#sure ur busy with ur own plot or whatever
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what if I took some of my regular ocs and turned them into aftg ocs. What Then
#if I were to hypothetically#I don’t think I have any ravens#ares would be a Raven maybe but would leave p quickly if he could#Bella is also likely to be a Raven but would follow ares#Ethan is best suited as a fox but has the strict-religion trauma that would find him stuck in a cult and conflicted about it#toby matty lyra and lukas would be trojans#pax is a fox but destined for court#there’s a few more bouncing around that have potential#I’ve had these people in their own worlds for so long but now I’m like okay#sure ur busy with ur own plot or whatever#but what if I made u play exy??? what then??#stupid rambles#because lord knows I will never really write their stories as much as I try and try and try#might just copy and paste their personality onto new dudes#and pretend they’re different people
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Can I request headcanons of Hobie Brown reacting to his gn s/o being startled when he kisses them whether it's on the lips or even on the cheek or forehead? Not only do they never kiss anyone because they never dated anyone before him, the slightly cold feeling of his lip piercing surprises them! Does this makes sense XD *Cough* totally not me about his lip piercing * Cough*
hobie notices how startled you get when he kisses you (gn!)
hobie brown x gn! reader
established relationship
hello i’m here to be ur bad influence, get a lip piercing if u want one, become the hobie brown in this scenario
warnings: none
pairing: hobie brown x gn! reader
requests: open, i wont be caught lacking
it was a moment of weakness
★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧
ok so i think that we all agree on hobie being very into physical contact and touchy feely
it’s nice to have a reminder that someone’s there for you physically, things like leaning on each other of just linking a finger while walking are super significant to him cause it shows you’re not afraid of being close together, y’know ? i image that’s pretty crucial to him if he’s ever in a relationship
at the same time, if it’s not present from the start, i think he’d be more than willing to teach someone what it’s liked to be physically loved and appreciated
he doesn’t know what’s gone off in your life, if your lack of experience is due to some sort of trauma or it’s as simple as you’ve never had the chance to be close to someone in that way, he won’t hold it against you
maybe tease and taunt you a bit
he’s definitely respectful and drops topics like a pin if prompted, and will easily respect personal space if anyone ever seems a uncomfortable by his closeness
no questions asked, he’s unbothered and keeps his hands to himself
if you seem a lil peeved more than anything he’s probably a bit more persistent cause he’s a cocky bastard at times
but if you express that you wanna be close to him but just aren’t used to it, man’s all over it
not all over you though, he won’t rush you
this shit boutta be GRADUAL and LOVING
ANYWAY to the actual scenario
there’s no way you’ve managed to avoid the magnet of affection that is hobie brown, but if things like arms around your shoulder and waist, hugs and cuddles don’t bother you then he’s unsuspecting for now
but if one day you’re just chilling, doing your own thing
maybe in spider society if you hang there, perhaps at either of ur cribs
and hobie just passively walks by or maybe you two have been hanging out all day
he sees you busy, wants to remind you he’s there
gives you the quickest little muah ever on ur temple or smthn
it’s casual to him, but he sees how ur expression immediately changes to a slightly started one, mixed with whatever else you’re feeling in that moment
it crosses his mind that you two have literally never kissed which is wild, now he’s amused by this revelation and is like “what?” (whot) while scheming and plotting in his head
you have your own reaction (or lack of) and hobie’s mildly entertained depending on it
just mad flustered ? he will weaponise this
if you seem genuinely uncomfortable by it then hobie’s gonna apologise and just wait for you to bring it up again before tryna kiss you again, he’s unbothered
if you explain that it’s just the piercing that caught you off guard and how cold it was, he’s laughing
like yeah, valid
likely knows he’s your first s/o or whatever you call yourselves, but you’ll tell him again that he’s your first
grins at all the innuendos he could make but voices none of them
you’re fine with it ? the coldness just caught you off guard ?
cue him wrapping both of his lanky ass arms tightly around your shoulders and just smothering the side of your face in kisses, really making sure that his cool lip piercing is making contact each time
he loves to be a fucking nuisance
irrelevant but i think hobie has a tongue piercing, anyway
even if you eventually get used to kisses, he still loves to see your reaction to the sudden freezing cold piercing
especially in the mornings, cackles when he watches you try to withdraw from him in the morning because of how cold his piercings are
imagine what it’s like when he fuckin nuzzles his face into you
two eyebrow piercings, one nose ring, lip ring- personally i would cease to a exist if i’m in that groggy state and that cold ass metal even grazes me, i’m gone and never coming back
he’ll sometimes kiss you just for your reactions, you aren’t safe
easily his favourite spot is the neck, imagine putting on a freezing cold necklace
yeah, it feels like that when he kisses you a certain way
in conclusion, your reactions enable him, please stop
★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧
#across the spiderverse#headcanon#spider man: across the spider verse#hobie brown#hobie spiderverse#atsv hobie#imagine#oneshot#ask#hobie brown x gn!reader#hobie brown x reader#spider punk#hobie x reader
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do u have any advice for those that want to run a quest?
it feels a LEETLE silly answering this when all my own are currently on hiatus bc i got busy (SORRY TO CALLIST0 READERS LOL) BUT!!! yes i do. i have only ever run quests/interactive comics on the site questden, so i guess as a baseline this will kind of all be geared towards that, but i think most of this should translate to any hosting situation
you have to be cool with your plots branching and mutating in unexpected ways, and you have to be willing to play ball with your readers.
quests are a collaboration between the author and the audience. it often feels a lot like gming a tabletop campaign (and that's the origin!! questden, specifically, was originally an offshoot of /tg/.) -- we've all had or heard about bad GMs who view their position as that of a narrative dictator who exists to punish and prod a captive group of players thru their own personal novel, but a good GM is interested in telling stories as a group. u have final say and have to stay true to the important stuff abt ur story, but if u get mad or frustrated when ur readers want to explore something "off topic" or aren't following the threads of ur narrative the way u expected them to, u don't actually want to run a quest, u just want to make a webcomic w mandatory comments. (the flip side of this is: consider if the story u want to make is the right one for an interactive quest. if it is REALLY important to u that the plot beats of a story go a certain way, maybe save it for a medium where u have more control!)
keep it loose and fast. the art does not matter.
i am rly guilty of not following this one, but i still think it's really important! one of the things i like best about quests is the barrier to entry is very low and you SHOULD be able to start and maintain one very quickly. if i were better at keeping my art scrabbly and sketchy and loose, my stuff would not go on hiatus as often as it does. draw fast! it's NICE if the art is gorgeous to look at and definitely will draw readers, but it's way better if the art is simple enough that you can update frequently and without much stress. the quality of ur writing + character building, and whether u are telling a story that's engaging and that ur readers feel meaningfully involved in, is 100000x more important than the art.
on the more nitty gritty side: try to have a hook in each update.
one of the most common reasons suggestions die off is readers being unsure of what they're supposed to do next. sure, too much spoonfeeding could end up feeling like railroading, and you don't have to end every single update by getting right in their faces and yelling "WHAT DO YOU DO NEXT??", but when you finish an update try to take a second to put yourself in a reader's shoes and see if there's an obvious next step. is there a course of action to decide on/debate, are there clear questions they can ask an npc, etc -- i can't think of a great way to describe it, but you want to avoid ending an update on a note where the player character and readers are basically sitting there looking at each other like "um... okay. that's that, then." some ppl even just end all their updates w multiple choice options, which is a super simple way to keep things moving if it fits the style of what ur doing. if you don't want it to be that overt but you still can't think of a way for there to be a clear hook, you can at least try to leave a little nudge in the narration that invites the readers to try to tie whatever they've just done/learned back into the pc's main goals/motivations or current tasks. (on this subject, VERY useful for your main character to have a very specific goal or end destination that everyone is on the same page abt. it's harder for your plot to lose momentum if you can always point at what your readers are supposed to be moving toward!)
finally: KEEP UPDATING EVEN IF YOU GET VERY FEW/NO SUGGESTIONS.
it's a niche genre. questden is a small website. it's hard to get people to read something new, especially if it's in a new and unfamiliar format (and especially especially when it's on a website that looks like a chanboard lmao). picking up readers takes a long time, and a lot of people lurk without suggesting (ESPECIALLY if it's a difficult/plot-important decision, and also especially in the opposite, if it's a very obvious next step and someone else has already commented what most ppl would say). it's very tempting to want to wait for more suggestions bc u "only" have one or two, and then that wait becomes stagnation, and then you're frustrated and u end up dropping the quest bc "nobody cares." instead u just have to push thru!!!!
u only have two suggestions and u wish u had more? maybe next update u'll get more. u have NO suggestions and u feel like that means ur quest is dead in the water? NOPE! the solution is to update again, bc maybe ppl with latch on more and have something to say in the next scene. the more u update ur quest, the more u'll be able to talk abt it (and maybe get more readers), and specifically in the case of questden the more ur thread will be bumped to the front page. think abt how many times you've seen ppl talking abt a webcomic or a book and thought "i need to check that out eventually...." but it takes months for you to actually do it. 99.9999% of the time, ppl need to see something MULTIPLE TIMES before they check it out!! most readers do not come from clicking something the very first time they see it!! i know it can feel lonely and discouraging, but u owe it to ur art and the stories u want to tell to keep trying, even if engagement is very low at first, otherwise you're killing it before it's even had a chance.
like, get shameless about it. ask your buddies to comment on your quest. but give that horse a few really good whacks before you decide it's dead!!
i think that's my main thoughts. if you have any more specific questions i'm happy to help if i can! but also i think you'll learn the most by just jumping in and fucking around. quests are easy to pick up and easy to drop, and imo do really well as a playground where u test different ways to draw and tell stories, so might as well just get messy.
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heyhey iwas the one who requested the minji fic and i ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT maybe i cld req a sequel where minji finally hits reader and hanni witnessed it? and hanni like pulls reader away from minji and lets her sleep in her room for the night? then u cld go on w ur own plot after that🫶🫶thank you
﹅ 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗹 (𝟮); 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗷𝗶
﹅ summary — after promising to do better in the future, minji tries her best to follow through, but old habits die hard. after being scolded by hanni for it, will you stay, or will you finally go?
﹅ content — abusive/toxic relationship, 6thmember!reader
﹅ word count — 2.4k
﹅ a/n — this was actually so fun to write for some reason. i'm going to leave it here because i love angsty cliffhangers, and i don't want to drag it out for too long
You smiled as you walked out of the bakery, bungeoppang in one hand, with Minji's arm in the other. She had taken you to a bakery after practice, offering to buy you whatever you wanted as a way to apologize for yesterday. "Which ones did you get?" She gently took the bag from your hands, opening it to peek inside.
"I got six custard and four red bean since I know Hyein doesn't really like red bean." Minji nodded, looking both ways before guiding you across the street.
"About yesterday-" You cut her off with a shake of your head, beaming up at her.
"It's fine. I forgive you." She smiled, pulling you closer to her. "But," she looked at you expectantly, giving you her undivided attention. "you can apologize to Hanni and Haerin. I'm sure they didn't appreciate you accusing them of being a homewrecker." She groaned playfully, holding the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically.
"Fine." She mumbled, looking over at you with a grin. "For you."
"For what?" Minji glared at Haerin who had a smug smile on her face.
"For accusing you of flirting with Y/N." Minji had already apologized to Hanni, who accepted her apology only after she'd checked with you to see if it was okay. Minji looked over to you, who gave her a thumbs up in return. You walked away from them and headed into your room, seeing a large bouquet laying on your bed with a note.
'i'm so so sorry for what happened yesterday. let me take you on a date?'
You turned around to see Minji in the doorway behind you, a nervous look on her face. "It's fine if you don't want to. But I want to try to mend this between us." You grinned, pulling her into your arms. It'd been weeks since you two had gone on a date, Minji always being too busy to take you out. "We have to go somewhere lowkey, like a small restaurant, if that's okay with you?" You nodded, deciding that you'd take anything you could get with her.
"That's perfect! I'll get changed now." She shook her head, reaching out to grab your arm. You flinched, instinctively pulling away from her. "Sorry," you mumbled, reaching out to take her hand.
"Don't apologize. If anything, I should be the one apologizing." She tugged you out of the room, grabbing her wallet from the counter. "We're going out!" You looked over to Hanni as she tilted her head, giving you a thumbs up as if to ask if you were okay. You nodded, smiling as you realized that it had been your first genuine response in a while. Minji guided you out onto the busy streets, taking you behind a building. You nervously looked over to her, Minji gently squeezing your hand in response.
"Don't worry, it's just a small restaurant through this alleyway." She walked you to a restaurant that had no signs in front and would've seemed like it was abandoned if not for the light peeking under the door. She walked in and we greeted the staff, sitting down at a small booth.
"I'll take the grilled beef intestines and," you paused, trailing your finger down the menu. "And the pork belly with perilla leaves to share." Minji followed with her order, bumping your shoulder with hers after the staff walked away.
"Did you hear about the perilla leaf debate?" You shook your head, taking a sip of your drink. "Okay so, your partner, or me I guess, and a friend are sitting at a table. Then, your friend has two leaves stuck together, and I reach over and help them peel them apart. Would you be jealous, or not?" You shook your head, putting down the glass of water.
"I don't think so. I mean, it wouldn't really bother me at all. You on the other hand..." You joked, Minji playfully pushing your shoulder. The food arrived shortly after and you two quietly ate, Minji's hand coming over to lovingly caress your knuckles now and then.
"We've been practicing for so long for the collab stage for the MAMA awards tomorrow, my feet are so sore. Do you remember yesterday's practice?" You nodded your head slowly, fearing the direction that this conversation was going to go in.
"Yeah, I remember. Are you excited?" She hummed, stuffing a wrap in her mouth.
"Kind of. But," she paused, looking over to you and squeezing your hand again. "I’m trying to put more trust in you. I just don't want everyone pairing you with Liz like they did last time. I get that it's not their fault. They don't know we're dating. But I can't help but feel insecure because they think you two would look better than we would." She pouted, toying with the remnants of food on her plate. You laughed, shaking your head.
"I get it, Minji. I'll make sure to interact with you more that night." You pinched her cheek, leaning over to throw away your trash. She guided you out of the booth, opening the door as you two stepped out. Right as you opened your mouth to speak, Minji's phone started ringing and she looked down to see our manager's name.
"Hold on, I'm going to take this. Go home, it's cold. I'll be right behind you." You released her arm, walking away from her with a small wave.
Wrapping your coat tighter around you, you started smiling as you thought back to Minji's behavior for the past few hours. Before this, you two would've already had a few arguments in the same time that she's spent apologizing. You continued making your way to the dorm, looking up at the building as you felt a breeze penetrate the warm layers of your coat. Maybe this is the start of something new.
You held your elbows in your palms, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Y/N, calm down,” Minji whispered to you, caressing your back.
“I can’t!” You whisper-shouted, your eyes nervously darting around the room. “It’s so many people in here!” Minji shook her head, pulling you closer to her.
“Yeah, but you know all of them, right? And despite my bias, Liz and all of IVE are here too.” You nodded, taking a deep breath and looking over to where they were standing. “Just go over there. To calm your nerves.” Your eyes widened, shaking your head.
“I can’t just go over there, Minji! It’s so crowded!” She sighed, grabbing your lower arm and dragging you over to their group.
“Wait, stop-” You were cut off by Rei looking up, and a smile spreading across her face.
“Y/N!” The rest of the girls looked up at you, guiding you into the middle of their circle. You looked back up and Minji was gone, already back and talking to Hyein.
“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Wonyoung held your hands in hers, pulling you into a hug.
“I know! And every time you come around, Liz takes up all of your time!” Leeseo whined, joining in on the hug. You pulled away, your eyes nervously darting back to Minji, only to realize that her eyes weren't on you for once.
"Y/N? Why are you looking like that?" Your head whipped around to see Liz staring at you with a concerned expression.
"Like what?" She pursed her lips, giving you a deadpan expression.
"You know. Like you're scared of Minji or something." You nervously laughed, looking down at your shoes.
"I'm not!" You rushed out, perhaps too quickly to sound natural. "She didn't want me to take too long so we could practice more, so I was just making sure time wasn't up yet." Liz looked over to Yujin, their expressions clearly telling you that they didn't believe your rambling. You stepped backward, moving in the direction of your group. "I should go now. Nice seeing you guys again!" You made a beeline towards the girls, Minji's arm coming to wrap around your shoulders when you stood beside her.
"You okay?" You nodded, relaxing into Minji's touch. They started talking about the stage again as you zoned out, feeling Minji's fingers trace circles on your arm.
"NewJeans to dressing room four!" You heard a voice boom from overhead, and you snapped back to reality, your heart starting to pound as you realized that this moment was real. You walked backstage, holding Minji's arm tight to calm your nerves.
"Relax," she whispered, running her thumb over your knuckles. You took a deep breath, following behind Haerin into the dressing room. You walked over to your changing area, quickly slipping out of your practice clothes and changing into your stage outfit.
"Eight more minutes!"
You ran over to your stylist who was beckoning you over, turning your head to the side so she could fix your hairpiece. "You'll do great, don't worry," she smiled as she fixed your skirt buckle. You felt someone come up behind you, turning your head to see Hanni holding a piece of chocolate in her fingers.
"To calm your anxiety." You took the square of chocolate from her, whispering a thank you as she went and stood at the door.
"NewJeans to center stage one!" You looked up and Minji gave you a reassuring smile, gesturing you over.
"Thank you!" Your group members shouted as you all ran through the door, darting down the halls to your place on stage. "Ready?" You nodded, taking a few deep breaths as you felt the stage begin to rise. You quickly got into position, pushing down your nervousness. You felt a genuine smile spread across your face as you heard the cheers from the crowd. You walked across the stage to stand in your place, feeling your heart start pounding as ELEVEN started playing from the speakers.
"Are you okay?" You saw Liz mouth to you from across the stage. You nodded, digging your nails into your palm when the music switched to WA DA DA.
"You'll do good." Minji lightly pushed you forward into your place beside Haewon.
You smiled at the camera as your part ended, rushing from the center stage as the award show ended. "You did so good!" You turned to see Liz standing beside you.
"I did? I think I was too nervous." She scoffed, playfully pushing you away. While she began showering you in praise for your performance, the cameraman turned his sights towards your interactions. Liz looked up and pointed at the camera, grabbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You froze for a moment before remembering that you were on camera. Pushing your fear of Minji to the back of your mind, you teasingly bumped her shoulder, covering your cheeks.
She's getting better, so this'll be fine, right?
"Y/N, what the fuck?" You jumped back from the sink, almost hitting your head on the faucet.
"What?" Minji shoved her phone in your line of sight, the video on the screen becoming a blur from how close it was. You lightly pushed the phone away, your vision focusing on the video from the stage earlier. "Oh! We were just playing around." Minji turned off the water, taking a step closer to you.
"This isn't playing, bro. You were clearly flirting with her! I mean, look at the comments!" She read a few comments to you as you zoned out. "You're not even listening!" You looked up at her, fumbling your words as you tried to find the right thing to say. You'd never seen her this angry before.
"No, it's not like that! It was just for the camera!"
"How many times are you going to say that?" She stepped closer to you as you clutched your face towel in your arms as if it'd protect you. "It's not like that," she mocked you, ripping the towel from your hands. "You have one more chance to explain this shit to me."
"Jiwon..." You trailed off as you saw her eyes widen, a humorless laugh slipping through her lips.
"Jiwon?" She shook her head, turning to walk out of the bathroom. Like something was telling her to turn around, she turned around and grabbed you by the hair, pulling you closer to her. "Since when do you call her Jiwon?"
"Get off of her!" You felt Minji being pulled away from you, looking up to see Hanni standing in the doorway with her mouth open in shock. "I knew she yelled at you sometimes, but I never knew she'd do something like this." Hanni shook her head, pushing past Minji to grab your arm. "The respect I once had for you has gone," she spat, dragging you out of the bathroom.
"Hanni, I'm okay, I promise." She silently walked you into her room, slamming the door closed.
"Do you think I'm buying that anymore?" She turned the lock, beginning to pace around the room. "I tried so hard to ignore the yelling because I know how much you love her. But this is unacceptable, Y/N? How long are you going to let this go on? You know it's only going to get worse right?" You nodded, hanging your head in shame.
"I'm sorry." She sighed, walking over to you to pull you into a hug.
"I'm not mad. You have nothing to apologize for. But I don't wanna see you get hurt again." She stood up, walking over to her dresser. "Change." She left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. You changed into her clothes, standing in the middle of the room while rubbing your sore scalp. She walked back in a few moments later with medicine and water.
"Y/N." You looked up at her from over the water bottle expectantly. "I know you're just going to go back to her in the morning. But please stay here for the night. Just for her to cool off until the morning." You nodded, admittedly wanting to take any excuse to get away from Minji. As much as you love her, you began to feel like her behavior was getting worse. While she had very high highs, she also had low lows.
"Sleep. The girls will deal with Minji. I'll stay with you all night, I promise." You slipped into her open sheets, letting her wrap you into her warm embrace.
"Thank you, Hanni. I don't know what I could do to repay you."
"Leave her." You laughed, pushing her shoulder with yours. "I'm serious, Y/N. Leave her." You sat up, looking Hanni in the eyes as her tone became more serious. "I could treat you so much better than she does."
"What?"
#fem reader#new jeans x reader#new jeans minji#minji x reader#kim minji x reader#minji imagines#kim minji imagines#kpop imagines#girl group imagines#gg imagines#new jeans imagines#⸻ writes! 📄
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OKAY. since reqs are open uhm would you write madara cucking kuro plz...
like literally fucking fem!reader getting fucked, kuro's clothed boner pressed to her cheek while he kinda js sits back in shock and doesn't know what to do while mama is fucking her rrroughhhh and is like "you like my cock that much? kuros right there you'll make him angry" and shit. idk DOES THIS MAKE SENSE but yeah 🫶🏻
-🍓anon
A/N: I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE PLOT OMG SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope it's too ur liking I may have gone off the rails a little bit....
Pairing: Kuro Kiryu x fem!reader x Madara Mikejima
Content: Madaras into you, everyone and their dog knows that. Only problem is, you have a boyfriend.
Warnings: NSFW, dub-con, slut-shaming, oral sex(f receiving), cuckolding, dry humping, sexual harassment(?), mentions of cheating, established relationship with kuro, ooc madara(?), they're both ooc tbh💀, porn with plot
Words: 2.1k
NSFW oneshot under cut!
Have Him Watch?~
It was no secret that Madara had a thing for you. He had made his advances-both romantic and sexual alike-very obvious to you and everyone else, not even hesitating to flirt with you right in front of your own boyfriend, Kuro.
Kuro wasn't the type to let himself fall into petty jealousy, he knew you loved him and that nothing would never change that. Therefore, he hardly batted an eye whenever Madara made another stuipd comment about your body, or when his hands would linger for just a bit too long. It was better to simply ignore him and wait for Madara to get the hint. Kuro knew he was strong, but to pick a fight with Madara? Death wish.
So, he didn't aggravate him in any way, letting the bigger man do this thing until he realised he had no chance with you. Which is why he was confused when Madara cornered him in the gym one day, his teeth gleaming in his signature smirk.
"Kuro! My friend, my pal! Got a minute?" He beamed, slinging his arm around Kuros shoulders and pulling him in close, squeezing so hard you'd think he was trying to suffocate him.
"Uh, I'm a bit busy right now" Kuro pushed him off, dusting himself off and returning his attention to the weights he had been lifting. "Maybe later"
Madara smile didn't waver, if anything it only grew in size. Clearly, he had no interest in leaving anytime soon, not even when Kuro desperately wanted him too. Whatever Madara wanted from him, he didn't have the time for it. Not now, hopefully not ever.
"Ah, cmon! It'll only take a second!" He chirped, plopping down on the bench beside Kuro, crossing his legs and watching as the redhead started his reps. "Hey, working hard or hardly working, am I right? Hahaha~"
"Out with it, Mikejima" Kuro grunted, resisting the urge to smash his weights straight in the mans face. All he wanted was a peaceful workout, was that too much to ask for?
Madara laughed, waving his hand dismissively as if to clear the tension. "Always so blunt, I've always liked that about you y'know!" He grinned, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, you and (name), huh? How serious have you gotten with her? Is it marriage?"
Now he was just starting to piss him off. How was this any of his business? Sure, you and Madara were friends, but where did he get off asking for details about your relationship?
"She's my girl, yeah" Kuro answered, praying that his short replies would deter him from the conversation. If that was even possible.
"Right, right. And just hypothetically, if she were to cheat on you, would you be mad?"
Kuro tighten his grip on the weights, his knuckles turning white at the strain. "What are you getting at? You trying to start something?" He said through gritted teeth, shooting a glare in the brunettes direction.
Madara chuckled, putting one hand up in defence and using the other to playfully slap Kuro on the shoulder-a gesture that he did not appreciate, might I add. "Woah! Easy, I don't wanna fight ya! I'm just curious. Hey, maybe you'd let her cheat on you, I don't know what you're into!"
Kuro dropped the weights, the metal making a loud 'clunk' sound as they hit the floor, causing the other members of the gym to look over and stare at the two. Not that he gave a damn, oh no. Not when this clown was making a scene. How dare he suggest you would have an affair? Was he out of his mind?
"What's wrong with you? Of course I'd be mad, what makes you think I'd be cool with that? Get lost man" He spat, shoving him aside as he rose to his feet. The blood rushing through his veins felt as if it was burning as he sped away, not wanting to spend another second with such a fool.
What even was that? Kuro had gotten used to Madaras teasing and loud personality. Hell, he'd even grown to enjoy it to an extent. But this was just insulting. Why was he even saying those things? Did he know something Kuro didn't? Had you....
No, that was silly. You would never be unfaithful, that just wasn't you at all. Yet here he was, images flooding his mind of you tangled in Madaras arms, both of your bodies sticky with sweat and cum as you screamed his name. It was disgusting.
But so, so hot.
Shit.
/-----
You and Madara were friends. It was normal for friends to hang out alone in each other's bedrooms, even if they were the opposite gender, right?
Yeah, of course it was fine! Who were you kidding, it was perfectly acceptable.
You two were good friends, the best of friends! So it was normal for him to hug you, to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and pull you closer. He was a touchy person, after all. It was totally okay for him to nuzzle into your neck and inhale the smell of your perfume, to pepper kisses all over your jawline, to grind his erection against your ass-
Wait a minute.
"H-hey! What are you doing?" You yelped, squirming around in his grasp in a feeble attempt to escape his hold. It didn't matter how close you were, there was no way you'd be comfortable with this!
"What's wrong?" He cooed, your wiggling only seeming to excite him further as he continued his humping. "Friends cuddle all the time! Or are we not friends anymore?"
"This isn't cuddling! This is-ah! This is, oh fuck! This is sexual harassment, you perverted fuck!" You cursed yourself for allowing your voice to crack, letting those dreaded moans spill out like you were some whore who enjoyed this. Which, of course, you didn't! You didn't like it, right? Dammit!
"Sexual harassment, huh? If that's what floats your boat" Madara chuckled, pushing his hands past the hem of your skirt, groping the soft flesh of your thighs.
You squirmed around, hitting at his chest and clawing at his arms. It was no use, damn him and his muscles! In this position all you could do was stand there and take it, because in all honesty, you knew that no amount of protesting would get him to stop. Even of you did get away, it wouldn't be for long, Madara was as stubborn as ever and you knew for a fact that he wasn't afraid to use force to get his way.
You just didn't realize that part of him would ever show itself to you.
"Kuro. Kuro will be home soon, and he'll-ah! He'll kick your ass!" You threatened, snapping your head around to glare at the man behind you. Using Kuro as a form of defence probably wasn't the best idea, but it was your last resort. Begging and trying to fight back certainly didn't work against Madara.
He just laughed. "Maybe we can have him watch"
"What do you-"
A sudden knock at the door cut you off, the familiar voice of your beloved boyfriend coming from behind it. "Uh, (name)? Do you have someone over? Why's the door shut? Can I come in?"
Oh fuck. No!
It suddenly dawned on you just how horrible this would look to Kuro, you pinned against another man with his hands up your skirt? Anyone would think you were a cheating whore! No matter how much you tried to explain the situation, it would still look the same. You had dug your own grave by even letting Madara come over!
Madara pressed his lips to your earlobe, nipping on the soft flesh and whispering lowly, "Do you want me to stop?"
Yes! No! Maybe?
God, why did it have to feel so fucking good?
"Babe? I'm coming in"
"Wait-ah-no! Don't-"
Too late.
The door swung open, the face of your wide-eyed and shocked boyfriend sending a wave of guilt down your spine. He looked at you, then Madara, then you again, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out, only surprised mumbles and stutters.
You honestly couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, confused, aroused, maybe a mix of all three? And it didn't help that you were unaware of what emotions you should have been feeling either. Should you scream for help, or moan in pleasure? Push Madara away or pull him closer?
"Kuro... this isn't..." You started, trailing off when you glanced over the very obvious tent in the redheads jeans. Oh. Oh shit.
So he was aroused by this? What even was this? Some twisted form of roleplay? A fetish that the two men discussed that you didn't know about? Did Kuro actually like this, or was his body reacting subconsciously?
Either way, you didn't have much time to think about it before Madara picked you up from under your thighs and tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll, wasting no time in climbing in between your thighs and nuzzling his nose into your panties.
"Mm~ You smell so good" He purred, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure to your core, a gasp mixed with a whorey moan leaving your lips at the feeling.
The redhead in the doorway cleared his throat, footsteps echoing in the room as he made his way over to where you lay on the bed. He sat down beside you, a hand coming out to gently stroke your cheek. It was a soothing action. One that might have made your heart melt if there wasn't another man currently lapping at your panties like a starved dog.
"Is this okay? I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first.." He apologised, his face flushed pink and his lips turned upwards into a small smile. "Just tell me if your not enjoying it and I'll kick him out, alright? That's okay?"
You gulped, then nodded, bringing your own hand up to hold his as you squirmed around on the mattress, your mind slowly but surely becoming goo at the pleasure spreading through your veins.
"Ah!- I don't know"- Madara looked up at you with those big brown eyes, choosing that moment to flatten his tongue against your clothed clit, making a show of slurping and smacking his lips together -"f-fuck yes! Oh god, please!"
With consent finally granted, Madara hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in a second and diving straight into the heat of your pussy. He flicked his tongue up and down, side to side, round in circles and everywhere he could possibly reach inside of you.
Anything to make you scream his name, and scream his name you did. You threw your head to the side, falling into Kuros lap, as he brushed over that one spot, a spot that not even Kuro had reached before.
"Shit! Right there! Ah-ha~ Madara" You cried out, wrapping your legs around his head in a death grip, shoving his tongue even further inside you. "So good!"
He pulled his tounge out of your wet hole, opting to swirl and flick it over your clit. You withered and squirmed around on the bed, griping onto the sheets as hard as possible. The knot in your lower belly was starting to build, and both Madara and Kuro could tell. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire under Madaras touch, every inch of your body begging for release.
It just felt so good. So, so, so good-
"Ah-gonna cum!"
Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your lips parted and you were panting so heavy you barely had enough breath left in your lungs to moan or even scream. Juices splattered all over the face of the man in between your legs, dripping down his chin as he drank it up like it was the finest wine in the world.
Madara pulled away from your swollen cunt, climbing up onto the bed and hovering above you, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.
"Aren't you a little slut, huh? Getting off on my tongue while your boyfriend watched? You came so quickly, does he not treat you right?" He cooed, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes.
Kuro, who had been dead quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. "You didn't have to be so rough with her" He grumbled, stroking the top of your head.
Madara huffed, a grin tugging at his lips. "She loves it! Don't you know what your own girlfriend likes?" He rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to your blissed-out form. "Ready for more, sweetheart?"
#ensemble stars#ensemble stars x reader#enstars#enstars x reader#oneshot#ensemble stars oneshot#ensemble stars smut#enstars smut#writers#madara mikejima x reader#madara mikejima#madara mikejima x reader smut#Madara x reader#kuro kiryu x reader#kuro kiryu#writers on tumblr#fanfic#fanfiction
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I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.
So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.
Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic
( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)
pairing: julian/fem!reader
fandom: trailer park boys
tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy)
author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH.
word count: 6,442
everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.
The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.
But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.
"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is."
"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one."
And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.
"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change."
"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -"
"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -"
"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes."
"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people."
"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?"
"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else."
"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it."
"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?"
"Bubbles, look -"
"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it."
Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.
"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that."
"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out."
"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."
It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.
You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.
"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady."
"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."
"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag."
"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -"
"Come on Julian don't be like that -"
"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to."
Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.
It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints.
There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.
But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.
"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing."
You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.
"So you're Julian?"
Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.
"And how do you know that?"
"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together."
"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)."
"Then what are you here to do, Julian?"
There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.
"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all."
You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us."
Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.
"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ."
"Why are you really here, Julian?"
Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.
"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."
"I know."
"And you know, family protects family."
"I know."
"And you know, I'd do anything for my family."
"I know."
"Anything."
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you."
"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here."
"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -"
"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?"
Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you."
"You want to get to know me?"
"That's what I just said isn't it?"
"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight."
Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else.
Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited.
"You got a hot date you're going to after this?"
"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in.
"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"
"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal."
You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing."
"Oh yeah? Where are you from?"
"Southern United States."
"What state?"
"Texas."
"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against.
"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me."
"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?"
"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed."
"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?"
"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around."
Julian could relate to that.
"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?"
Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ."
"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?"
"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.
God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you.
"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.
"Yeah."
"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?"
You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.
". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to."
It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.
"What time do you get off work?"
. . .
Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ.
"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious."
"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?"
"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -"
The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.
Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy.
You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.
Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?"
"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so."
"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."
"Alright."
You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.
. . .
You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -"
"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here."
Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.
Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.
"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you."
"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you."
". . . that's alright with me."
You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds.
"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.
"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.
You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't.
Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.
"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.
"That's right." You respond gently.
"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.
"If you'll let me."
If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you."
If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt.
"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."
"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.
Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.
His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.
Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.
Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.
"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on.
"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"
Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.
"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -"
Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say."
The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath.
"You good?" he asks.
You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"Oh, God, Julian -"
"Fuck, (name)."
"Julian -"
"(Name), (Name), (Name)."
"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian."
"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?"
#julian tpb#tpb julian#tpb ricky#trailer park boys#tpb#ricky lafeur#julian x reader#julian x reader tpb#tpb bubbles#tpb ricky and julian#ricky tpb#julian x you tpb#trailer park boys reader insert#tpb reader insert
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Lack of interaction is a massive issue for every writer right now and I've been through it myself. I've had fics with 1k notes that have less than 100 reblogs. So less than 10%. And I reckon about 50% of those reblogs are my own when I've reblogged comments or for timezones etc. Then I get about 10 comments from my mutuals being kind.
I have a good group of mutuals around me who support my writing but sometimes it does feel like I'm living in an echo chamber.
I see random people follow me, like everything in my masterlist and then disappear into the sunset never to be seen ever again. I wonder did they actually even read it? Or just bookmark it for later then never come back?
It takes a lot of time and effort to write something. It takes a lot to post it out there on the internet for everyone to read. I think people forget that. Those 5k words I just posted are my inner most thoughts and feelings. They are a part of me.
yeah, ive definitely noticed this is something every writer is struggling w rn. ill read a fic and see it has so many notes then look at the like to reblog ratio and its utter garbage. not to mention if there are reblogs, they are mostly empty.
and for sureeeee most of those reblog are from mutuals or just comment reblogs from the op! which is so sad bc i wanna hear what other ppl have to say abt the fic!! esp if ur liking it im ~assuming that you enjoyed some of it.
+heavyyyyyy on the random ppl following you LMAO. and not a single comment or interaction. its so disheartening to see!
and literally regardless if its a plot heavy fic or something thats literally just smut (which is so hard to write sometimes, my god) it takes time and effort! this is something i enjoy doing and make time in my very busy schedule to get done. and to have no one say nothing???? im just like…..ok……why am i doing this then. (and pls. if u use the argument 'you should do it for yourself' im gonna find u and live in ur walls. im not playing.)
and ppl get sooooooo defensive and there so many different ways to interact w writers!! like sure u might not want to reblog for whatever reason but what abt comments? asks? making a sideblog?
idk im just very tired at this point lol
#asks#anon#INTERACTION LITERALLY SAVES WRITERS#IF YOU LIKE SOMETHING SAY SOMETHING AND THAT PERSON (more often than not) WILL CONTINUE WRITING WHAT U LIKE
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Arquiusprite, Jane Crocker, Roxy Lalonde, John Egbert, Rose Lalonde, Rosesprite, Jaspersprite
Act 6, page 7583-7588
ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Abra cafiddling dabra you silly shootnerds
ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> My e%ceedingly STRONG work as the party's premier bodybuilding hacker is done
ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Off I go
JANE: ...
ROXY: JANE!!!!!
ROXY: ur wake!
JANE: Roxy?????
JANE: U'r alive!
JANE: Er, you're!
ROXY: so are you!
ROXY: you were dead last time i saw you and also before i found u sleepin here but now ur awake and also alive!
JANE: Yeah!
JANE: You were dead too, because I...
JANE: But now you're??
JANE: Oh god, Roxy, I'm so sorry I,
JANE: I wasn't thinking straight when...
JANE: Please forgive me. :(
ROXY: aw janey you dont gotta worry about whatever sad incident that frowns about
ROXY: thats all water under a bridge from a reality i got no recollection of and therefore dont matter at all
ROXY: by which i mean......
ROXY: this reality here, so ok the reality is still KIND of relevant because we are literally inside of it atm
ROXY: but im new here!
ROXY: i came over to keep being roxy since the old one died or whatever thru hecka debacles
JANE: That... is quite an explanation!
JANE: Jeez, I missed you.
ROXY: cmere u extravagant bitch!!!
JANE: Hahah!
JANE: (Wait... what?)
JOHN: the hug pile doesn't stop from getting taller.
ROSE: ?
JOHN: the hug pile! there are more hugs, rose.
ROSE: I can see the hugs. I don't understand the pile thing.
JOHN: oh. don't you remember?
JOHN: a funny quote from one of dave's old comics!
ROSE: Ah. Yes, vaguely.
ROSE: It's been a long journey, John.
ROSE: I believe one of the most valuable lessons that comes with growing up is gaining the wisdom that gently informs you when it's time to retire a meme.
JOHN: heh...
JOHN: i guess i never earned that handy badge, or whatever.
JOHN: i like this, though. every time someone wakes up, or pops out of nowhere, it's fun times all over again.
JOHN: i feel like i should be playing reunion bingo.
JOHN: who will be next??
JOHN: my money is on the long awaited and insanely poignant reunion between me and casey the salamander.
ROSE: Surely you mean the dear Viceroy Bubbles Von Salamancer, right?
ROSE: And instead of you, you mean me.
ROSE: That's when the real tears will flow.
JOHN: what do you think she's up to?
ROSE: He.
JOHN: no, she is my beautiful daughter. :p
ROSESPRITE: Something tells me the good Viceroy has been busy.
ROSE: Oh?
ROSESPRITE: I sense he's been... scheming.
ROSESPRITE: Plotting.
ROSESPRITE: Biding his time.
ROSESPRITE: Accruing dark legions.
ROSE: That sure is a thing that would be dumb, if true.
ROSESPRITE: Yeah.
JOHN: hi nanna!
JOHN: jane, i mean.
JOHN: sorry, it's an easy mistake to make, because you're my nanna!
ROXY: lol
ROXY: real smooth shit john
JANE: Hello!
JANE: A pleasure to meet you, John. Or, poppop, as I used to know you.
JOHN: hehe, yeah so i heard!
JANE: You look so...
JANE: Young.
JOHN: thanks!
JOHN: so do you.
JOHN: my nanna, who used to be ashes on my fireplace, regained her old womanly visage when i turned her into a sprite, and she helped me along the way.
JOHN: so nanna is a sprite! did you know that?
JANE: Um... no?
JOHN: i thought you should know that. she's probably around somewhere. i hope you can meet her.
JOHN: oh, also, i'm your son technically. did you know that??
JANE: Yes.
JANE: It is... a pretty strange fact!
JANE: But also pretty cool.
JOHN: yup!
ROXY: ooh jane thats my daughter there say hi to her!!!
JANE: Hi!
ROSE: Hi, John's hot mom.
ROSE: (Aw shit.)
JANE: Haha...?
ROXY: also thats umm ANOTHER version of rose who died and then i buried and a stupid cat unburied her for some reason and prototyped her
ROXY: so say hello to my cool floaty double daughter!
JANE: Hi, Roxy's hot double daughter.
ROSESPRITE: :D
ROSESPRITE: (Rose Prime, I believe you may have just been owned.)
ROSE: (God damn Dave's contagious-ass Freudian boners.)
JANE: Wow, I feel so out of the loop! Sorry if I still seem disoriented from my... nap, I suppose it was?
JANE: Or impromptu troll-coma.
JANE: Roxy, you have to clue me in on what happened here! Where are Dirk and Jake?
JANE: And for that matter, John, where are your other friends? Oh, Jade! Where is she? Is she still asleep?
ROXY: hey janey that is all like a lot of stuff to say and everything goin on here is faaairly complicated and heavily peopled
ROXY: dont worry ill ease you into comprehending shit again ;)
ROXY: well ok cliff notes are: jake fucked off somewhere and dirk recently fucked off BACK here through a window but he left again pretty quick...
ROXY: dave went with dirk at wherever their fucking off too now, i think to get ready for some swords fightin, and yeah jade is still asleep but a coupla trolls lugged her off somewhere safe for now
ROXY: the REST of the junk im still sorting out myself bcs like i said im new to this exact plane of shenanigans
JANE: Yes, you mentioned that.
JANE: I still don't know what you meant by...
JANE: Wait!
JANE: You and John came from another reality, where everything went horribly, right?
ROXY: m-hmmm!
JANE: I just remembered. Really, it's been such a rollercoaster ride for my memory, since I fell asleep.
JANE: Your and John's travels were a critical part of the illustrated story we reconstructed through our memories with Callie.
ROXY: wat!
ROXY: you saw callie in your dreams????
JANE: I did!
ROXY: hoh man
ROXY: how is she!
ROXY: i saw her in a dream a little while ago and we talked about lots of stuff
ROXY: she looked like a troll then
JANE: Yes, her trollsona! She had hers on when I saw her.
JANE: And we had ours on too!
ROXY: :O FUCK
JANE: She seemed to be doing well.
JANE: Nervous, of course, since she was hiding. But we passed the time with our stories.
JANE: It was a lot of fun! I'm so happy I got to meet her.
JANE: I wonder if I'll ever get the chance again?
ROXY: wellll...
ROXY: now that u mention it
ROXY: it IS one of my chief objectives to go lookin for her asap
ROXY: aaand not to be THAT ROGUE n brag all heavy but i MAY be in better touch with my void powers now
ROXY: soo maybe i stand a p good chance of trackin her down?
ROXY: cus i GOT somethin for her
JANE: You do?? What? :B
ROXY: just a lil presie, nbd
JANE: ...
JANE: I see.
ROXY: JK IT IS CRUCIAL FUKKIN BLING JANEY
ROXY: ONE (1) PRICELESS DIGIT DONUT!!!
ROXY: W/ MORE KARATS THAN A RABBIT TOO FAT FOR A HOLE
ROXY: (s'magic to)
JANE: WOW!!!!!!!!!!
JANE: Ahem, so,
JANE: You mean a ring, then.
JOHN: yeah!
JOHN: oh man, that's a great idea roxy.
JOHN: you should try and give it to her as soon as you can!
JOHN: then maybe we can all meet her before we ramp up for this battle?
ROXY: hmm yeh!
ROXY: u think i can do it?
JOHN: sure!
ROSE: I like your chances too.
ROSESPRITE: Same!
JASPERSPRITE: Me too roxy! :3
ROSE: I also have some experience helping people along in the right direction, when it comes to navigating the abyss.
ROSE: Maybe I could assist?
ROXY: yeah maybe!
ROSESPRITE: I'm pretty sure I have experience performing literally the exact same task, in a slightly different context.
ROSESPRITE: So maybe I can double assist?
JOHN: see roxy? everyone thinks you should do it, because they all believe in you.
JANE: That's right!
ROXY: shucks fuckers ._.
ROXY: yall killin me here <3
JASPERSPRITE: Meow im so happy!
ROXY: frigglish u silly bastard whats up?
JASPERSPRITE: Purr purr purr...
JASPERSPRITE: All the humans being so close together and happy and friendly purr purr.
JASPERSPRITE: Its making me really excited and happy too and making me feel like i want to be a part of everything!
JASPERSPRITE: Purr purr and get close to a nearby person and be happy at them with my body purrrr...
ROSESPRITE: Jaspers, what are you...
JASPERSPRITE: I cant help it rose i want to cuddle im feeling so pleased and friendly! :3 :3 :3
ROSESPRITE: Jaspers, no,
ROSESPRITE: No, don't!
ROSESPRITE: JASPERS, NOOOOO!
JASPERSPRITE: :3 purrrrrrr
#homestuck#arquiusprite#jane crocker#roxy lalonde#john egbert#rose lalonde#rosesprite#jaspersprite#homestuck act 6#page 7583#page 7584#page 7585#page 7586#page 7587#page 7588#homestuck act 6 act 6#homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 5
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im so glad u watched 19 bc i truly have soooo many thoughts on like theres so much potential & really good scenes there but so many misses. the tex part is easily the best part of it though i still cant believe it actually happened. i kinda wish sarge's death was off screen like you see them watch him die but give him no final words sort of deal... i feel like it wouldve been a better plot device rather than the longer scene if sarge saying what he's feeling as he dies. sorry i keep thinking about that its my main thing i wouldve changed. well that and putting wash back in prison instead of a mental facility because i think a prison break with untreated mental illness couldve done more than ....... whatever the hell the wash scenes were. restoration is easily the best set up for fanwork ive seen in a while tho NGL the meta tucker concept is soooo fun i wish it got explored more. sorry im rambling in ur askbox now LOL
YESSS sorry for the late response. im glad rvb restoration dropped hwen it did so ic ould watch it irl with my girlfriend but it did happen to be during the most busy month of my year so obviously my blogging has been completely slacking. i really love this final line that apparently sarge was going to say. i think its more sweet and poetic than him spelling out how hes feeling about simmons and grif in particular
no yeah my biggest issue is just like. this felt like a vehicle for like, meta scenes saying goodbye to the reds and the blues, but the actual like "plot" of the season didnt really have any time to develop and had to just be quick weird scenes that were just kind of tonally dissonant and not really polished or treated with the same kind of care and deftness he was able to handle mixing the humor and plot elements of the recollections trilogy. both due to the runtime, him being out of the game for so long, and needing to do a full plot in one season instead of three. it really felt bare bones. which is fine it's just like, obviously you can see that its not the best, and i feel like if it was going to just be a vehicle for sappy goodbye to rvb as a property scenes i wish it had just gone all in and given us more interactions between the different characters. idk. im not really sure how id fix it aside from just having my own completely differnet version of their future in my head but ive already kind of written that post out for my post chorus vision lmao. dumpster baby forever...
META TUCKER IS REALLY FUN AND I COULDNT BE TOO MAD AT IT because it was literally a type of concept that epsilontucker riffed on after the open ended s13 (oh my god rip epsilontucker i think im gonna be sick). but his scenes again felt pretty jarring nad just put in there to keep the season moving and wahh why did they torture him for 10 fucking years ahhh scary AHHH. yeah, now that you said it it really does feel like. the bare bones of an incredible 250k word fanfic written by someone who has a different more serious tone than the original series like, put my guns in the ground style, moreso than an rvb season LMFAO but that's fine if anyones still in the fandom and cares to do that i'd love to see it. idk. im rambling. it was a good fun stream and i liked individual scenes but it was definitely all over the place for me
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Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:
Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.
At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.
And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.
aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,
(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))
also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏
far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).
right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check
for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏
if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring
kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.
colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me
but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing
coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.
colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !
and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business
just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]
he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.
he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.
the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers
his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.
he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.
when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.
he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.
the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?
they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !
he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.
he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.
the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.
and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.
he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.
the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.
the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...
when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.
he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.
of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.
if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.
the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...
it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.
colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.
elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.
she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.
surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.
he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.
when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...
...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.
thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.
the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.
of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.
vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.
if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.
elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.
and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.
things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.
he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.
this is where the reader steps in !!!
you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that
but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.
tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.
you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.
you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.
eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.
elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...
ah. there it is
you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?
that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?
you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.
you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo
you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.
the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.
he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.
as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.
"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"
when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.
meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.
you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.
elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.
"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.
"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.
"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"
"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol
you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.
he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"
you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."
and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?
but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.
"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.
as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"
you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move
"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually
the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.
"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."
your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3
you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.
but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.
he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere
he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."
he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."
over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.
"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.
at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.
"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"
the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.
his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.
his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.
"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.
"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.
he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."
"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.
"let's get to it."
#blurb#ask#goddamn will they EVER let each other finish a sentence.???#sorry dialogue is Not my forte 🙈 im a prose kinda girlie hardcore#also yahhhh i just kind of . totally abandoned the ending to cater to my h/c fantasies. sorry not sorry 😎#halfway thru the second block of bullets i realized the hc format was completely pointless and i had basically written a full fic#on the other hand im nothing if not a stubborn bitch so.. not changing the formatting now.!#if u think about this too hard u start to see a lot of plot holes#or at least further questions about the specificities of vamp lore in this au#to that i would recommend u pls ignore them 🥰#GODDD i started writing this directly in the ask. like a fucking FOOL#knowing FULL WELL how this stupid post editor not only eats ask drafts for breakfast and spits out their bones#but ALSO that the even STUPIDER copy/paste restrictions would hit#since theres a character block limit separate from the character POST limit 🙄#so ive had this tab open for almost a week and have just been walking on eggshells around my laptop praying to not lose it dfghj#MASSIVE SIGH OF RELIEF TO POST IT TBH#also smitty ive got a sidenote for u as well but its gonna go on main lmao. one sec#oh god............ just realized i did the ff.net thing with the in-text ANs 😳😳#pOST CANCELLED; EVERYBODY GO HOME
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Discussing/Going Slightly Crazy over Tears of Themis Main Story 09: Grey Frontier, a Post
will definitely contain spoilers under the cut!
HOO BOY TALK ABOUT MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS. NONE OF MY PREVIOUS QUESTIONS WERE ANSWERED AND NOW I HAVE MORE HOLY MOLY
my heart dropped when i didn't see a Trial level. more questions, less answers.
let's start by discussing the squares in the little bingo made by @/actualbird, who i will not tag because i do not want to spoil him accidentally. thank u zak for ur services :D
one thing to note is that there are NO bingos this chapter, mainly because one thing most of us probably didn't expect lmao: NXX SEPARATED.
unthinkable. unimaginable. like there's practically NO team stuff in ch9. that's insane. artem was flooded with heirson cases, vyn was dealing with.. whatever the fuck he was doing, marius was presumably busy with managing the backlash of the trial in 08, and that leaves luke, who even though is the one that mc can tag along with for a case is still busy on his own with nsb stuff. hardly any teamwork happening, besides if you count marius' "interrogation" where luke gave him his button back and vyn just guiding mc to figure out what the suicide notes meant... yeah. not to mention artem being skye's attorney???. 99% Win Rate Artem Wing. hello. I have never been more confused. what's the plot behind this? are they all orchestrating a behind-the-scenes plan that'll come together, or are they really all doing their own shit? I'm leaning more towards the former given the nature of the game but gosh this is taking a TURN
translation errors were a lil funny but i could still understand the point which is all i need.
vyn doesn't say anything ominous but saying kys out of nowhere counts a little i think.
jerome 🫰 hes cute but he's uncanny and I'm so curious as to what he's up to. telling the little girl to get marius to pay was nice but there must've been an underlying intention.
no nxx team meeting (i mean with luke and artem. that barely counts because artem was so busy he just let luke have her).
mc figured out abt luke's illness but from what I'm seeing nothing is quite clear and she doesn't know he's got three years oof. artem has a clue but I'm sure he knows nothing either. and marius and vyn have their suspicions but nothing's sure or confirmed.
LUKE PROTECT ROSA !!! YEAHHHH watch ur back u bitchass macho king
do parallels btwn skye and the incident with luke in the hospital count as symbolism idk I'm counting it. i think there's some symbolism a little bit.
for our romantic moment before something terrible happens, ah yes, sweet and worried words on a phone call and then luke has a whole episode. yay. delightful. luke don't fucking die.
no tot story would be complete without an absurd mid-story debate. damn, right in front of the secret nsb station???
no weird luke gadget 😔 sorry he was busy being sick
found family? they aren't even together the marluke moment was barely anything. artem worried about luke having an episode... counts a little. not enough to warrant even a question mark 😔
no nxx meeting, no hilarious bullshit from a boy. sad.
WHAT IS THE TIMELINE SHAKES HYV WHAT IS GOING ON
free space luke is dying
AARON YIPPEEE. good dad.
vincent is a good boy but no intel from him. just him being Best Assistant. Bestest ever.
I didn't cry but i am close to a mental breakdown
LUKE DEPRESSION ASHDJKWKW poor guy.
not sure if Emotionally Charged and Slight Conflict counts as an argument but personally i think kinda?
no baldr because NO TRIAL AAHFJSJJSK
not only do i have more questions about the new Big Bad but I have questions about WHATEVER THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH THE WHOLE TEAM.
voice acting 🔛🔝 as always.
NO COURT 😓😓😓😭😭😭
marius was pretty badly injured what the hell WHERE'S HIS PERSONAL BODYGUARD AJDJFWJ LUKE CAN U DO A LIL FAVOR PERHAPS
artem? almost no artem. AND NO CAPTAIN MORGAN IN THIS STORY AT ALL 🥹🥲
luke's hands. r so pretty. in both goddamn illustrations. eeeee
okay and that's all the bingo points sorted, most of it sorted. two other things that piqued my interest was
1. skye harper. she loves taking care of people and she hates seeing people suffering. gerard suffered because of his mom and so many patients suffered because of tyson turner. she wants to protect her patients and the people she favors. i support her actions btw she's so cool for that. artem also supports her so that's a point in our favor! i also think her drinking all night when gerard disappeared definitely is relevant somehow, we'll see in the next chapter.
2. mc is probably feeling a little left out ngl. everyone's got their own thing, and she can't really actively participate in much because she got doxxed and her personal life is being pried into. and she can't do much about anything, not even help artem for some reason, and she's definitely having a personal conflict especially with luke's... everything. i just love mc's character so much i hope she snaps soon tbh.
thus ends my crazy goings. if u read all the way here kudos have a cookie 🍪
and when we get to the whole team about luke's illness... rubs hands together. hoo boy ch10 is going to go CRAZY.
ALSO the nsb is definitely shady and marius does not trust em all that much. i think he trusts luke but his affiliation with the nsb is causing some distance. aaa.
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not to martian this but i was gonna be like "2010 seb pavloving mark so badly with his long pullable hair he still gets a reaction 12 years later!!" delighted in correcting myself: mark is pavloved simply by seb's proximity. but anyway um yes please elaborate on ur thoughts why would u threaten to delete the gospel truth
PLEASE you are so right about it just being Seb's proximity. I am never EVER getting over any interview of them over the last few years but especially Silverstone 2017 Channel 4 interview where Mark is all gooey eyed touchy. See Seb -> Brain Function Re-Diverted immediately kinda deal (mood). Bless you for seeing this vision immediately as Martian because.,,, YEAH me too ;-; & THANK You for allowing me to talk about this some more 🙏
seemore-ing this simply because I am 300% certain I'm going to go off on several! tangents. sebmark ramble ft. pink hair bobbles below the cut (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
weeeee i am not good at collecting my thoughts into coherent writing unless I spend several hours plotting beforehand ALAS this needs to be said from my desk whilst I should be working;;
Something something exactly Mark being absolutely feral for Seb's long curls in 2010. there's just so much to grab there y'know !!! So much availability to shove his fingers through it and pull. Not just when Seb is expecting it too? He's just easy to tug around by his hair a bit :( It's easy to make Seb look at him if there's a fluffy mop of curls right there to grab at and yank :( And there’s this one time that 2010 Sebi GIGGLES and ties his hair up and it’s just a joke that he ties it up because it’s not really quite long enough for that and he ties it a little too high, so it sticks up at an odd angle like Sebastian was expecting when he did it - but then he’s sat between Mark’s thighs and the joke isn’t really funny anymore. (And then he does it a few more times for good measure. Because it makes cleanup easier if they’re on a schedule and Seb doesn’t really have the spare time to be washing Mark out of his hair before he goes out in public. Because Sebastian actually sort of likes it, grows his hair out even more just to be able to tie it better. And now every time Mark sees that little hot pink hair bobble Sebastian's suddenly got dozens of in his vicinity, even just on his wrist, or when he’s fiddling with it in his fingers in a press conference or debrief, or he inevitably finds one hiding in his own pile of laundry, he twitches and sighs and zones out.)
And now cut to 2022 when Mark gets to watch Sebastian's hair start to slowly grow out through the season, at first sure that eventually he's going to show up one day after not seeing Seb for a week or two or more - both caught up in their own lives with work, on different time-zones and they get that, it's part of the business - and he's going to see him again in photographers Instagram posts, or discussion with other people, or grabbing some spare time with Seb, or upon arriving at the paddock himself that Sebastian has cut his hair and it's shorter again. But that day just never comes? His hair just gets longer and longer every time Mark sees him!!! And Mark just doesn't say anything. Because it's whatever, and he absolutely definitely isn't thinking about it every free moment (and NOT free moment) he gets.
Sebastian's hair keeps getting longer and now Mark's fingers are twitching every single time he's in close proximity to Sebastian. They do a lot anyway, an itch to touch, to close any space between them, but this is different. His fingers start to curl a bit at his own thighs rather than just twitching fingertips, he absentmindedly threads a hand into his own hair like he's just slicking his hair back but he tugs a little on the way, and that only ever leaves him feeling... unsatisfied and a little hollow and not realising the correlation.
Sebastian's curls start to fall over his forehead, down the back of his neck, and get in his eyes. Mark's fingers twitch all the more, even seeing Sebastian on the big screens when he's working distracts him. and he still hasn't put two and two together? that oh- moment hasn't arrived!
Sebastian shows up with a headband, eventually, and Mark misses the curls that had started straying over Seb's forehead. Especially misses watching Sebastian pushing his hair back behind his ears, a move that always looks bashful to Mark even when it's not. Mark decides quietly to himself that he does not like the headband.
It’s when Mark sees Sebastian brush his hair back with both hands as though he’s about to tie it up in a little ponytail that he gets his aforementioned oh moment. Except it’s sort of more of an oh shit moment because he feels like the bottom of his stomach drops through the floor in that moment that he’s convinced Sebastian is about to have a little pullable ponytail and Mark is almost certain he’s about to see Sebastian fish a little pink hair tie out of his pocket. The headband comes back out again instead though, and Mark isn’t sure if he’s more devastated or relieved.
AND HONESTLY this is where my plot making skills fall apart because I write all the pining and then inevitably fall apart at the final hurdle. But perhaps Mark shows up one day and it’s after a comfortable slow build up where Sebastian just about has him out of his jeans, that Mark stops him and takes the same coloured hair tie out of his pocket that Sebastian used to use religiously, drops it into Sebastian’s open palm, and asks him if he would, just for old times sake? Just for him?
YEAH. JUST. Sebastian in hair bobbles :( Mark LIKING Sebastian with his hair tied up and not realising how much he’d missed it :( 2022 Mark at the place where instead of ruminating on it alone he just. Asks Sebastian :(
#soph.answers#SORRY this sat in my inbox for a while because i had to immediately turn my pc on to type a landslide of words#i don't write anything publicly like. ever. so this is. this#also ames if u want me to answer this priv rather than public lemme know!!!!#AM I SUPPOSED TO COMMUNITY LABEL THIS? WHO KNOWS NOT ME#userxoames
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howdy y’all, name’s chai, and i’m suupper excited to be here! i’ve brought u my bb, mateo, matty if he likes ur muse enough, and havoc in the ring ( he’s a professional fighter ). under the cut i have some facts and bg on him, as well as some wanted plots. if u wanna plot, pls leave me a like and i’ll come annoy u in ur inbox. love y’all already !!
* ── ( emilio sakraya , twenty four , cis male , he/him ) welcome to hilton hills , mateo “havoc” kovac ! as a well - known UFC fighter , we can’t believe you traveled all the way from rio de janeiro, brazil in order to spend a few months here . you’ve made quite the name for yourself in the tabloids as being - nonchalant and - stubborn , but all we have seen is how + ambitious and + dependable you are since you arrived a few days ago . if we were to compare you to anything , it would be the crackle of the wood as the flame dies out, the silent buzz in your ears amidst a stadium of deafening cheers, and the sound created by the union of turbulent waves and cliff side stone on a stormy night . make sure to unpack in time to make it to the bonfire tonight ! i hear they are going to play loyalty by kendrick lamar just for you ! [ chai , 21+ , they/them , est ]
name: mateo kovac
nicknames: matt, matty
gender: cis man
pronouns: he/him
age: 24
occupation: UFC fighter
height: 185 cm
eye color: hazel
hair color: dark brown
tidbits
mateo is the second oldest of five siblings ( older sister, two younger brothers, and youngest is a sister as well — his parents really wanted another daughter ).
didn’t start off rich, but they found luck in the restaurant business and now they own at least 10 different restaurants across the country.
grew up in the hilton’s but moved to brazil around 19 to start his training. he’s been back and forth ever since then.
got into fighting pretty much right out of high school and didn’t bother with college. nickname is “havoc” bc his coaches thought it was funny that it was similar to his last name kovac, and bc once he sees an opening, he creates havoc with his swings.
currently in the lightweight division, with 6 fights under his belt, 4 wins and 2 losses, though last three have consecutively been wins.
doesn’t come off as very personable during interviews, and that’s because he’s not. he’s in the UFC for the love of fighting, not for the fame of it.
a cat daddy. has three cats, two rescues and one he took from his friend. it’s not odd for him to be spotted with a stray cat on his heels; he seems to attract them for whatever reason.
personality wise, he can come off as cold and aloof at most times, especially if he doesn’t like you ( he’s not one to hide his dislike ). with his friends, however, he can flip a switch almost completely and become a different person.
not really a party animal. tends to be the old man of the group, going home early and getting in his hours of sleep so he can wake up early and work out in the morning,
an excellent cook. tends to happen when you live alone and you need to shovel in a certain amount of calories. at one point, it becomes tiring eating just plain chicken for protein all the time.
wanted plots
the bad influence. mateo lives a very healthy life-style, due to his job. he has to keep his body in the best shape, so that means barely any drinking, absolutely no drugs, and no late nights out because of his strict schedule. well, he did come back to visit for a little vacation, and this friend did always have a way with their words. he finds himself being dragged out to places he doesn’t ever frequent against his better judgement.
childhood friend. someone he grew up with and knows him better than he knows himself. someone his siblings consider as another addition to the family.
the ex. also happens to be his first love. their rls lasted a while, with him completely head over heels for her, before he finds out that he’s been cheated on, and he breaks it off with her. however, that never stopped her from calling him on her nights out drinking, and it always ended with him picking her up from the club. it’s been a while, but he can’t seem to shake the hold she has over him, though he knows he won’t ever call her his again.
the love interest. okay so i would kinda love for his love interest to be the best friend of his ex? it would be a slow burn type of situation, with discreet glances and secret touches here and there. there’s this immense tension but they don’t ever cross it ( they will down the line tho hehe ) bc they know that it’s wrong. would be slow burn type shi bc im a slvt for that stuff skdjfnsdf
maybe someone he likes to spar with for fun. he needs his exercise on vacation still.
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Abt the ask game: talk abt ur newest babygirl, Majima
I'm on it, boss
GORO MAJIMA
Favorite thing about them: He may be morally reprehensible and have the looks of a sewer rat but his slutoutfit is sublime. Jokes aside, though, I really like that he seems to be playing a persona most of the time and I really enjoy characters that just pretend It's All Cool I'm Having A Good Time I Am Having A Good Time. Also his weirdass moral compass. And the silly
Least favorite thing about them: WHY DOES SEGA MAKE HIM AND KIRYU CARE FOR EACH OTHER AND THEN NOT CARE IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS?? "Oh, Kiryu-chan died! Sad!" MF WHAT?? REACT AND GRIEVE
Favorite line: "How the fuck should I know how this tangly-ass rainbow shit works!?". It's not deep, it's just funny. He was trying to defuse a bomb btw
brOTP: I haven't seen enough of Saejima to know for sure, but yeah. Yeah
OTP: I,,, don't know? I think whatever the hell he has with Kiryu is super fun to explore, but also whatever he has with Makoto makes my heart bleed; they could even be used as foils to each other in some regard, to the point where the two of them, if paired with him, would eventually just parallel the other; but unlike the Watson situation, I can't pair them all together into one huge fuckpile though and that upsets me.
nOTP: Haven't been around long enough to know which ships there are but for the love of GOD if anyone thought about Shimano I am biting your ankle
Random headcanon: His Family has actual business that actually work that keep the money coming so they can spend it annoying Kiryu or running away from his problems, it's just that they're not relevant to the plot okay I saw them with my two own eyes when I went to Kamurocho
Unpopular opinion: His hairstyle. It's not good
Song I associate with them: This is Gospel - Panic at the Disco
Favorite picture of them: SUNAO NI I LOVE YOU-
[ IMG ID: A screenshot of Goro Majima, from the Yakuza game series, in an idol outfit. / END ID ]
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Hii! I just discovered ur blog and in in love. I really like ur take on the boys<3
Well, for my request... We know that each dorm has a series of things in common, aesthetic, qualities, tastes...
How would the boys react to a mc who is clearly a perfect fit for their dorm but belongs to ramshackle?
hi anon!! thank you so much for the love and i’m happy you enjoy my takes on the boys! i’ve had these thoughts festering in my brain for a while now so it’s exciting to see people enjoy my head canons as much as me. i think this is certainly an interesting request and one i’ve thought about before lmao. the format is different considering that i would assume you need a general consensus of letting mc transfer from ramshackle. i believe their reactions would be really similar but i’m going to touch upon personal details that fit the respective characters briefly.
DIASOMNIA
the entire dorm is really excited for you to come! after all, you were best suited for diasomnia. it was just that...well, the dark mirror said you didn’t have any magic. but you and grim were one student and grim had magic so that must mean the magic mirror could be able to read grim. sebek, while not usually willing to bend the rules, wants to prepare the entirety of the welcome party. lilia won’t let him do everything (the last time that happened it was a bit of a disaster) also because they still aren’t sure if crowley would let you transfer over. malleus is the one trying to convince you to transfer. despite how run down ramshackle is, it’s become akin to your home at this school and you were hesitant to leave. silver couldn’t wait for you to come though he was being dragged around by sebek to prepare for the party.
HEARTSLABYUL
riddle immediately hits the rule books when he realizes you’re the perfect match for heartslabyul. there were no rules with the queen of hearts so the only thing holding them back was the school rules. he’s drafting up a whole appeal and has trey look over it constantly. cater is also helping out with the drafts and trying to make the language more “appealable” but...well, let’s say a lot of his edits aren’t up to riddle’s standards. on the other end, ace is busy fighting with deuce over who can room with you and who will be your best friend when you enter heartslabyul.
POMEFIORE
you’re beautiful, you’re graceful, and you’re ambitious. everything necessary to belong to pomefiore. it was that magic mirror that caused you to be sorted into ramshackle. and vil’s not having it, not when there’s clear talent within you. he’s going to appeal and he even scents his letter like the extra man he is. rook’s on board for whatever you want to do. he would prefer you come join them at pomefiore since you are a good fit and even has ideas to fit you your own dorm uniform when you come. epel’s more laid back. at least you’re a genuine person in pomefiore since the dorm is filled with people who aren’t so genuine.
SAVANACLAW
even without magic, your competitive spirit is through the roof which is something befitting of savanaclaw. leona has you coming over and staying over often without appealing which is unbefitting in crowley’s eyes. ruggie’s going to be the one doing the appeal this time around to make sure you’re able to stay. there are other dorms who think you’re a better fit for them and certainly the spelldrive tournament scandal doesn’t help. but that doesn’t matter. jack is excited for you to come and he’s plotting out a welcome party as ruggie’s typing up the appeal.
OCTAVINELLE
azul’s got influence, clearly with the mostro lounge being an established business at nrc. he has no problem talking to dire crowley about letting you into octavinelle and he’ll do it secretly do. the man won’t tell you you’re being transferred. and then jade’s at your door with azul and they’re both got big smiles on their faces, saying, “ready to go?” floyd’s already dragged you to octavinelle and you basically live there since you visit so often.
SCARABIA
it’s already implied that the reason why kalim was in nrc is because of a bribe. so there’s a likely chance that a bribe will be used to drag you into the scarabia dorm. jamil doesn’t approve of the use of bibery and it was probably mentioned offhand during a visit back home from kalim that he would love for you to join scarabia. he’ll probably write the appeal instead and pitch in a good word for you to dire crowley.
IGNIHYDE
there’s not much idia could do other than bring up the idea of you transferring from ramshackle to ignihyde. he’s most definitely preparing to write a letter. and when it’s done, he sends ortho to dire crowley to see the appeal. ortho couldn’t be more excited for the idea of you transferring. in fact, you remember him begging for you to transfer when he recognized that you were such a perfect fit for ignihyde.
#twisted wonderland#twst#diasomnia#heartslabyul#pomefiore#savanaclaw#octavinelle#scarabia#ignihyde#idia shroud#kalim al asim#jamil viper#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#deuce spade#ace trappola#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#sebek zigvolt
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something more
(originally posted by alpha-bug)
summary: where pietro confesses his feelings to you without actually confessing them to you, through a necklace. inspired by this prompt list.
content warning: pietro maximoff x fem!reader (i’ll try to write more gender neutral fics in the future!) obviously set in a world where he survives and civil war doesn’t happen. (friends to lovers, mutual pining and pietro being a sap.)
note: okay so this is my first fic in a while so i’m sorry if this sucks </3 i want to write more pietro/peter fics so please send requests ! (also lemme know if you can guess the movie bucky was confused about !)
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
masterlist
"You're staring." Wanda points out, idly watching the older twin stare at the person who clouded his thoughts, not that Wanda needed to read his mind to know that.
"Don't you have something better to do?" Pietro scoffed, unwillingly looking away to glance at his sister. She chuckled, turning away from her brother to check on the pot on the stove, before continuing to chop the vegetables scattered on the chopping board.
"Don't you?" She simply asked, humming to the song playing out loud from her phone, Pietro's eyes were drawn back to you.
You were explaining the plot of a movie to Bucky who stared at the screen in pure confusion. "I don't get it? He killed her but he loved her?" Bucky asked you, in response you shook your head exasperated. "You saw her give birth right after, how could she be dead if she was naming her kids Buck?" You asked, glancing up when you heard the footsteps of someone approaching you.
"You're not replacing me with this old man, right?" Pietro teased, moving to sit next to you, reclining back on the couch, arm around your waist. You rolled your eyes at what he said, automatically leaning into him as the three of you continued to watch the movie playing on the big screen in front of you. The two of you barely noticed when Bucky decided to leave, too caught up with one another to bother caring about what's going on in your surroundings. You pushed him away from you when he tried to steal the m&ms you were currently snacking on only for him to pour most of the packet into his mouth.
"You disgust me Maximoff." You scoffed, biting back the smile forcing its way up. "And you love it Prinţesă." Pietro retorts, his eyes meeting yours. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing could come to mind, it was common for Pietro to randomly call you nicknames but that doesn't mean you were used to it, especially when he'd use pet-names.
Your friendship with Pietro came as a surprise to the rest of the Avengers years ago due to the differences in your personality but if you asked any of them what they thought about your friendship now they'd complain about how clueless the two of you are to the other person's feelings.
Somehow in the chaos that the two of you called your 'friendship', the line between platonic feelings and romantic feelings blurred. Pietro isn't the type of guy to steer away from romance but this situation was entirely different to anything he experienced. He cant just tell his closest friend that he loved you, he couldn't tell you how when he holds you in his arms it pains him to let go. How could he tell you that? After everything that happened to him in the past, the wall he built around his emotions to protect himself began to crumble and you were the cause of it. Pietro always struggled to talk about his feelings, his past. He felt the urge to protect himself and his twin from anything that could hurt them, he didn't want to make the same mistake again.
The unintentional movie night led to the two of you continuing to hanging out in Pietro's room hours later. It was your nightly ritual to watch an episode or two of a show that Pietro usually wouldn't want to watch before the two of you go to bed. Pietro was in the far end of his room, fumbling with something in the palm of his hand while you sat comfortably in the middle of his bed, head resting on one of his pillows as you set up the show on the laptop.
"For someone as quick as you, you sure are taking your sweet time doing whatever it is you're doing."
Pietro glanced back at you in surprise, almost like he forgot what he was supposed to be doing, too busy staring at the dainty chain tangled in the palm of his hands, with a small engagement ring at the end, in place of a pendant capturing all of Pietro's attention. It was fit for a petite woman. The silver was slightly scratched. Two slightly larger silver stones surrounded a slightly larger stone, although quite dull at first glance the engraving on the inside showed was still noticeable.
"I'm in no rush, dragoste mea." He chuckles, shoving the necklace into his pocket before moving to take his shirt off to put on a different one while continuing to speak. Your eyes followed his movements, subtly admiring his body as his muscles unintentionally flexed which resulted in you feeling your cheeks heat up, quickly looking away to not get caught checking out one of your best friends.
"You know I still don't know how I feel about Vision hanging around my sister." Pietro confesses, his overprotectiveness towards his younger sister evident as he continues to replay what occurred during dinner hours ago, Wanda confessing she wouldn't mind moving to a rural neighbourhood with Vision instead of staying at the Avengers Headquarters.
"People can't control who they fall in love with Pietro." You sighed tiredly not realising the irony behind your words, it wasn't the first time Pietro mentioned his hesitation towards the Android.
"People can't, robots can." He scoffed, walking to the dresser to put away his shirt, now wearing a pale blue shirt instead of the charcoal grey T-shirt he was previously wearing.
He moved to the bed, sitting beside you before shifting around to get comfortable. Your hand reaches out to the laptop to begin the episode only for Pietro's hand to place his above yours, stopping you.
"Since we're on this subject..." he paused to pull the necklace from his pockets before holding the necklace out towards you, letting the ring dangle from the chain between the two of you, twisting and turning because of the sudden movements.
You glanced at Pietro in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. He then pulls the hand that was covered by his own and turning it so your palm faced upwards, dropping the necklace in your hand. You held the necklace between your fingers, admiring the gems on the ring before noticing the engraving etched on the inside of the engagement band.
"I+O?" You read out the engraving in confusion, eyes meeting Pietro's soft gaze. He paused for a bit, struggling to put together a sentence that wouldn't cause the wall he created to completely collapse.
"Irina and Oleg, my parents. This was my mother's engagement ring. It was apart of the few belongings they've managed to find after what happened." He gently takes the necklace from you, signalling you to turn away from him so he can put it around your neck. Gently pushing all your hair to the side you felt goosebumps rise wherever Pietro's fingers grazed on your skin, the familiar heat rising in your cheeks once again.
You were secretly relieved that he couldn't see your reaction, the unspoken tension between the two of you currently was unbearable. You looked down at the ring, twirling it around with ur fingers while Pietro continued to speak.
"We decided that Wanda should keep our father's ring since he barely acknowledged me as his son, let alone a person." Pietro chuckles dryly.
Pietro turns you to face him, palm resting on your left cheek. "It looks good on you Draga Mea." He compliments you, eyes glancing down to your lips ever so often. "Why did you decide to give it to me?" You whispered, struggling to find your own voice.
Pietro's mouth curved into a smile, his thumb gently stroking your face
"Can't you tell?" He asked.
"Hmmm i think I'm going to have to hear you say it." You teased, smiling up at him, arms sliding around his neck pulling him closer towards you. He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance before telling you what you wanted to hear.
The next morning Wanda lightly knocked on her brother's door, wondering why he wasn't at breakfast. Waiting a couple moments for a response Wanda slowly opened the door only to be met with with the two of you lying in bed in each other’s arms, the laptop ended up at the edge of the bed as you completely forgot about it after the events of last night. Pietro had his arms tightly wrapped around your waist while your head rested on his chest, the two of you smiling contently.
"They're good for each-other." Wanda whispers to her partner who stood beside her.
"They are indeed."
#marvel#MCU#Wanda maximoff#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff x reader#wandavision#quicksilver#quicksilver x reader#aaron taylor johnson#avengers#avengers assemble#peter maximoff#peter maximof x reader#pietro maximoff fluff#aou#quicksilver fanfiction#pietro maximoff fanfic#pietro maximoff Drabble#MCU quicksilver#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#avengers one shot#marvel imagines#avengers age of ultron#marvel blurb#maximoff#pietro x reader#quicksilver headcanons
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