!
[ 🌸 ] hi sweetie 🤍 hope you are good too
characters: itachi uchiha; other characters mentioned
genre: fluff, a romantic comedy maybe (?)
warnings: none, a nervous itachi feat; two meddling fools (shisui and sasuke)
…
..
.
—Ay
—Well
—What a funny situation!
—No, but seriously
—Maybe his attention focused on you the moment you were promoted to Jonin, or maybe when his own Jonin colleagues and retired ANBU companions were talking about this lovely medical ninja.
—Don't get it wrong, but how could he avoid feeling intrigued when his own retired ANBU colleagues kept talking about this person, always commenting on how careful and beautiful you looked when you were healing them?
—But, of course, it wasn't until you were paired with his team for a mission that split into two missions that he really got interested in you.
—You were put on his team by the Hokage, all because they needed to escort a medical ninja from Konoha to the Sand Village to see the Daimyo, who had been poisoned with a strange venom by one of his servants who turned out to be an infiltrated spy following the orders of a missing ninja from Konoha.
—His team, on the other hand, was sent to find both.
—He didn't think much of you, more like another member of his team. Of course, that was until on the way back (surprisingly) he got hurt by a venomous kunai from a rogue ninja who attacked them.
—You extracted the venom without complications; however, what you didn't notice was that he was watching you while you did your work.
—And that’s where the magic happened.
—Maybe it helped that he was already interested in you long before meeting you in person, or maybe not.
—Anyway.
—Itachi wasn’t foolish; he had already heard about you before, but seeing you up close, he could understand why so many people talked about you.
—When they arrived in Konoha and he had the chance, he thanked you for taking care of him.
—It was when you reassured him saying there was no problem that he fell.
—He fell HARD for you.
—aNYWAY
—I think I already said it before… but I'll say it again!
—For some reason, Itachi tries to find more information about you, you know, the usual: parents, friends, likes, secrets, though he wouldn’t go as far as stalking you (or maybe he would, who knows).
—Poor Itachi.
—In love and being teased by Shisui about it, who encourages him to confess.
—Sasuke joins in too for some reason (little brat)
“Sasuke, what are you...?”
“You should go and confess to her or at least ask her out, you know? You finally look interested and happy with someone, and you don’t look so bitter anymore-”
POKE
“Ouch! What was that for-?”
POKE
—He tries!
—He really does, but whenever he tries to approach you, you are talking to someone.
—He doesn't want to intrude on your conversation and look like a fool (poor thing).
—It wasn't until one day, while you were walking through the streets of Konoha, that he appeared out of nowhere (boy, he was literally thrown towards where you were by Shisui).
—You two almost collided if it weren't for Itachi's good reflexes.
—Despite his nervousness, he manages to invite you to eat (please say yes, the poor guy's heart is about to burst).
—To his good fortune, you say yes (he swore his soul left and returned to his body).
—Slowly you two begin to spend more time together.
—Whether it's for missions or their unexpected encounters to go out to eat.
—Itachi starts suggesting the idea of training together.
—Gradually realizing that his little crush turned into something big when he really gets to know you for who you are.
—Constantly trying to find signs that maybe you feel the same way about him.
—Itachi realizing that maybe he's not as careful as he thinks he is when his mother and father find out about his crush.
—It wasn't until he found out that Shisui and Sasuke spilled the beans to his mother and his mother to his father.
—He swears he wants to disappear at the happy and constant questions and teasing from his mother about his crush in front of his father’s amused gaze.
—Now his family wants to meet you, ay.
—He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.
—He really doesn't want to.
—Especially making you think that he’s just another one of those admirers who don't see beyond your looks.
—*sigh* If only instead of constantly thinking about how beautiful you look, he noticed how you look at him and how your eyes shine, he would stop thinking that he’s going to make you uncomfortable.
—All this is a time bomb though!
—In the sense of who knows which one of you will confess first; you or him.
—lmao
#naruto#naruto shippuden#itachi uchiha x reader#uchiha itachi#itachi#itachi headcanons#itachi x reader#itachi uchiha#itachi x you#itachi imagines
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how about jealously with randal n reader? :3 like reader is jealous that randal is hanging out with satoru more than her while dreaming so reader hangs out with sebastian, making randal jealous ?? sorry for my bad english, its not my first language :))
Jelly | Randal Ivory
➷ Paring - Randal Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]
➷ CWs - master/pet play, fingering, unsafe sex, praise, licking/biting, possessive tendencies, jealousy
a/n - exams have been a bit occupying unfortunately :( i still have a lot of concepts and requests i want to get to, you guys have awesome ideas and i love seeing them in my inbox !! u should see my google docs rn lol
It's hard to not scoff when Randal wakes up and immediately starts talking about his dream. It's become an annoyingly common thing now ever since Randal informed you about his little dream friend, Satoru Tsukada. Even seeming disappointed when he doesn't get a dream with him in it.
Almost every night he snuggles up against you in his coffin, nibbling at your ear and whispering cheekily, “I really hope you come into my dream tonight, imagine the fun we’d all have!” He pulls you closer, elating how proximity raises the chances of this happening.
You suck in any annoyance and nod because you're still his good pet. Though, internally you fight the urge to roll your eyes and admit “I don't really care about that guy.”
A gripping feeling twists in your stomach each morning when you wake up without the shared lucidity, hearing about all the fun Randal had that night.
Sheepishly, you push it down and let him talk.
Though, you tune out most of it – for your sake, as an overwhelming feeling of envy washes over you whenever you do pay attention to his words.
A thought reverberates about not being enough for him. Is the novelty of a new friend enough to push you away? It's not like you don't already share Randal’s attention. Sebastian exists, of course.
You two got along well enough, much to Randal’s satisfaction. Though, you admit that your focus lied more on the unpredictable gakuran-clad young man.
And despite your initial standoffish attitude when Sebastian was gifted to Randal, you quickly learned he wasn't a threat at all. He just had some unfortunate circumstances and ended up here.
Therefore, you didn't have to fight for attention and Sebastian seemed to appreciate that you were at least cordial to him. Nobody was in the way.
So maybe this is why you have so much more of a problem with this Satoru character. You don't know him, and the only way you could is completely up to chance.
How do you compete with that? Based on Randal’s stories, they tend to have a ball of a time. You really try to convince yourself that you're better, that you're overthinking and Randal isn't losing interest in you.
But at night, when his arms wrap around your body, it's clear his mind is somewhere else. Satoru is a part of him, always in the dream-plane, waiting for him with open arms. Somewhere where you aren't.
Jealousy ten-folds and insecurity festers within as time goes on. Your own stressed voice tells you to relax, but an even louder one continues to complain.
On a day where Randal is occupied with Luther, leaving you and Sebastian alone in the house, you can't seem to keep it in anymore.
Words seep out of your mouth, “Am I doing something wrong?” It's quiet and Sebastian immediately looks uncomfortable.
“Um… with what?” He shifts in his seat in the living room, avoiding eye contact with you. He's not to blame, you rarely had conversations that didn't involve Randal. Maybe you should have put more of an effort to get to know him before dumping this on him. Still, you continue.
“I don't know, what if Randal doesn't like me anymore?” You speak softly, but the candidness is clear. Sebastian isn't used to this vulnerability, he was just brainstorming an attempt to escape (again) but now he has to comfort you…
Thing is, he doesn't know how to do that. Maybe he would feel more sympathetic if Randal wasn't a complete freak, (he still doesn't understand your affinity for the young man) but you haven't done anything bad to him. He doesn't want to be rude to the only normal enough person here.
“He definitely likes you.” Which is the truth, anybody with eyes could see the relationship dynamic. You always doted behind Randal, doing anything he asked of you. And Randal was more than happy to have you crawl around for him if it meant you’d get a kiss.
It goes to say that you might seem more like a lover to Randal than a pet. He thinks himself lucky for not walking in on you guys yet…
Which might be why he was taken by Luther, Randal probably finds it more fun to torment and bother someone who wasn't as willing as you–
“Wait… I dont– I don't want to steal Randal from you! I actually want to get out of here–” He stammers before you cut him off with a laugh. A change in tone, good sign. “I know that, don't worry.”
Sebastian sighs and relaxes a bit, but still fidgets with the white sleeves of his god awful outfit. It then clicks it might be about that dream guy Randal hasn't stopped boosting about recently. He almost certainly wants to roll his eyes. “Is it Satoru?”
Immediately, you jump up and grab at Sebastian’s arms. “You see it too, right?! It's so annoying, I’m so sick of hearing about it every morning! We haven't even met the guy, but apparently they are best friends. Fucking stupid.”
Sebastian nodded along to your words. To him, it was annoying but it also occupied the eccentric weirdo. Better he’s entertained by Satoru than him. Still, he lets you complain, and it becomes evident to just how much this was eating you up inside.
You both don't realize how time has passed until Randal stampers into the room with an ominous black bag that is dripping green slime. Neither of you question it.
“Whatcha’ talking about?” He swings the bag over his shoulders and nearly falls back with the force, catching himself.
Sebastian notices how you immediately smile at Randal despite the complaining you've been unloading onto him for the past couple hours, how ironic. “O-Oh, nothing much. How was your outing with Luther?”
Randal shrugs and then drops the bag onto the couch, undoubtedly staining it with the goopy substance. Luther will have a problem with that later.
“Within bounds. Now I’m just tired… how about we go to sleep!” He says it more like an order than a suggestion.
Your smile immediately drops, “It's like 6PM.”
“Actuallyyyy, 6:38.”
---
You want to smack yourself for not being more welcoming to Sebastian, he actually isn't that bad of a guy. He’s still a bit awkward, (he seems to constantly radiate it) and he has no shame in expressing to you how he wants to escape the house. You giggle and give him a “good luck with that”
Still, he's easy to talk to with the ever growing free time you have now. Though, despite your attitude, a part of you still craves to be around Randal.
You wish you could prod into his brain and yank Satoru out of there. If he really wants Randal, he can fight you for it. You doubt he’s even strong outside of the stupid dream-plane he lives in.
Unfortunately, you haven't been paying attention to the conversation with Sebastian, and now he's pausing for your reply. Sweat dropping, you let out a laugh, hoping it fits as a response.
He stares, “You think my goldfish getting run over is funny?”
“No, no, I don't– wait? Run over? How’d–”
The bewildered sentence doesn't get the chance to finish before the sensation of oddly cold, but familiar, hands wrap around your waist and drag into an adjacent room.
“Randal– what do you want?” It comes out more harsh than you expected, and you can see the slight grimace on Randal’s face.
His hands leave your waist, now folding across his chest, “Long time no see.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Well, you've been a bit busy.”
Randal pauses before letting out a big laugh, “Doll, I always have time for you!” A traitorous blush spreads across your face, huffing, “Doesn't look like it.”
Randal steps a bit closer, “I thought Sebastian was keeping you plenty company.” His lips tug upward, “You two have gotten close, that's cute.”
His eyes contrast his smile, there's a clear coat of irk behind them. Holy shit, is he… jealous? You perk up, suddenly gaining some confidence… and leverage.
“Yeah, we talk.” You show him a coy smile, his eye twitches for a second. “Awesome… about what, exactly? Tell me all the deets.”
“Oh, y’know.”
“I don't, I literally don't.”
“What does it matter?” You hum cheekily before adding, “Anyways, isn't it past your bedtime right now?"
It was far too bold, but god, did it feel good to say. Randal reacts accordingly by pinning you against the wall. He's peeved, and you should really be scared, but you can't help but buckle at the proximity.
Randal’s voice is unusually low, his eyes staring into yours, “You’ve forgotten who you're talking to, doll. I think I need to remind you, heheh.”
Your confidence is beginning to crumble, but you still manage to get a reply out through quivering lips, “Sebastian is right outside.” Randal grins, “Good.”
A gloved hand trails your torso before it finds its way under the hem of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down and past your ankles. You have to hold back a gasp when a cold finger circles the pearl of your clit.
Randal draws closer, his hot breath pressed against your neck. A warm tongue laps up and down the side before teeth bite down and suckle on your sensitive skin.
Adrenaline and ache build as the latex of his fingers push into your entrance, pumping in and out of you. “Randal–” A moan gets caught in your throat when he speeds up slightly, angling upwards with his movements.
Randal rasped, continuing to mark your neck with bites and hickeys, “No-no, pet, you know my name.”
You do, “Master, please, m-more!” It’s shameless, and it’s aloof to how upset you were earlier. Now, you burn for more, bucking onto the length of his fingers.
You couldn't help but surrender to the overwhelming emotions – the hold he had over you was a force you couldn't deny, and certainly not control. There isn't anything holding you back from this. Not Satoru, not Sebastian, not even yourself.
Randal’s mouth hovers over yours, words tracing quivering lips, “That's right,” He grinds his erection against the tender flesh of your front, “ah–, let me hear those pretty noises!”
His touch only accentuates the pure excitement washes over the both of you, neither being able to remove sweaty hands off one another.
Randal pins you further, hiking your legs up around his waist. His exposed cock rubs against your slick and pleading heat, relishing in the intoxicating shudder of your body.
Your head rests on his shoulder, mouth agape as fingers tug at his hair, “S-Stop teasing!”
You wrap your legs around him tighter in any attempt to heighten the friction, and Randal responds by gripping the bottom of your ass harder, “So needy, aren't you? Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Can’t– ah, can’t handle not being the center of my attention? So jelly!”
An onslaught of groans fill the room, sputtering and begging for more. Randal grins against your neck, “Hah, how about you show me how much you need me?”
Randal then puts you down and pulls away, ignoring your whines about the wait. He shuts you up by motioning you to where he now sits, legs spread with his cock erect in his lap.
Sweaty gloves hold onto your waist as you eagerly hover over his lap, “Can I? Can I, master, please?” Randal gives you a dopey smile, leaning to kiss your cheek, “I love it when you beg!” You groan and rut against him impatiently, “Oh, oh, yeah – get to it, pet.”
He’s right, you are incredibly needy. Despite all the sass and complaints, you truly can't help but rut into him.
For now, you’ve completely given up any resentment towards Randal, instead relishing in the awaited pleasure he's giving you. A choir of slapping skin, moans, and praise cascade on the walls with pure want and need behind them.
Your eyes never leave his, with Randal out right refusing to blink. He lays out under you, red spreads across his face, whether it blush or blood. His skin also glistens with sweat, downright uncomfortably sticky for any normal person.
You aren't that type of person though, you're better than Satoru or Sebastian, or any other person he can waste his attention on.
You want him to want you, like how you do him. Truly, you’ll take everything he gives and only ask for more.
Randal’s fingers start to dig into your hips, but he's nice enough to let you keep your own pace, encouraging your incredibly desperate movements.
“Good pet,” His fingers dig even deeper, his own hips thrusting fervently against yours, “show me how much you want this.” His eyes never leave your body, admiring the way you bounce and quiver.
Randal finds it addicting and oh-so adorable how he can completely make you come undone around him. He thinks himself kind for letting yourself prove how much you love him, but there really wasn't anything to worry about in truth.
He knows you’re so loyal, constantly aching just for him. But he still saw those sideways glances, how your mouth would pout, and the muttering between you and Sebastian.
Your pettiness, though annoying, was because you missed your cute master… enough that you confided in Sebastian, leaving him out in turn.
He can admit he got a bit caught up during his time with Satoru, but he's thankful now that he's reminded that nothing compares to how you surrender yourself to him. Randal knows you are his. He’ll make sure to show you time and time again.
Randal arches and humps into you, licking his upper lip to taste the blood that rests on it. Your own grip lies on his hips in an attempt to keep balance, the pace becoming feverish and hard to keep up.
You croak out, feeling the knot in your abdomen grow tighter and tighter, “I think–” Randal eagerly nods, the twitch of his cock evident.
Your thighs quake, loud moans echoing off the vintage wallpaper of the room, orgasm ripping through you. Randal pushes his fingers into your hips one last time and follows suit, writhing under you.
Immediately, you allow yourself to rise a bit and lay on top of the young man, feeling how his rapidly breathing lungs press against your own.
With labored breath, you choke out, “Can you… just spend more nights with me?” It's shy compared to the actions seconds earlier, but you still hold onto Randal’s form with that same desire.
Randal laughs, slapping your bare ass cheekily, “If you wanted my attention,” He licks your earlobe, a hand resting on your waist, “You could’a just asked, doll.”
You huff but still lean into his touch, pausing for a second before asking another question,
“...Do you think Sebastian heard us?”
“One grillion precent.”
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Things I am still curious about/clamoring for as we keep going with Wandee Goodday in no particular order:
(some things we know will happen, others are mere speculation or what I personally want to see)
-Finding out what happened to Dee's parents. And does it have to do with his flashback he had on the crosswalk? If not, what is that about?
-Finding out what exactly happened to Yak's mother. Is there hinting that Dee's family had an accident related to Yak's mom's death - maybe, maybe not -there were emergency sirens but that could be from heart attack or other acute emergencies - there was no sign of external injuries during that scene, but anyone who watches dramas knows that these kind of coincidences are common to set up conflict
-Getting to know the deal with Yak's father (and step-mother, who is in MDL credits)?
-Finding out who Luke is playing?? I can't even fathom at this point.
-MEETING KAO'S LOVE INTEREST (I will not ask if there will be one and will flip tables if he doesn't get one.) I will die laughing if it is Luke because that seems so weird to me, but shows have surprised me before. Still rooting for you, rando handsome bodyguard.
-More grandma time. We are getting to see her next episode and she needs to hang around more. I want her to become Yak's cool grandma too, no question.
-Taem helping Yak face his feelings. I think Yak already knows pretty well, but I think he thinks Dee doesn't return them so he's better off trying with Taem, which if true, is a little funny because Taem is the one who has clearly given Yak an answer. But that means his whole scheme is pretty safe, actually. He says he doesn't want to risk losing her but he already knows he won't. Dee on the other hand...
-I would specifically love to see Yak confess to Taem and come to fully understand in the process how he doesn't feel for Taem anymore the way he feels for Dee.
-I can't wait for the Thai travel ad episode where Cher and Yei get to go on a couple date with Yak and Dee. Just more Cher and Yei in general, kthanks, show
-I am seated for the moment when Yak realizes that Ter is going after Dee and gets pissed. Yak is one who is so calm that him getting truly angry is something to look forward to with interest. This Yak seems very different from pilot trailer Yak in that regard and I want to see if that holds up. I'd like a little Yak jealousy, but mostly I want to see Yak standing up for Dee because based on how he is characterized I think his biggest problem is going to be that Ter still seems to be jerking Dee around and Yak won't have it.
-I want to know if Dr. Kwan realizes that Ter is a lost cause and steps away? I keep trying to understand what purpose she serves besides being one of only a few significant female characters. She made Ter's claim he liked women seem more plausible for a few episodes, but I hope she gets to have more agency.
-I want to see Dee going to cheer for Yak at the ringside so badly. Bonus, Dee braiding Yak's hair (or unbraiding) or some wound care. There may have been some foreshadowing of Yak getting more seriously injured like a concussion - they talked about the risks of him going up a weight class and I was like hrm.
-I will be so happy to see Dee going to Yak's graduation. The pilot trailer hammers on Yak not wanting to be a boxer. There's signs that is still a thread in the drama. I think we'll find out more what Yak really wants for his future. I'd love to get more of that in detail and not a broad brush.
We have far to go, but putting this all out there makes me hope that they will do these plot points some justice instead of taking some random turns that are out of character. I'm so interested to see how all these stories unfold.
I will continue to be mulling this so any other speculations, hopes or observations are more than welcome. :)
#wandee goodday#spoilers? maybe?#references to the pilot trailer and other scenes that we have not seen in drama yet I guess#this was all swirling in my brain and I had to get it out
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His Move
1557 Words / Prompt: Manipulate
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Mary was an assassin, the business of her past never quite behind her. She’d run away once, and Sherlock had insisted they go after her. At that point, John was willing to let her go. They were never going to have the future he’d imagined when he bought her that ring.
She was already dying when he arrived at the aquarium, and said the things you would expect a loving wife to say. You were my whole world.
He felt a dull sense of relief, and hated himself for it. The problems of your future are my privilege.
A future, cut short. And still, her problems would haunt him.
When Sherlock reached out his hand towards John, his eyes wide, John saw the horror-stricken expression on his face..
You were my whole world, he thought.
Her body was lifted, put on a stretcher, and carried out. John followed.
Sherlock texts him: I’m so sorry. SH
John doesn’t reply.
Please talk to me, John. SH
He feeds Rosie, gives her a bath, puts her to bed. She fusses; she’s old enough to sense something is wrong. Now she has only her father to keep her world stable.
John, please. SH
He plans the funeral; there’s no one else. Mary has no family, only a few friends. It’s his responsibility. This keeps him busy, gives him space to work out what comes next.
Sherlock is actually sorry. This John doesn’t doubt. He’s not a sociopath, regardless of what he says.
John’s words at the aquarium were spoken in anger; he doesn’t blame Sherlock for Mary’s death. John is the one who brought her into their orbit. He can’t change that, but sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if Sherlock had returned six months sooner. Of course he would have been angry, and would have expressed how he felt about watching his best friend die, being abandoned for two years. Six months earlier, maybe he wouldn’t have paid attention to the new nurse, the one who kept flirting with him.
He has no doubt that he would have come back to Baker Street if Sherlock wanted him. The compromise, as always, would have been on John’s part. Sherlock is never going to change. He will always treat John as a convenience, a habit that doesn’t require thought.
Sherlock is rarely solicitous, never bestows compliments, only flatters someone if he’s being manipulative. The speech he gave at the wedding nearly knocked John over. Maybe Sherlock was only trying to do what was expected of him, but it was unexpectedly touching.
Sitting there, hearing the two people who love you most, he’d had this thought: I would have waited for you, if I’d known.
In his own way, Sherlock does love John. He also knows how to manipulate John, to get him to do what he wants. To keep John in the dark when he doesn’t trust him.
Loving Sherlock has always meant giving something up. It means following him into danger. John isn’t sure he can afford that any longer, not with a child to care for.
He has to be sure.
It doesn’t surprise John to see Sherlock at the funeral. Mrs Hudson sits with him, and Lestrade joins them. Molly slides into the pew, whispers something to Greg. It’s a protective entourage; they all know what John said.
Harry is home, watching Rosie. John sits alone, in the front row.
Sherlock has texted him daily, and John hasn’t replied. That’s why Sherlock is here. He wants John to accept his apology, for everything to be as it was before he ruined it all by dying. Not that Sherlock understands it this way; he doesn’t think that dying ruined things. He’s convinced that he had to do it, that John would have died if he hadn’t. In his mind, there was no alternative.
Maybe he’s right, but for two years, John carried the weight of grief. That’s just feelings, sentiment; Sherlock wan’t dead; he was saving John, saving the world, winning the game. He left John behind, let him grieve, because that was the only way to solve what happened at Barts that day.
Sherlock will still leave John behind at crime scenes, run heedlessly into danger, and probably get wounded at some point. He will question John’s intelligence, talk to John when he’s miles away, text him impatiently while he’s treating patients. He will dismiss John’s concerns as frivolous, insist that sentiment makes him weak. He will break John’s heart again and again. That’s just the reality.
And John could break his heart, too. He has a temper, and letting go of anger is hard. Will that anger still be simmering in a year, two years? It’s hard for him to forgive; even in death, he hasn’t really forgiven Mary.
Can he say he forgives Sherlock and really mean it?
John prayed for a miracle, and hit the ghost when he returned. Sherlock didn’t hit back; he made a joke. He missed the point.
But he pulled John out of a bonfire. His look of panic is something John won’t ever forget.
He tricked John into forgiving him—but has also tried to be worthy of that forgiveness.
He has expressed his love for John in front of a hundred people.
These are not the acts of a heartless man.
Sherlock needs him. Maybe two years away was as hard for him as it was for John.
Does John need him?
He imagines a life without Sherlock. He weighs it against a life without Mary. One is possible, one is past.
His wife was a master manipulator. He’s only beginning to realise the extent of that. He’d had doubts, but couldn’t put words to them until he was in Leinster Gardens, hearing her admit that she’d shot Sherlock, that she would do anything to keep John in the dark about who she really was.
The woman he fell in love with saved him from despair.
The woman he’d married was a facade.
He never forgave the woman who shot Sherlock.
The woman he went back to gave him his daughter.
So. Mary’s gone, and what he feels about that is a confusing mixture of guilt and sorrow—and relief. At some point, he loved her. Or the idea of her. He chose her.
She made choices as well. She chose death, rather than allowing Sherlock to take that bullet. When John came back to her, she understood that he would never completely forgive her, that he was doing it for Rosie. She’d chosen to save Sherlock, to die rather than live with John’s grief over losing him a second time.
Sherlock didn’t kill her. She chose to die.
But when he stood at her grave, he didn’t ask her not to be dead.
What he wishes now is that they’d never met, that he could rewind time and make a different choice. That she was still alive, a stranger living somewhere else.
But then he wouldn’t have Rosie. He loves his daughter completely, protectively, without rhyme or reason. He wants the best life for her, the carefree childhood he never had. And he imagines her growing up without a mother—with a father who has chosen to be alone.
He pictures her, a child with pigtails and a stubborn streak. A teenager able to go toe-to-toe with her father and still see reason, take a small step back when she’s wrong. A young woman with curly blond hair and a teasing smile. She leaves for uni, and he’s alone again. He grows old, and remembers.
Does he need Sherlock?
Absolutely, desperately. Like air.
Can he trust Sherlock?
Probably not. And he won’t change him.
He misses Sherlock. Whatever they have been to one another, his heart wants him.
Is it worth the risk?
He’s standing in the church reception hall, drinking a cup of terrible coffee. Sherlock is across the room, looking at him. His expression is sorrowful, not the fake sorrow he can put on during a case, pretending he cares. His hands are stuffed in his coat pockets and he’s slouching against the wall, watching John.
Coworkers from the surgery express their condolences. Mrs Hudson hugs him tearfully. Lestrade tells him they need to get together over a pint. He accepts their sympathy, makes small talk because that’s what people do. All the while, he feels Sherlock’s eyes like a magnet, pulling on him.
As the hall begins to empty out, he can resist the pull no longer. Sherlock looks up, surprised, as John walks towards him. His pale eyes fill with tears.
John has given up so much already. He doesn’t blame anyone but himself. Maybe he’ll never fully trust Sherlock, but he’s already forgiven him.
Setting aside all his objections, laying down his anger and his regret, he surrenders.
When he pulls Sherlock into the hug he’s always wanted, this time Sherlock hugs back. John makes deductions. He can smell a cigarette, maybe two (nervous). He feels his ribs, still too prominent (unhappy). He’s trembling with the emotion he hates (love). The world may have lost a fine actor when Sherlock Holmes became a consulting detective, but this is not acting.
“Please come home,” Sherlock whispers.
John smiles into his shoulder, his own tears beginning. “Oh God, yes.”
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Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 13
Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)
Masterlist
“They have a sex tape.”
“They have what?”
“A sex tape” Mason repeated.
“Yours?”
“Obviously” he laughed.
“I’m sorry, I… I… How? When?” Adele asked.
“Why don’t we sit down and I explain everything?”
“Yes, sure.”
“Ok” Mason said, taking a deep breath. “Where should I begin?”
“From the beginning?” she chuckled.
“Yes, of course. It was… it happened during my 21st birthday. I don’t know if you remember, but I was working in the US. I had spent some time in New York, and for my birthday I was in Los Angeles.”
“Oh, I do. I remember seeing all the photos on Instagram while laying on my couch feeling like shit because of a cold. You sent me chocolate macaroons to make me feel better.”
“I wish I had been taking care of you and eating them instead of… Anyway” he sighed. “My friends threw a big party to celebrate because 21 is a big number in the US since you are finally allowed to legally drink and all that, and they invited many people, most of them girls. By the end of the night I was very drunk, and I’m pretty sure I had hooked up with a few girls already. But then, I saw her. She was stunning, and when she came to talk to me, I just couldn’t say no. She was… hypnotizing. Hypnotizing and a bitch” Mason chuckled. “Instead of going to one of the rooms of the house where we were throwing the party, she took me to her hotel room. I think she said she was visiting from Florida, I can’t remember. And then… well, you can imagine what we did. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. She had only left a note behind saying that I should pay for her room before leaving if I didn't want to get in trouble.”
“Oh, how nice.”
“Yeah… A couple of weeks later, my agency called me. Someone was trying to sell some compromising photos from my birthday. They were just me being very drunk, nothing that you hadn’t seen before, but I had just gotten my first big contract, was starting to make a name for myself and being recognized because of me and not because I was Toni Mount’s son, and they didn’t want them to jeopardize everything we had been working so hard for.”
“Look at them being nice for once…” Adele said. “How did they get the video?”
“Whoever was trying to sell the photos wasn’t happy that we had managed to stop them, so they tried with something more juicy. My agency had to ask for many favours and pay a good amount of money to stop the press from publishing it.”
“That juicy is it? Wait, sorry, I…” Adele said, feeling her cheeks burning.
“You can see me completely naked while she gives me… and then she…”
“I can imagine, there is no need to get into details” she interrupted him, her face about to burst into flames. “So your agency paid for the video?”
“Yes.”
“Do they know who was trying to sell it? Was it her?”
“It was her, that bitch had planned it all. Somehow she had found out that there would be famous people at the party and went looking for a victim who would allow her to earn some easy money and maybe become famous. When she took me to the hotel, the camera was already there, ready to film everything we were about to do. I was so stupid…”
“Mason, it wasn’t your fault. How could you have known it was all a trap? Besides, you were drunk. You are lucky you remember all the details you do.”
“I know but… Anyway. That’s what my agency has against me. They say I owe them. Big time. And if I don’t do as they ask, they will release that video and the photos and end my career.”
“That’s blackmail, Mason. You could report that to the police.”
“And the moment they find out, they will release the video and everything will be over” he sighed, letting himself fall on the bed.
“You don’t know that, Mase. People these days are very aware of what a video like that means. It is a violation of your intimacy. I’m sure your fans would do everything in their power so it doesn’t get shared everywhere, it has happened before. You are so lucky you are a man…”
“But what about the brands I work with? About the designers? What will they think?”
“If a sex tape makes them stop working with you when they keep doing it with people who have done worse, it probably is for the best” Adele shrugged.
“And you? What about you?” Mason asked, sitting up again.
“What about me?”
“What do you think about me?”
“Can I be completely honest?”
“Please” he said.
“I think you are an idiot.”
“What?”
“Not because of the video. Again, that isn’t your fault, you are the victim here. Double victim if we add what your agency is doing. You are an idiot because you thought I would look at you differently or stop caring about you because of it.”
“But Addie… It’s a sex tape.”
“And?” she laughed.
“Aren't you like… shocked? Scandalized? Outraged?"
"The only thing I am is angry at that bitch and at your agency. She used you and filmed you without your consent, and they are blackmailing you."
"So if I had known she was filming and had agreed to it… you would not mind?"
“Can I confess something?” Adele said, biting her lower lip.
“It can’t be worse than what I just confessed” he chuckled.
“Remember Ben, my last ex?”
“I do. Why?”
“Well… We liked to take photos or film ourselves from time to time to spice things up.”
“Adele Antonia Turlington!” Mason laughed.
“You can’t tell anyone. Anyone, you hear me?”
“I won’t, I won’t. But wow. I didn’t expect that from you” he chuckled.
“I’m full of surprises“ she smiled, still not believing she had confessed something like that to Mason. “And here is another one… I will walk that red carpet with you.”
“Wait, what? Are you sure?”
“No, not really. But until we find a way to get rid of your agency, I’m gonna do everything in my power to help you and protect you. And if that means posing in front of a bunch of photographers, then so be it.”
“Addie, I… I don’t know what to say.”
“A thank you will be enough for now.”
“Ok, thank you” he smiled. And this time, it was one of his smiles, one of those that was all dimples. “I love you, Addie.”
“I love you too, Mase” she said as she hugged him, trying not to think too much about the three words they had just said to each other.
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angst with robin w/ minor smut?
Reader and Steve are dating but Robin and Reader have been sneaking behind Steve’s back and hooking up. after one of their hook-up sessions, Robin begs the reader to just call things off with steve and be with her but reader refuses because she wasn’t ready to be in a full on relationship with a women yet with it being the 80’s and everything so the reader calls it off but since robin and steve are still close she still has to see/hear steve and reader do couple things together.
it’s totally okay of you don’t end up writing this but still thanks for your time!! xxx
Oh, my poor Rob. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting
The she and he's
Robin felt like the worst best friend in the world. The second Steve found a girl who really liked him, she fell for her. Y/N walked into both of their lives and flipped them upside down.
Steve, who already was a sucker for love, was swept off his feet after one conversation. He couldn't remember any words from it, but he remembered her smile, laugh, and how heavenly her voice sounded. He fell in love at first glance.
But so did Robin.
Robin knew Y/N and Steve had this instant connection and she was jealous. She was so envious of Steve that she felt like she hated him, just a little bit. She hated how easy it was for him to tell a girl he liked her, not so easy for Robin. She would have to risk the whole town turning on her if she ever admitted to liking a girl. So Robin had to sit back and watch Y/N fall in love with Steve.
But when the opportunity came up to get a tiny taste of Y/N for herself, she wasn't strong enough to say no. Both girls were drunk, Steve went to the bathroom, and they were giggling. Then someone leaned in and they kissed. They pulled away and both felt guilty. Their plan was to not tell Steve and to never let it happen again.
They kept one of those promises
~~~
That's how Robin found herself against the bed and Y/N fingering her into bliss.
Robin whimpered as her manicured hands gripped the sheets.
Steve was going to be here any minute and Robin tried to care, but she had Y/N's attention and she wanted to keep it.
Her orgasm was close as she stole Y/N in for a kiss. Both girls moaned as Y/N deepened the kiss with her tongue.
"So wet, Rob," Y/N teased when she pulled away. A huge smirk on her face as she fucked Robin faster. Robin's wet cunt echoed throughout Y/N's room, she thought about how many times Steve was pleasured on the same bed.
"GIRLS! DADDY'S HOME!" Steve laughed to himself as he entered.
Robin's eyes went huge as she panicked
Y/N just placed a finger over her lips, telling Robin to stay quiet. Y/N didn't remove her fingers though, continuing to push Robin over the edge.
Robin grew nervous as she heard Steve's footsteps coming up the stairs.
"WE ARE COMING! CAN YOU START THE OVEN?" Y/N yelled back
Robin felt her eyes roll in the back of her head when Y/N attached her lips to Robin's clit. Steve's heavy footsteps disappeared.
"Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me,"
~
Y/N and Robin walked into the kitchen, Steve was prepping dinner as the stove warmed up.
"So sexy seeing you cook," Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around Steve's body. Her palms flat against his chest as she moved them up and down.
Steve shuddered under her touch. "Thank you," he said, turning around in her arms. She moved her hands to be wrapped around his neck and he slid his hands around her waist.
They shared a smile before they met their lips in a kiss.
Robin felt her eyes burn as she watched the two share a kiss, so lost in their own little world. She distracted herself as she grabbed a drink from the fridge.
The oven beeped and Robin was relieved that the couple departed. Steve went back to focusing on dinner and Y/N sat on the counter next to him.
Robin wanted to believe that Y/N didn't love him. But Robin knew she did. It was in her eyes and in the way she talked about him. But maybe she loved Robin too. Maybe she was just stuck in a triangle and loved the boy and the girl. Loving the boy was easier.
~
Dinner felt like it lasted centuries for Robin. She fought back tears as the couple cleaned the dishes together. The way Steve blew soap and the bubbles popped on Y/N's face. Instead of being annoyed, she giggled and did it back. Then they shared a soapy kiss. It made Robin sick.
Then the night came to an end and Robin could breathe again as Steve left.
Robin twiddled with her thumbs as she asked Y/N to talk.
"What's up?" Y/N asked, sitting on the couch next to Robin, her body turned to face her.
"Do you love him?" Robin asked, her eyes staring into Y/N's. Y/N worried about where this conversation was going to lead. But she figured after months of sneaking around, it was going to happen.
"Of course I do," Y/N sighed. And she meant it. She felt guilty every single time she got caught up with Robin. But her heart was split into two and a piece was gifted to both of them. She wished she didn't, she wished she could just love Steve and nothing would have to be difficult.
"Do you love me?" Robin asked, she gulped as she waited for the answer. She was scared to know but also scared to leave it as a what-if.
"I think I do," Y/N confessed. "I believe if I didn't, that I wouldn't be sneaking behind his back. I wouldn't have felt anything when we kissed and we wouldn't be doing what we are. I would have walked away the first time."
Robin felt her heart race at the idea of Y/N being in love with her. But deep down she feared that wasn't going to be enough.
"Do you ever wish you weren't with him?" Robin asked, she began to pick at her nails.
"what are you trying to ask me?" Y/N snapped
"If you'd pick me over him," Robin said, she stood up and began pacing. "I love you and I know if we ever got together, it would destroy everything. It would kill Steve and put a target on our backs. But isn't that what love is? Full of challenges and sacrifices? There isn't anything that would stop me from being with you."
"Robin," Y/N sighed. "I told you in the beginning that I wasn't going to leave him."
"I know, but has your mind changed at least a little?" Robin asked
"No, it hasn't. Because I love him, Robin. And I'm sorry that I do. But I'm not going to leave him."
"How can you say you love him when you are going behind his back?" Robin snapped
"Don't do this," Y/N said as she stood up. "Don't go down that road because we will never come back from it." She growled. "Plus you aren't any better. You are his best friend!"
Robin knew she had a point. She bit her cheek as she wrapped her brain in an argument. She felt guilty for going behind her best friend's back. To make it worse, Robin knew Steve really loved Y/N.
"So after all those months of kissing, sex, and late nights meant nothing?" Robin asked, her voice cracking as she tried to keep herself together.
"Of course it meant something. But mean enough to lose what I have with Steve? No."
"It's him no matter what?" Robin concluded
"It's easier to love him, Rob." Y/N sighed. "I want to be married and have kids. He can give me that, but you can't."
"Then what do we do?"
"End it," Y/N said
She was met with silence as Robin slammed the door on her way out.
~~~
Robin and Y/N kept their promise to not tell Steve and to only be friends.
Y/N had it easy, she had a boyfriend to distract her from the absence of Robin
Robin didn't get a break. If she hung out with Steve, all he talked about was Y/N and their relationship. But as his best friend, she listened. Even though listening to all the dates and how happy they made each other killed her slowly.
~~~
"I'm thinking of taking her on a road trip to the beach. Lay in the sand with my hot girlfriend next to me. What's better than that?" Steve gushed
Robin gave a fake smile as she worked on stocking the shelves. She cursed her heart for feeling the sting.
"Absolutely nothing," Robin said
~
"Steve!"
Robin turned as she heard the sound of Y/N's excited voice.
Y/N ran straight for the counter, pulling Steve in for a sweet kiss. Robin turned away, keeping her focus on random customers.
"Hi Robin," she said with a smile
Robin smiled back and gave a small wave.
Their friendship was awkward but they had to make it seem no different so Steve wasn't suspicious.
"Ready for the beach?" Y/N asked.
"Yes, Eddie is in the back clocking in so I'm set," Steve said
Y/N watched as he unbuttoned his vest and shoved it under the counter. His hairy chest peeked through his button-up. Y/N felt her face growing warm.
"I can't wait to see that body shirtless." Y/N teased, Steve winked and drew her in for a slow kiss.
Robin felt like the kiss went on for hours. Steve's hands on her waist and her arms wrapped around his body. Finally, they pulled away, a love-sick puppy look in their eyes as they headed off.
Everything about her made Robin bleed.
She knew she'd hear all about the beach date when she got off the clock.
She took a deep breath and let herself have a pity party up until he called. Then she put on her best friend's smile and answered the phone.
"Want to hear about our date?" Steve's excited voice rang through the phone. Robin picked at her nails as she closed her eyes.
Through clenched teeth and a broken heart, she said, "Tell me everything."
#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley angst#robin buckley x reader fluff#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley#steve stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x female reader#ashwhowrites#robin buckley requests#steve harrington x reader angst
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So it's basic knowledge in beekeeping that as little as fifty years ago you could basically set up your hives, check them maybe twice and add supers for the hive to expand, and then harvest in the fall, rinse and repeat. And now it's a pretty highly skilled occupation, with checks at least every month, more during critical times, multiple different pest treatments, careful management of hive layout, and sometimes you lose an entire hive anyway. And by sometimes I mean, statistically, as much as half the time. Because of introduced diseases and pests, pesticides, habitat reduction, varroa mites but really varroa mites plus all the different strains.
And lately I've been thinking about that as applied to gardening. It's not an exact metaphor, because of course the honey bees themselves are an introduced species in my country. But the basic problem is the same--instead of just having one place's problems, now we have a grand panoply of all the problems the world has come up with to date.
I hope it goes without saying that the last 100 years have seen incredible improvements in agriculture in some ways. Modern fertilizers have been seen by the world as a miracle, and despite their drawbacks they are very valuable tools. Likewise farm automation and machinery has relieved hundreds of thousands of people of backbreaking drudgery and genuinely dangerous jobs. I think most here already realize that all that has come at a cost (insert XKCD geochemists comic here maybe), but that's really not what I'm talking about.
I'm just talking about plain ol gardening. Hand dug and hand planted, and yeah you can afford more tools than your ancestors ever did, and that bag of specially formulated rose fertilizer, and maybe a rototiller. And I do love my silly tool collection.
But I spend so so much of my gardening time pulling invasive weeds--indeed, nearly all my weeds are non-native--and so much of my time trying to compensate for the climate-change driven change of weather patterns. For heat extremes I would never have had to deal with here 75 years ago. I'd be far less likely a hundred years ago to find myself trying to plant foundation plantings in raw fucking subsoil used as fill dirt when the house was built. And the insects! Japanese beetle, emerald ash borer, spotted lanternfly, brown marmorated stink bug, dear sweet fuck. Not to mention the tree diseases! And I just think...what if I only had the problems that started here? Wouldn't that be something?
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