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#BROKEN-ASS HOUSEHOLD!!
poorlittleyaoyao · 1 month
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pot-kettle interaction of all time
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nadvs · 2 months
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cam girl (part five)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.
When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.
Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.
You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.
Rafe: sore?
You reply: as fuck.
Rafe: you loved it
You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.
You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.
You reply: so did you
Your phone buzzes again.
Rafe: send an ass pic
You: are you always horny?
Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard
You: and i’m the needy one… lmao
Rafe: are u sending it or not
You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.
The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.
Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.
Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.
You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.
You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.
But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.
Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.
You text: wish u were here?
Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night
You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…
Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you
You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.
maybe, you reply.
Rafe: you took my cock so good
You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.
You: show me it
Rafe: you’d like that huh
You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it
Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick
You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.
You: what? i can’t tease you too?
Rafe: no
You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it
Rafe: only good girls deserve it
You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that
Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night
He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.
Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.
Rafe: ???
You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening
He only texts your name.
You: rafe :)
A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.
You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.
You: am i allowed to touch myself?
Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.
Rafe: if you promise me something
You: what?
Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight
Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.
The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.
You: i can do that
Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready
You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.
Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.
You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.
You pick up your phone.
You: might have to go back to sleep after that…
Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.
Rafe: order breakfast for yourself
The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?
You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3
Rafe: did u call about the heat yet
You reply: i will
Rafe: do it now
You: bossy
Rafe: now
God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.
It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.
You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.
When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.
The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.
You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.
He joins the session and lust fires through you already.
“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”
figure8: much better
figure8 tipped you $100.
“What’s that for?” you giggle.
figure8: for looking so pretty
“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”
You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.
figure8: goddamn
You smile.
figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second
“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”
figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?
You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.
You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”
figure8: maybe?
“Depends on your mood,” you say.
figure8: the fuck does that mean
“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”
figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol
“Shut up.”
figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night
“I hate you,” you laugh.
figure8: you love me and this dick
figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass
You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.
figure8: fuckkk just like that
“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.
figure8: i wanna see them ripped off
“These were expensive,” you pout.
figure8 tipped you $500.
figure8: there, you can buy more
“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.
figure8: rip them off right now
You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.
You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.
figure8: shake ur ass
You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.
figure8: let me see ur asshole
The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.
You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.
figure8: holy fucking shit
figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass
figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger
You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.
You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.
figure8: is it nice and wet?
“Mhm.”
figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?
You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.
figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it
You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.
figure8: hows it feel?
“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.
“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.
figure8: fuck yes
You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.
When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.
As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.
figure8: u like that?
“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”
You get the reaction you were hoping for.
figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?
“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.
figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?
“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”
figure8 tipped you $1000.
figure8 has left the session.
You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.
You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.
When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.
“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”
“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.
Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.
With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.
You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.
“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.
“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.
Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.
“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.
He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.
“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.
You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.
You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.
Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.
He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.
“Tighter,” you whisper.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.
His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.
“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.
“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”
His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.
“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”
“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.
You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.
Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.
You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.
“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”
The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.
Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.
“Don’t do that,” he instructs.
“My neighbors-“
“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.
“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”
“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.
“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”
“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”
The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.
“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.
You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart in your ear. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.
As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.
“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.
“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.
You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.
Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.
“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”
You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.
He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.
“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.
You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.
“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”
“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”
He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.
“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.
“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”
His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.
The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.
“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”
His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.
Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.
He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.
He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.
“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”
His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.
You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.
“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”
You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?
“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.
He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.
“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.
Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.
Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.
Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.
He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.
“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”
“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.
“Cancel?”
“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean?” you whisper.
He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.
“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.
“They didn’t already fix it?”
“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”
“So, you spend another night cold?”
“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”
You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.
“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”
“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.
You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.
“Hotel?” you repeat.
“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”
“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”
Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.
You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.
You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.
“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.
“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”
You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.
This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?
But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.
You’re not sure what to do.
{ read part six here }
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sahkuna · 13 days
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needed to write a drabble about sukuna being that hot older brother you always look forward to seeing at your best friend’s (yuuji) house... eee!
UPDATE: there’s a FOLLOW UP to this drabble
content warning: f! reader, smut, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope! oh and modern au:]
he’s only a couple years older than you, (by three years, if you want to be exact) and you’ve been acquainted with itadori yuuji's older brother— sukuna— multiple times.
whether it was through seeing him over at the itadori household during high school or being invited out by yuuji to sukuna’s new place a couple years after college— sukuna had always been a lingering presence in your life.
your relationship hadn’t been anything more than exchanging brief pleasantries whenever needed. until things start growing more suggestive as the two of you grew older.
it wasn't planned. the kissing, the meet-ups late at night, him deliberately lingering around when everyone else seems to have left the room. there were too many incidents to recall.
but one thing lead to the next and...
the slapping of skin on skin can be heard throughout his apartment, echoing against the walls of the vacant hallway that leads towards the doorway of sukuna's apartment.
tucked away behind his bedroom door, is quite an obscene scene. with your chest pressed against his mattress and face covered deep into his pillows, there's only so much left for you to do as you stick your ass up to receive the rough pounding from sukuna's thick cock.
the coherent sentences you used to form a few moments prior have slowly turned into a series of whimpers and broken moans all while sukuna has a tight grip on your waist pulling your ass flush against his hips so he can bury himself deep into your sweet cunt— unprotected.
you forgot how this came to be, of who convinced who to dip their toes into the world of sex with each other but you're damn glad that it happened.
"oh god," you blurt out between cries. sukuna's left hand drags down away from your waist, and finds its way toward your clit. "ah—! please, don't stop! that's… so good, so goo—ah!" you just about lose your mind when his fingers tease your sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles.
there's a mean, wicked smile tugging at the corner of sukuna's lips. his brows rise in amusement at how quick you are to fall apart in his hands— quite literally at that, too. "think you can hurry up and finish before your friend comes back?" sukuna asks, tone unwavering despite how his hips thrust into you repeatedly.
ah. your friend. his brother. the fact that he doesn't even bother to address him by name and does it dismissively would have you chiding him to be nice— but you're too far gone to digest what he said.
between the touching and the fullness of his dick pressing and rubbing against the walls of your pussy, you squeeze your eyes shut and wail. "please, please— i think i'm—!" your hand shoots down to hold onto his wrist. but you don't pull it away from you, despite how overstimulated you feel. "shit!"
when sukuna pulls out briefly to rub the head of his cock against your slit, you whine at the loss of him. with shaky hands you press your palms against his mattress, and make a weak attempt to change positions onto your back.
"please, put it back in!" he's definitely gonna make fun of you for begging later. but perhaps a higher power decided to have mercy on you— just this once— because sukuna's back between your thighs and stretching your hole.
fuck him, fuck him, fuck him and his stupid, girthy cock. and the smug ass expression he's probably got on his face right now.
despite that all, you wanted to kiss him. just the thought of it was—
the harsh sound of a fist pounding at his front door tears you from your thoughts. you're about to question who it is until you hear a voice from the other side that you know all too well.
"answer your phone, sukuna!" wait, why's yuuji here? "if you're gonna invite me to your place, at least do it when you don't have some girl over!"
"are you crazy?!" your voice is sharp, incredulity seeps through your tone.
with his dick still submerged in you and his hips rolling at a languid pace tacked with the sound of the gentle plap-ing of his skin against yours, — as if his fucking brother wasn't technically right the fuck there— he offers you a mere shrug. "forgot i invited him over."
and fuck him for being your best friend's older brother.
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sweetpyxels · 1 year
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the upcoming update
How to update:
BACKUP your saves !
update the game so that you don't have your whole Mods folder in but move mods, tray and saves to a safe place and update.
clear caches, old last exception files and anything that does not belong in the game files.
once updated start the game vanilla with no mods, let the game generate new save, tray and mods folders.
In game make a vanilla sim , move them to vanilla lot , play a while and save the game and exit.
Do not put ANY MODS in your game until you are sure they are UPDATED!
Put your mods back in game and test them with that vanilla save.
Start with visual overhauls, lighting mods etc..
Add big mods like MCCC, UI cheats etc..
Then smaller mods and always make sure you have the udpated versions
Lastly add your defaults
then other cc and do not dump everything in there at once, but try to put them in smaller patches
and with every mod or folder of cc you add, test the gameplay with your vanilla household.
Once you are sure you have all mods working and udpated you want you can move back your Saves and Tray from the safe place you put them.
Do not go on and about harassing modders to fix their mods, this is a big udpate, updating lot of functions from the base game and other packs. Some mods might break a lot some less, so give modders time to fix their mods and don't be an ass about it.
This way you can update safely and you don't have to be worrying of the possible bugs the udpate gives (remember time moving in cas bug, instant getting older bug) and possibly corrupt your save file with a broken mod. You can spend few days with the vanilla save to make sure everything works as it should.
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doumadono · 5 months
Note
For send me character(s) and a letter and I’ll write you a minific!
Please do A with Dabi 💙💜
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A/N: I hope you'll enjoy this little drabble, my dear ♥ The inspiration for this ficlet came from the following post
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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The snowstorm raged outside, a relentless dance of icy winds and swirling flakes that threatened to bury everything in its path.
"This is just fucking great," he grumbled, his usual indifference not hiding the annoyance in his voice. "Who sends people out in this weather?"
"Tomura," you replied, wrapping your jacket tighter around your figure.
"We need to find shelter," Dabi said, his tone more serious now. "This storm isn't letting up anytime soon."
You and Dabi, reluctantly paired up as "team" by Shigaraki, sent on a mission to gather critical intel, found yourselves seeking refuge in an old, abandoned house that creaked and moaned under the pressure of the storm.
The air inside the dilapidated structure was just as chilly as outside, and the cold seemed to seep through every crack and crevice.
Dabi, his blue flames flickering ominously from his palms, took charge. With a sly grin, he ignited some discarded materials, creating a makeshift fireplace in the center of the room.
You huddled close to the fire, relishing the warmth but still shivering from the lingering cold.
Dabi, seemingly indifferent to the freezing temperatures, settled beside you. The fire's glow reflected in his eyes as he glanced your way.
"So, we're a disposable pawns with a mission," he snarled, a hint of amusement in his gravelly voice. So, what do you think about the League?"
The flames cast eerie shadows on the walls as you considered his question. "They're certainly… unconventional. But their goals? I don't know. It's hard to wrap my head around it. I find myself without alternative options. Given my history of misdeeds, the prospect of a conventional, ordinary life remains elusive, you know."
Dabi's skepticism lingered in his gaze. "Don't expect too much. These people have their own way of doing things, and it's not for everyone. Specifically, a young woman hailing from an esteemed household, as that seems to be the background you come from, based on the information I've gathered from Giran."
You only scoffed, rolling your eyes.
As the conversation continued, the cold continued to nip at you.
Uncharacteristically, Dabi sighed and, with a flicker of hesitation, said, "Come here, Y/N."
You raised an eyebrow, puzzled by his sudden shift in demeanor. Nevertheless, you edged closer, and he enveloped you in his arms. His quirk emitted a comforting warmth, and you couldn't help but lean into it.
"You're freezing," he stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing for him to notice. "Fuck, this is exactly what I need - my partner freezing her ass off in this fucking weather."
"I can handle it," you insisted, although your teeth betrayed your words with an involuntary chatter.
Dabi rolled his eyes. "Stop being stubborn, Y/N. Just sit on my lap. I can make myself warmer if I want to."
You hesitated, unsure of the unexpected intimacy. But the cold won over, and you found yourself gingerly perching on his lap, still shivering like a leaf caught in the storm.
Dabi's arms encircled you, holding you close. The flames from a fireplace danced in his eyes as he spoke, his voice softer now, "You know, I didn't expect anyone to stick around. My appearance tends to drive people away."
The vulnerability in his admission caught you off guard. "Well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, trying to sound reassuring. "And you ain't that bad, man."
He nodded, a subtle gratitude in his eyes. "Guess you're different."
Silence settled between you, only broken by the crackling of the fire. The warmth of Dabi's embrace began to thaw the chill in your bones. In that vulnerable moment, he hesitated before finally confessing, out of sudden, "I like you, Y/N."
The admission hung in the air, the crackling fire casting a warm glow on the revelation. As Dabi confessed, your response was a quiet smile that held a blend of sincerity and acknowledgment of his gruff demeanor. "I like you too," you replied, your words carrying a teasing edge. "Even if your gruff ass is problematic at times."
Dabi's rough laughter echoed through the room, a surprising sound that seemed to cut through the cold like a welcomed flame. "Yeah, well, can't argue with that. I've got my issues."
He shifted slightly, the light of the fire highlighting the scars and staples that adorned his skin. In that moment, he seemed almost vulnerable, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he often projected. With a flicker of curiosity, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You surprised me, you know?" he admitted, his gaze holding yours. "The day Giran brought you in, I was sure you'd last, what, two days? Tops. Figured you'd take one look at the League's shit and hightail it out of here."
You couldn't help but chuckle, the sincerity in his words catching you off guard. "Well, I guess I'm more resilient than you thought."
Dabi's smirk returned, a playfulness in his eyes. "Resilient and useful. You've pulled your weight a few times. I admire that, actually."
As the conversation hung in the air, he continued to study you. With a surprising gentleness, his fingers traced a path from your cheek to behind your ear, the touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
Shivering slightly, not entirely due to the cold, you found yourself captivated by the closeness. His scarred face, illuminated by the flickering flames, told a story of pain and resilience. In the dance of firelight, you observed the lines etched on his skin, the staples that held it together — a testament to a life lived on the edge.
Your lips parted slightly, breath catching as you observed him. It was a moment of vulnerability, a shared understanding beneath the surface of gruff exteriors.
Dabi's gaze met yours, and for a heartbeat, the world outside the abandoned house ceased to exist. In a bold move, he closed the already minimal distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as unexpected as it was intense. The initial contact was almost clumsy, a collision of warmth against the coldness of your lips.
Taken off guard, you hesitated for a moment before surrendering to the unexpected intimacy. The kiss was messy at first, a tumultuous exploration of unspoken emotions.
His hands cradled your face, the heat from the fireplace mirrored in the heat exchanged between you. As the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, becoming a dance of tongues in unison. The initial awkwardness transformed into a shared rhythm, a connection forged in the heat of the moment.
As the kiss finally broke, a warmth lingered between you and Dabi. You felt his fingers gently brushing against your lips, mirroring the touch of your fingertips as you touched them in a dazed realization. The firelight painted a soft glow on both your faces, and when you looked into Dabi's eyes, there was a tenderness that seemed to soften the rough edges.
"Guess I've got some surprises left in me," he muttered, a rare hint of a smile playing on his lips.
You couldn't help but return the smile, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his face, the scars and staples that told a story of resilience.
"Maybe I like surprises," you replied.
His hand found yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement.
As you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on Dabi's cheek, the fire continued to burn, casting a warm glow on the scene. The snowstorm howled outside, but within the walls of the abandoned house, a different kind of warmth prevailed — a warmth born from shared vulnerability, unexpected connections, and the sweet taste of a kiss that defied the cold reality of their surroundings.
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drefear · 6 months
Text
Kitten Licks
Summary: You work with your friend with benefits, Miguel O'Hara in a restaurant in Nueva York as a bartender, but you both have secrets you cannot share. Will you be able to keep it, or will the cat come out of the bag?
part 1 - part 2
TW: alcohol, work, tiny bit of violence, stealing.
The black night sky made the air cold against your skin, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. The soft, shiny material of your catsuit made you warm against the cool breeze of the wind that hit your face and you heard the sirens in the distance. You had about 15 minutes before they realized that the most precious gem of the new egyptian display at the Met was stolen, and you had 16 minutes before Spider-man
 would be on your ass and barreling towards you like a battering ram at the speed of a jaguar, swinging with the pure intention of justice or whatever crap he spouted to the press. 
The adrenaline was completely worth it and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement flow through you as you thought of the large man coming to find and apprehend you. He almost always won, but you were never taken away. 
On top of this all, you worked tonight with your friend with benefits and coworker, which meant you’d probably end up hooking up with him and staying at his house, which meant you needed to shower about your heist. 
The gem in your bag was worth a couple million dollars, and you’d definitely add a delivery fee to whatever price Kingpin was going to throw at you. You weren’t some errand girl, you were a professional thief, a real life Lupen, a cat burglar for the rich and famous.
That is how you got your name. Well, that, and your super powers, but those were an accident. 
“Gatito.” A voice rang through your ears as your turned a corner and saw the glowing red mask you knew would be making an appearance soon., But this was too soon. 
“What took you so long, Spidey? I was starting to think you retired.” You tossed the stone from one hand to the other, balancing on one leg and quickly judging your surroundings for an exit strategy. 
“That would make your life too boring.” He replied, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes. You’d debated hooking a clawed finger into the fabric of that holographic suit and revealing his face, but he would never let you get that close. Only once had you gotten that close to him, and both of your hands had been restrained. He was strong. “Give me the gem.” 
“Fine, how much are you willing to pay?” 
“Your bail.” His sarcasm made your body feel like it was on fire, and you smiled playfully, showing off your unnecessarily sharp canines. 
“Not enough. See, my other client is paying me that tenfold and not putting me in jail, so I’ll have to pass, but thanks for the offer!” You waved and backflipped onto the rooftop below, sliding into an open window and shifting throughout the house quickly, as quiet as a mouse. Your heart pounded as you saw flashes of red and blue against the window, but you knew he wouldn’t risk barging into a household for you and the stone. Your feet pattered against the hard floor as you found a window on the opposite side of the apartment you’d broken into and you slipped down onto the fire escape, shimmying around the metal beams to hop across to the next building. 
You’d thought you’d lost him until an arm grabbed you mid air and yanked you onto a fire escape, your body pressed against his as you heard his breathing begin to relax. 
“You’re not as slick as you think you are.” He mumbled and pulled your bag open, only to see it was empty. 
“And you’re not as smart as you think you are.” You growled back and jumped over him, climbing the ladder of the fire escape and kicking him onto the railing, hearing a soft ‘oof’ before jumping into the night and landing on the sidewalk. 
With that, you ripped your mask off and fluffed your hair to blend in with the masses of people in Nueva York and your job was complete. You escaped with the artifact and got past spiderman. Success tasted good. 
You’d give the stone to Kingpin that same week, but the only goal you had for the rest of the night was to sleep so you could function at your job in a handful of hours, and sleep evaded you almost immediately when you got into bed that night. 
The next day, you walked into work with your bag on your shoulder and heard a deep voice call out your name. 
“Late night?” Miguel called over the bar as you set down your bag and glanced behind you to his register. 
“Sorta.” You answered and shoved your bag under the countertop, looking up at him as he poured vodka into a tin to prepare whatever cocktail he was making. You tugged off your sweatshirt and dropped it into your bag, then closed the cabinet and stood up straighter as he looked you over. “How’d you know?” 
“Your eyes are glassy.” He concluded as he shook the drink and poured it out into a short glass. His eyes found yours and you furrowed your brows while scoffing at his comment. 
“Thanks.” You answered and he rolled his eyes, making you catch a glimpse of a large bruise on the back of his neck. “What about you? Get some action last night?” 
“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Why would you even-” He turned to you defensively and glared at you with annoyance as you interrupted. 
“The back of your neck. Is it a bruise or a hickey?” You wiped your hands with a rag and studied his reaction as he suddenly got a bit nervous. 
“Bruise. I walked into something.”
“Backwards?” 
“No, just-” He sighed, stuttering a bit now, “I bent down and hit my neck on something.” 
“Then you didn’t walk into anything.” You added, poking him in the side and laughing. 
“What are you, a cop?”
“Nah, just concerned. Seems like you’ve got some memory loss from that hit.” You continued to joke until he splashed you with water from the sink as your manager walked out and sighed. 
“Can you two stop flirting and get back to work?” Ben sulked and pinched his nose, still wearing sunglasses. 
“Ben, I’m not even clocked in.“ You answered and he looked up while flaring his nostrils. 
“Then fucking do it.” He barked and you just ignored him, tapping the register screen and watching him storm away as an older couple sat at the bar while you tied on a little apron, moving to grab a tray and looking around for any new tables. “You’re on bar tonight!” Ben yelled across the restaurant as you huffed. Turning to face Miguel, he waved at you and tossed a bar key to you as you made your way back to the bar. 
“You’re at service bar.” 
“You are my greatest enemy.” You answered as he smiled and winked, wiping down a martini glass as you hung your head.
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Text
Let's Talk About Lincoln And His Dads, Okay?
I think people claiming that Lincoln and Grant "aren't so different after all" because, like everyone else in the show, they both have blood on their hands, have mostly missed the mark on where the core of Lincoln's issues with his dad(s) lie in the first place.
Moreover, I'm tired of people insinuating that Lincoln's troubles pale in comparison to Normal's or Scary's or Hermie's, and I'm tired of people saying that Lincoln is overreacting, or that Lincoln is a hypocrite for calling out his dad's behavior, or that he is in the wrong for setting boundaries, or that he's ungrateful, or that he's responsible for ensuring his dad's emotional wellbeing and not the other way around!
*breathes* So let's. Let's finally talk about Lincoln and Grant (and Marco also him).
[WOAH THERE! Hey you, yeah you, this is a long-ass post, mhm, it's one of those, so please keep that in mind before venturing below the cut. Maybe grab yourself a drink or a bite to eat first, yeah? Additionally, sorry the transcript stuff is a bit messy in this one, tumblr has a 30 image limit and well, I had to find workarounds. Also, I haven't yet added alt text for the transcript screenshots- I plan to when I have a bit more energy for it, but I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause in the meantime!]
Part 1/4: "Honesty is hardly ever heard, and mostly what I need from you"
Lincoln is certainly a pacifist at heart (in more recent times important examples of this include Lincoln's refusal to harm Scary in the Swallows household, as well as Lincoln being the only one of the teens to successfully avoid using violence in front of d00d during their most recent standoff with Willy), and in good paladin fashion functions as the group's moral compass the majority of the time.
Despite this, Lincoln's morals are not so simplistic and idealistic as to not differentiate between different motives for violence, nor does he view acts of violence in and of themselves as signs that a person is "evil" or "irredeemable". He can for example, see the difference between the acts of Willy and those of the kiddads, as he tries to explain when confronted by the other teens on the matter:
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In fact, even after Grant tells Linc all of this during the incursion:
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Lincoln's primary goal is still to save his dad first and foremost, then offer him the room to explain himself, without immediately chalking him up as a bad person because of what he has done.
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Lincoln certainly doesn't approve of Grant and his violence, though he can understand that things are seldom black and white. But the killing is far from the only issue here. In fact, it's not even the main issue.
Grant creates a foundation based on trust and accountability whose importance in the Li-Wilson household is hammered in from the very first episode.
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And we see throughout the early episodes of the season just how strongly Lincoln believes that Grant would never lie to him.
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Then of course the incursion point encounter happens. There are several elements of this encounter that we will gloss over for now and go back to later, but of immediate importance is the fact that this interaction serves as direct confirmation for Lincoln that his dad has in fact been lying to him his entire life.
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Additionally, he learns that Grant possesses a deep hatred of himself, wants to die, perceives himself as "broken beyond repair", and fears that Lincoln will somehow wind up just like him. That's a lot for one kid to have dropped on them, let alone all at once and without warning!
So- Lincoln wants to confront his dad after this both because he wants his dad to explain himself and take accountability for his dishonesty and for his actions more generally, and because he is concerned for his dad's wellbeing.
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Now let's look at how Grant has, over the course of the season, responded to Lincoln's attempts to get him to take responsibility for his actions, and talk about his mental health:
The first thing Grant does is pull a classic Wilson "we'll talk about it later". Then the very next thing he does is lie to Lincoln again, now pretending that his plan is to fix things with Erin by offering her a gift (when of course he's actually set out to steal the sun)
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Then as a deflection when Lincoln further tries to confront him about the lying, he indirectly equates everything he has kept secret from Lincoln (see the incursion point stuff) to "little white lies" and, contrary to the philosophy he so heavily instilled in Lincoln, argues that sometimes lying can protect the people one cares about:
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Which as a point of interest I would like to compare and contrast to something Lincoln says in an earlier episode:
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"lies can protect" vs "protecting is also trusting"- anyways moving on,
From there Grant's plan to steal the sun eventually comes to light (heh) and gets foiled, forcing the teens to be the mature ones in the situation and try to negotiate something with Erin. While he is certainly disappointed by everything going on, however, Lincoln's priorities vis-à-vis Grant are still, first and foremost, to ensure that he is safe, and when time allows for it get an apology from him and get him to talk openly about everything he has withheld. At this point in time Lincoln, while obviously angry at his dad, still very clearly cares about his dad and just wants to be able to talk with him without all the lies or deflection or excuses.
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Then the teens are backed into a corner when their attempts at negotiation go sour, and ultimately wind up helping Grant steal the sun. Once that is over, Lincoln tries to confront his dad again, now with regards to some of the things he said about himself:
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(Do note that last bit especially as it will be of relevance in the next section)
Then after Grant ignores the other teens when they try to talk to him, Lincoln calls him out and once again asks him to apologize, in part for having told Lincoln previously that they were dangerous and that he was not to hang out with them:
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(as you might have guessed, Grant does not apologize).
Then it is established that the "zone of truth" in the Li-Wilson household isn't actually a spell but an agreed upon promise between Marco, Grant, and Lincoln to tell only the truth when someone calls upon the zone of truth, further cementing the degree to which honesty is an important Li-Wilson family value. Whilst in the zone of truth, however, Grant beats around the bush with regards to his intentions, and the teens ultimately decide that they do not want him to come along with them to the church of the doodler, as he is untrustworthy, in addition to Lincoln saying that he needs some space for his own sake. Grant then pretends to respect this decision, though he is in fact once again lying through his teeth, and sneaks back on later.
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Before exiting the bus for the first time, however, Lincoln tries to get his dad to open up a bit about his feelings. Grant's response?
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Time after time after time, Grant refuses to confront himself and address anything from what occurred at the incursion, and in fact adds on to everything with a whole new slew of lies, and with each failed attempt at connection the rift between Lincoln and Grant increases. And Lincoln, true to his values and how he was raised, is not a hypocrite in wanting openness and accountability from his dad. Lincoln is not and has never acted like he is perfect and beyond making mistakes, but Lincoln takes responsibility for his actions, even when the degree to which he is actually complicit in the crime at hand is questionable. He writes a letter to the families of the firemen because he feels responsible for their deaths. He apologizes to Taylor for lying to him about the bracelets and helps not only Taylor but also Nicky escape the clutches of the FBI, even though the consequence of doing so could easily have been his own death. When he thinks he may have inadvertently lead Hero on, his immediate decision is to take accountability for it and clear things up. All of this in addition to consistently apologizing to his friends when he thinks he may have hurt them for one reason or another.
This is also an important thing to consider when we talk about the place of violence in the show. Yes all the characters, including Lincoln himself, have had to kill at some point or another for the sake of survival and protecting the ones they love. But Lincoln does not use the blood on his hands to justify violence in future decisions. Despite the fact that he has had to kill before, Lincoln, as mentioned in the beginning of this essay, continues to try incredibly hard to act as pacifist whenever he can, choosing to protect those around him with as little collateral damage as possible. Does he have a perfect track record? No! Does he still try his damned hardest to choose kindness and mercy? Absolutely! And this is an important distinction especially between Lincoln and Grant.
And then Grant kills Terry. Now Lincoln must shift his priorities towards protecting his friends from his dad, but in running after Scary still finds himself forced to confront him. So what does Grant have to say regarding his actions?
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Both Lincoln and Scary are right to be furious with this response, Terry Jr. is dead and all Grant can offer in response is what is essentially another excuse. Grant's mental state does not absolve him of responsibility or accountability for his actions, which as Lincoln points out (and repeats later) consist not only of the singular choice of shooting Terry, but of every choice he has made before and after that. "I'm sorry your dad is broken" obviously doesn't bring Terry Jr. back, but perhaps more importantly demonstrates that Grant is still not willing to reflect on his actions any further than that and work on himself moving forward.
So Lincoln does what is perhaps the most difficult thing he has done in his life, and disowns his father. This is not a rash, impulsive decision. As established, Lincoln has given Grant many chances throughout the season to address his behavior and at least fucking *talk* with Lincoln about his mental state, but he refused. He refused, not because he means harm, but because Grant truly believes himself to be fundamentally broken and irreparable, and doesn’t see the effect that his own suffering is having on his son. This, in addition to continuously failing to take Lincoln seriously and treat him as more than a little kid, both in failing to listen to Lincoln's voices of concern as well as in disregarding any of his proposals to go about things differently (whether that means avoiding violence, trusting rather than lying, or both).
So when Lincoln says:
"It's not about what you just did now, Dad. It's all your choices. You chose me. There wasn't some passion, or, or just a kid. You chose me as your kid, knowing you were broken. You can't take that back. And… I love you, and I hate that you made me love you, when… you are who you are and you knew it."
This isn't Lincoln saying that Grant should not have had a kid because he is mentally unwell or has trauma, it is Lincoln saying that Grant continues to make choices without acknowledging his agency in those choices and the effect they have on those around him, instead choosing to pin his mistakes on his perceived brokenness without any resolution to do something about that.
And before you say, "but Grant didn't have a choice in becoming Lincoln's parent since he saved him from the Titanic":
This simply isn't true, as strictly speaking there was nothing stopping Grant and Marco from putting Lincoln up for adoption if one or both of them did not feel themselves to be ready or capable of taking care of a child and
Ignoring Lincoln's exact phrasing, "choosing to be a parent" is not just about the literal choice to have a child, it's about every choice you make before and after that. It's choosing not to express your concerns over parenthood with your spouse, which based on Grant's track record:
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-Is definitely in-character for him. Conversely, in Marco's case, it may be choosing not to ask your partner about their feelings on the matter (because, really, asking Grant on the spot while literally on a sinking ship if he's okay with adopting the baby they just found is kinda rough). It's choosing not to go to therapy (not that we know whether Grant specifically did/does or not but all the same). It's choosing not to apologize when your child is upset with you because of something you did. It's choosing not to take them or their friends seriously. It's choosing to lie instead of trust. It's an endless amount of choices that Grant (and Marco) made every step of the way!
As a final note for this section, what's particularly unfortunate is that even with Lincoln's disownment, Grant still has failed to show any major signs of change. Note this telling exchange (from episode 40):
Grant: I-I understand that. I just thought. Just something that just occurred to me. Hey Dood.
Dood: Yeah?
Grant: Why did you kill those two guys?
Dood: Because I love you so much and I wanted to protect you.
Grant: Okay. That's all I wanted to know.
In which Grant is still making excuses rather than owning up to or apologizing for anything or striving to change his behavior in the future. What's great about Grant's "point" here too is that the two guards that d00d killed were absolutely unnecessary deaths, so this example does anything but work in Grant's favor.
Part 2/4: "My mother hates her body, we share the same outline"
But this is only part of the problem. As aforementioned, we learn early on and see repeated on multiple occasions that Grant thinks ill of himself to the point of believing that he deserves death, and does not want Lincoln to be anything like him.
This affects Lincoln in two major ways. Perhaps most obviously, it leaves Lincoln greatly concerned for his dad's wellbeing, which in turn acts as his main motivation for trying (and failing) to get Grant to explore and explain those feelings. Additionally, however, Grant's self-loathing also has a passive but deeply damaging effect on Lincoln's self-worth. The most important indication of this is when Lincoln says:
"Okay. Look, Scary, I just... You know what? I don't even care. I just needed a friend and I don't know… I don’t know what you're going through, but… no, my dad always said you can't love somebody unless you love yourself, right? Well, last time I asked him if he loved himself, he… He doesn't. So… I don't know, so maybe he doesn't love me either. And you seem to know what that's like, and, you're my friend! You're dealing with these things and I'm just here. I just, I don't know! I don't love myself either! I don't know! But I know that more people will die if we can't do this together, and you're the only person, like, in this group— I mean you guys are, I mean— [sighs] Look, you can go. I'm not going to stop you. You go if you want to go. I'm done."
Also classic Lincoln move to say he doesn't care then proceed to hug Scary through an Eldritch Blast. In this essay, on why people misuse the word "apathy" in applying it to Lincoln,
Though the issue comes up again in a less obvious but very interesting way when Lincoln says that:
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Which I assume probably seems pretty out of left field. To explain a bit what I'm trying to get at here, consider the following scenario:
Your parent, who you care about immensely, possesses certain qualities (say, idk, intrusive thoughts or mood swings or delusional thoughts or *something*) that they possess great shame over, and truly, wholeheartedly believe makes them "evil" or unlovable or even outright deserving of death. Of course, you do not believe that your parent is any of these things, it hurts to see that they feel this way about them-self, so you try your best to support them, even if you know deep down that you are their child and this should not be your responsibility. Your parent does not see the effect that their mental state is having on yours, does not take your voices of concern seriously, and mostly leaves you feeling like you are talking to a wall.
This hurts already, but it gets worse. You are your parent's child, and you are human, and so you inevitably find yourself with some of the characteristics that your parent loathes so much in them-self. Maybe you have similar thought patterns. Maybe you've made similar mistakes. Your parent doesn't love them-self because of these qualities that you now see in yourself, so how can you be sure that they do not hate you for them too? Do they believe that you deserve to die for these things as well? Your parent obviously assures you to the contrary, after all, they love you more than anything. But your parent fails to offer any meaningful line of distinction between their flaws and yours (after all, there isn't one, not really), and continues to assert that, unlike you, they really do deserve to die. Your parent is a hypocrite, and their reassurance does little to convince you.
Hopefully that makes some sense. With regards to the "dreams about killing my dads" part, mostly what I'm trying to say is that these dreams, while certainly very different from Grant's conscious thoughts about violence, still tread the line of mimicking them to some degree, and Grant's "I deserve to die because of how my brain works, don't be anything like me because that's bad!" really doesn't leave Lincoln with a healthy way to process and interpret this fact about himself, even if these dreams don't actually say anything about who he is as a person.
Anyways all that to say, on multiple levels Grant's unwillingness to even try to love himself and treat himself better has been having effects on his son that he can't even begin to realize, in addition to everything discussed in the first bit.
"But baba," I hear you say, "what about Marco? Why has Lincoln seemingly disowned both of his dads?"
Part 3/4: Three is the loneliest number
Well, I think there's a couple things going on here. For one thing, I think in a sense Lincoln sees his dads as kind of a "package deal", which is to say that from his pov disowning Grant means Marco would have to pick a side, and though it pains him immensely (as we see evidence of on several occasions), Lincoln would ultimately rather give up Marco than have Grant be left alone without either of them, because he will always love and care about Grant, and because he's selfless that way.
Additionally, for a good long while, Lincoln doesn't actually appear to harbor any resentment towards Marco:
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However, this later part of the season has brought with it a new wave of disillusionment, and in its wake Lincoln has finally come to question the last major issue characterizing his relationship with his parents: social isolation.
We have known from basically the first episode of the season that Lincoln has lived a very isolated, lonely life, and that the only reason he's even going to public high school now is because he finally convinced Grant to let him:
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As a side note, I have seen discussion of the fact that since Lincoln was rescued from the Titanic, it's possible that he was homeschooled solely because he did not legally exist. The above statement from Matt seems to work against this theory, in addition to the fact that if Lincoln was missing legal papers to get into elementary school... That would also prevent him from going to high school. Also, I mean. If you actually were to find an abandoned baby there's a whole legal process you're supposed to go through, and since Lincoln surely wouldn't have any close blood relatives around, that would still leave the possibility for Grant and Marco to adopt him legally if they wanted to (and if they chose not to go through said process, that's kind of on them?). Which isn't to say that this theory is out of the question, but in any case being homeschooled is one thing, whereas the actual degree of social isolation Lincoln goes through growing up is way more than just that, as we will delve into.
Now, we know that Grant eventually puts an end to Lincoln and Normal seeing each other on the basis that Lark and Sparrow are dangerous, which... Itself is actually fair tbh, in particular given what we now know about Hero. Not fair to Lincoln or Normal, obviously, but understandable. Much less acceptable, is the fact that Lincoln actually grows up without any friends his age whatsoever:
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We understand of course that the motives behind this extreme social isolation are not malicious or otherwise done with ill-intent, but that doesn't make this even remotely okay! Of course then Lincoln is very clingy and perhaps even territorial over his dads, to the point where one of his biggest fears is his parents having another child who would take some of their attention away from him- they've created an environment in which they are basically all he has!
As a direct result of this, Lincoln gets lonely very easily, and when he finally does make some friends of his own, he will do anything and everything for them, even if it means risking his own life (at least then he isn't alive and lonely!)
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This is also why Lincoln is so especially distraught after the loss of Mr. Kicks, a digital avatar whom he considered his best (and only) friend.
Additionally, Lincoln's fear of returning to his lonesome childhood creates an unfortunate scenario in which he cannot be honest with his dads about the fact that he is being bullied at school
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Even though that is definitely the case (and in fact we see it first-hand on many occasions), because to do so would run the risk of his dads taking him out of public school, and that, to him, is worse.
Lincoln beginning to view this aspect of his childhood (the isolation but also the over-protectiveness and overbearing attitude more generally) for what it is is why Matt's intros have recently shifted from "schooled at home" to "schooled in prison", in addition to pretty directly saying that high school was like heaven compared to his home life (in episode 40), and I don't think Lincoln is even remotely in the wrong for looking back at his isolation and thinking "hey, even if you had good intentions, that was kind of fucked up actually, and I need to distance myself from you for my own sake."
Not that Lincoln wanting freedom from his overbearing dads is a new thing! I mean apart from what one can logically infer from Lincoln convincing Grant to let him go to public school, Matt does drop a bunch of telling details here and there such as Lincoln's favorite sound being "the silence of being home alone and free". It's just that now is when these feelings are finally starting to come to the surface.
It is also something that Lincoln naturally would hold against both Grant and Marco, because they are both aware of and responsible for this aspect of his upbringing (whether Marco acted actively or as an enabler in the matter notwithstanding- though I would look no further than both Grant and Marco getting red cards the one time they tried letting Lincoln play soccer with other kids to observe how that family dynamic plays out), hence feeling the need to cut himself off from the both of them in order to set a long-overdue boundary. That said, to be honest with you, I really don't think he's actually all that upset with Marco, and would mostly just like to see him again.
If the events of the Titanic help to ease any aspect of Lincoln's frustration, it would be this one. Not in the sense that it magically makes what Lincoln went through growing up okay, but it does still recontextualize Grant and Marco's degree of overbearingness and (part of) why they are how they are, and I absolutely think that Lincoln would have sympathy for that.
So, where does that leave us?
Part 4/4: What remains (+ the case study of Scary)
"But baba," you say, "Grant and Marco are not just their mistakes! They've both done so many things right as parents, and they love Lincoln more than anything!"
I turn to you, tears in my eyes. "I know," I say, "I know, but that does not contradict or erase the fact that they have inadvertently hurt Lincoln in many, many ways, and he has a right to be upset with them, and express that, and set boundaries if he feels the need to."
You sigh. "So do you think Grant is a good dad or a bad one?" you ask.
I shake my head. "He's just... He's just a dad. A dad who's had a rough swing of things from the beginning. He never meant to hurt Lincoln, and I truly believe he's got a good heart, but I want to see him try harder. I need to see him try harder than he currently is to better himself, for Lincoln's sake as much as his own."
Is... More or less how I feel. I absolutely agree that as a parent Grant obviously gives a shit, and my intention here is absolutely not to say "hey actually, Grant is awful!"
As I mentioned at the very beginning of this essay, however, collectively I have found over the course of the season that Lincoln's trauma and struggles have gone severely understated and undermined, sometimes to the point of even turning him into the bad guy or depicting him as acting dramatic for a decision that I think was very brave of him, actually. So... It does feel necessary to me to point out that, as much as I care about Grant and recognize that he's suffered immensely too, he's still made a lot of mistakes over the course of the season, and still has a lot of room to grow as a person.
As things currently are, I would not blame Lincoln if he did not forgive Grant by the end of the season. Do I think that's what's gonna happen? No lol.
If you'll excuse a mini side-tangent, because for now I don't really want to make this a separate post, the mid-season evolution of Lincoln and Scary's relationship is actually a great case study for Lincoln's capacity for forgiveness, in addition to his inability to give up on people:
Tony Pepperoni's murder is, I would argue, an attack against Lincoln most personally (relative to the other teens). Aside from Lincoln having the strongest pacifistic tendencies of the group, it's in his home, it's in front of Marco, as established in the 3rd section Tony Pepperoni, by virtue of having been over for dinners at the Li-Wilson household before, is someone Lincoln knows more personally than the other teens and one of the only people in his life he could have possibly approximated to a friend. Most importantly though, Scary goes behind Lincoln's back in letting Willy out and disclosing the location of the party, and that is a significant breach of trust.
So Lincoln kicks Scary out of the house (and more or less out of the group by extension) because protecting the others from her is the most important thing at that point in time (sound familiar?). For the next bit, Lincoln's behavior towards Scary becomes a juggling act of keeping a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't cause more harm (and yes, it's also when they are meanest with each other), but also keeping a close eye on her to look after her (a notable example of this being that he doesn't leave her behind in the hall of mirrors, even when it would have been easier and perhaps even "beneficial" to do so in the context of the anchor quest).
And yet despite all the mutual hostility, Lincoln without question also fights the hardest to get Scary back. He breaks the pick as a sign of trust (and as Freddie put it: "that's love babeeey") and to show her she's welcome back in the group, follows through on this decision despite the fact that it creates a temporary rift between him and the others (Normal and Taylor) who oppose her return (perhaps a good time to also say as a reminder that Lincoln was the most against letting Willy out in the first place), breaks a door down to protect her from Willy even when everyone else in the house treats him as crazy for doing so, refuses to fight Scary when she goes on the offense, and hugs her through a god damn eldritch blast because he can't let her leave and hurt more people but still cares about her to the point that he would literally choose to die before hurting her or giving up on fighting for her. Like, if that's not love and forgiveness, I don't fucking know what is. This in addition to him encouraging the others to go easy on her and otherwise looking out for her past that point.
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So do I think Lincoln Li-Wilson has it in him to forgive Grant in spite of it all? That is a resounding yes from me. Will the events of the Titanic facilitate this if only by painting Grant's situation in a more sympathetic light and showcasing some of his virtues? Totally, I mean, there's a reason Anthony decided to make the arc go this way. But will I be a bit disappointed if this forgiveness comes without any major growth on Grant's part? Also. Also yes yeah.
MM. I DON'T REALLY KNOW HOW TO END THIS ONE TBH. Heh. Well, thank you for one thing, for taking the time to read a post this long. If you're reading this not too long after I posted it I am most definitely pacing around rn going "oh god they hate it!" but uh. Well that's a me problem lol. Anyways, I hope this proves to be at least somewhat insightful? ...Yeah no apart from that I really am struggling to end this properly and honestly I'm real sleepy lol so I'll just say again (whether you agree with the points listed here or not) THANKS FOR HEARING ME OUT Y'ALL AND TAKE CARE.
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red-pill-to-swallow · 7 months
Text
Doing your part in a relationship
Hey babes,
it’s Monday – a new, fresh week and the ultimate opportunity to make some changes.
I don’t know why it feels so much better to start a new routine on a Monday than it does on a random Wednesday.
I took some time after I posted my last two posts and really thought about the relationship dynamic between my man and me.
I thought about changes that I would like to make and what could help us to become a better couple.
Honestly, I was pretty shocked after all my thinking because it turns out that my man is the rock in this relationship and I am not sure why he is still sticking around when he could probably do so much better.
But let me explain:
I gave up working in my full-time job around January 2023 and have been home ever since then.
My man was aware that I was totally burned out from my job and offered me that I could stay at home and take care of the household chores.
Previously we used to split the chores around the house roughly 50/50. It was very fair and in some weeks he did more than me and some weeks I did more than him, like it’s in every relationship.
I would say that I am fairly good at housekeeping. I know how to cook, how to clean and how to do laundry.
However – I never before was responsible for everything. From going grocery shopping and planning meals to cleaning the bathrooms every week – suddenly all of this was on me.
I struggle really bad with organizing myself, this was one of the reasons why I was so burned out from my previous job, and I started slacking.
I would do the laundry one day and take three days before I started folding it. My man literally had no underwear one time and flipped out because that’s obviously disgusting and instead of improving – I started to get mad at him.
It wasn’t only the laundry, it also began affecting my cooking – which I loved doing before – and I would start making only frozen meals or just serving cold meat cuts with bread.
We started fighting a lot more because my man was sad, that instead of relaxing at home he would need to help me with my chores – after a full workday.
I had my epiphany a few weeks ago (when I made this blog) and realized that my man has every right to be mad at me. He does his job. I am not.
So, let’s see – my man works really though hours. He leaves the house early in the morning and comes home in the early evening. He’s usually stressed because his job is very demanding and he is responsible for a lot of people.
Imagine coming home to your girlfriend, who’s staying at home, and almost nothing is done. The fridge isn’t restocked, the floor is dirty and there is no food. After your shower you realize that you have no fresh underwear because your girlfriend didn’t wash any.
I would flip out too.
My behavior was/is borderline disrespectful and I am honestly ashamed because of it. I would have broken up with me if I was him.
But here we are – still together and I don’t plan on dodging this second chance.
I think many girls that want the lifestyle of a spoiled girlfriend or a stay at home girlfriend don’t realize how hard it is to organize a whole household on your own.
Yes, there might be some men out there that are so rich that they don’t mind employing staff to help around the house, but I don’t think that this is achievable for a woman in her twenties without having various high value connections in the right circles. At least I don’t have those connections.
I am responsible for keeping the house clean, making food and going grocery shopping. That takes maybe 5 hours of my day and the rest of the time I can do whatever I want.
My man only wants to come home to a clean, organized house with a stocked fridge and possibly a hot meal on the stove.
Honestly – he is the one that is working his ass off every day, not me.
The worst is, that I even started to neglect my appearance. I used to shave every second day and that slowly progressed to only once a week. I used to color my hair religiously and worked out at least three times a week.
Now I haven’t touched up my hair in over three months, my roots are disgusting and I am very ashamed because of it. I mean, even though my man pays for my beauty appointments – I couldn’t get my ass up.
However, I cleaned our whole house today. From the bottom to the top. It’s spotless. I did laundry and went grocery shopping and I made a plan on how to maintain all of those things.
I won’t share the plan just yet because I want to make sure that I can actually follow it before I share it with you.
What should you take with you after reading this rant?
Be careful that you’re always a responsible partner. Don’t be like me. If you’re telling your partner that you plan on doing something – actually follow through and do it. Don’t disappoint them all the time.
Make sure that you acknowledge what they do for you and thank them for it every once in a while.
It is unattractive to be lazy and not being able to keep up with your standards. It’s unfair to your partner to let yourself go and they have every right to be upset about it.
Think before you speak and start an argument. Are you really right? Is it worth to start an argument about something that is your responsibility?
I mean, my man made it clear in the beginning: If I want to stay at home and live a cozy life – I have to take care of the house while he works and provides for us both.
He does his part of the agreement. Every single day.
I’ve only done my part of the agreement when I felt like it and that is not okay. But I am changing and I know that he has already forgiven me for all the hassle.
See you soon
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geekedoutbunny · 1 year
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I liked your shiva headcanon story. May i request a one-shot with Shiva as a husband along with his wives pls? 🙏
Shiva x Spouse! Reader Oneshot - The Married Life
Ooooo~! My first official Shiva ask, so exciting!!
Thank you for sending in this request!! I'll try and give this fic justice!! Hopefully, it's to your liking!!
MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT
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You were in your own separate room, you were reading a book, the windows were opened wide to let in the warm summer air into your room. The sun was high, and the birds were chirping, it was so beautiful here in Svarga Loka, the flowers were big and full, and the animals were always oh so kind. You were deep into your story, when your door was opened.
You looked up and seen Parvati, she was the sweetest of the wives. You smiled kindly at her, watching her timid form creep into your room. You silently went back to your story, listening to her shuffle around the room silently. She always came to your room for peace and quiet, this household wasn't exactly quiet, but it was peaceful. She usually came to your room to work on a new clothing project that she's been working on.
However, that silence won't usually last for more than two hours, until Durga and Kali would come storming in. They were the more chaotic wives, Durga was a warrior with high honor but she was very loud and aggressive. Kali was more of a mischievous devil, she liked causing issues within the house sometimes. You sighed, closing your book, knowing that reading time was over.
"Yes, Durga?" You asked her patiently. She stomped her staff on the ground. "I be looking for Shiva!! Where is our husband!?" She asked, her English was rather broken, having grown up in the mountains. You looked at her for a moment, thinking of where Shiva could be. "Maybe he's in the garden?" You suggested, she thought over your words and she nodded in agreement. "VERY WELL THEN!!" She shouted, before she slammed the door.
Kali was peeking her head in, nearly gotten it smashed in the harsh slam and you could here her bickering through the door. "HEY!! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME!?" She shouted. "NO TIME FOR FIGHT!!! WE MUST FIND HUSBAND!!" Durga shouted back, you listened to their footsteps fade away and you sighed. You then looked at the closet door with a tired stare.
"You can come out now, Shiva." You said, the door opened and out jumped an excited Shiva. "WHOO!!! THEY ALMOST FOUND ME, DID YOU SEE THAT!? DID YA!? DID YA!? DID YA!?" He excitedly shouted as he bounced around. You shook your head at him. "Why do you always hide in my room during hide n' go seek?" You asked him. He stopped jumping around and he looked over at you. "BECASUE!! THEY'LL NEVER GUESS TO LOOK HERE!!" He shouted as he spread his arms out.
You shook your head at him and Parvati sighed. The door suddenly slammed opened and a angry Durga was seen standing there with a ditzy Kali behind her. "I KNEW IT!!! YOU BE HIDDING HERE!!!" She shouted, Shiva stared at her with a fearful look, before he tried to come up with some half ass excuse. "N-N-NO!! I WASN'T!! I'D NEVER HIDE HEEEREEE!!!" He screamed as Durga jumped at him, ready to catch him, but he ran off coming toward you. Your eyes widen and you picked up your items as quickly as possible, but you weren't fast enough.
Shiva jumped on you, causing you to shriek, he then picked you up and held you up like a shield. "DURGA, WAIT LISTEN!! YOU WOULDN'T TACKLE POOR, SWEET, LITTLE (Y/N) WOULD YOU!?" He shouted, a sinister yet fearful smirk on his face. Durga continued to charge, a prideful smirk on her face. "OF COURSE I WOULD, PAVATI IS THE CUTE ONE AFTER ALL!!" You stared at her offended while Shiva looked around frantically for Parvati, but in her space was an outline of where she used to be.
. . . 'THAT LITTLE TRAIDTOR!!!' Both you and Shiva thought at the same time, but you didn't have much time for anything else, because Durga lunged at you both tackling you both in the ground. You both shouted in complaints, but Durga didn't care, Kali tipped over, a cat like grin on her face. "I WANNA DOG PILE TOO!!" She shouted before she jumps onto the pile. Parvati peeked into the room, a cute little smile on her face. "I love my family." She spoke.
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MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT
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reashot · 9 months
Text
To celebrate my mother day's Fic for reaching 100 likes and reblog. I can finally show y'all what the Arc kids are supposed to look like and who they are for the sequel:
https://www.tumblr.com/reashot/717409273449234432/happy-mothers-day-feat-jaunes-future-children?source=share
Dusk Belladonna
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Gender:♀️
Age: 10.
Semblance: Invisibility (she can made her self invisible for few seconds.)
Weapon: N/A. (She doesn't have or want one.)
Favorite foods: Anything with fish but prefers Tuna.
Likes: Mommy, Daddy, Being alone.
Dislikes: Dogs, crowds, stranger.
Character Desc:
Dusk Belladonna is the daughter Blake and Jaune which means she is also the daughter of both human and Faunus. In her timeline Human and Faunus achieved true equality and mutual respect with one another. It was not easy and although Dusk herself does not know the sacrifice needed to achieve it, even she knows that it's something to be cherished and protected. Quiet, reserved and preferring the company of close associates. She is still expected to one day lead Menagerie and all of Faunuskind. A decision that she is also unaware of. But her parents are against it. Instead wanting her to enjoy her childhood for as long as she can before the fated day.
Scarlett Rose-Arc.
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Gender: ♀️
Age: 17.
Semblance: Petal Storm. (An upgraded form of Ruby's Semblance.)
Weapon: Crescent Rose MK. 20. (A.K.A. the Geneva Violator.)
Favorite foods: Strawberry Shortcake.
Likes: Spending time with family, weapons, fighting.
Dislikes: Bully, Bugs, Rainy day.
Character Desc:
Scarlett like Ruby is both a powerful fighter and a genius weapon inventor. Her weapon is the Crescent Rose MK. 20. A Scythe, Voulge, grenade launcher, assault riffle and sniper rifle combination weapon. In practice such a weapon should not be able to work but she and Ruby managed to made it work. This essentially turns her into a one woman army. But even though she’s a formidable warrior she still not yet able to beat her older brother Vermillion in a fight. Something which annoys her.
Victor Arc (formerly a Schnee)
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Gender: ♂️
Age: 20.
Semblance: Glyph. (Has been shown able to summon a small army worth of Grimm.)
Weapon: Myrtenaster,
Favorite Foods: Sushi.
Likes: Seeing her mother dead, his little sister, cute things. (In that order.)
Dislikes: His mother, Atlas, Incompetent people. (himself)
Character Desc:
Victor Schnee or now known as Victor Arc was once a former Scion of the Schnee Household. Is the son of Jaune Arc and although he hates to admit it, he is also the son of Weiss Schnee. In his timeline the world is broken in every sense of the word. In his world. War has engulfed Remnant. And the scale of destruction is beyond comprehension. Continents shattered, sea boiled over, even the very air turned against you, All courtesy of the Superweapon created by the SDC. Of course many tried to stop the war from happening and all failed, Even Jaune Schnee died trying to stop it. His dead however is proven to be the catalyst for the tragedy. After his death something broke inside of Weiss. Despaired and Enraged by her husband’s death. Weiss reorganized the Kingdom of Atlas into the Atlesian Empire and declared war on everyone. With Victor serving as her right hand man. Working under her Victor is responsible for many of the Empire’s victory and her atrocity. He himself is directly responsible for numerous warcrimes and even genocide against the Faunus. Victor is also credited for killing Ruby Rose and for capturing Blake. Back home in Atlas he was hailed as hero for this feats. It’s only until much later that he regretted his action. And came to hate his own mother so far as to wanting her dead. While she's the one that broke the world, he still blame himself for helping her doing it.
Aurum Arc
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Gender: ♂️
Age: 30-40.
Semblance: Ignite. (He is able to heat up the surface of any object he touch. If you seen the hot knife video on YouTube it’s pretty much like that.)
Weapon: Prominence Flame. (A Greatsword of the big-ass variety.)
Favorite foods: Homecooked meal. (he ain’t picky.)
Likes: Justice, protecting innocents, helping people.
Dislikes: Injustice, Villain, Laziness.
Character Desc:
As the oldest of the 12 sibling, Aurum is also born the weakest among his siblings. Born prematurely many did not expect him to survive childhood. But he refused to give up. Motivated by stories of warriors of old and the story of his father. He continues pushing his limit. And to the surprise of everyone he not only survive past childhood but he actually starts growing taller and stronger compared to other children his age. So strong in fact that in the age of 15 he managed to kill a Dragon Grimm. By the age of 17 he joined the Arc Knights. And in the age 20 rose through the rank and become the youngest captain of the group. A rank that he still hold to this day. Despite his achievement however he still found himself lacking behind his father and he made a promise that he will surpass the Grandmaster, Jaune Arc himself.
Vermillion Rose-Arc.
???
Scarlett's older brother will finally make his true debut in the next fic. So till then just wait my lovely readers. You will be mildly surprised.
And if there's anything you want to ask just leave a message, I'll try to answer it as best as I can.
And do tell me which one is your favorite?
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
Note
Im crying, screaming, throwing up. Leah, you’re putting your whole ass pussy into these updates. I can’t wait for the next update.
Bro. The way I literally spent six hours writing this yesterday. Six! I couldn’t stop. I just had to get it out. Anyway, as always—here’s the Terms Of Endearment Masterlist
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Dot was a smart little girl. She knows when things aren't right. She knows when Bob pulls up in a driveway that isn't Jakes that something is wrong. With her little heart already broken enough from her traumatic pick up from daycare, but when she sees a woman standing out on the front veranda that isn't you, her bottom lip quivers. Where were you?
“Where's Mamma?” Dot asked as she came to from her nap in her booster seat, Bob felt his heart break inside his chest because how do you tell a two year old that their mother is in the hospital? 
“Mama’s gonna be back soon Dotty.” God Bob couldn't handle all this, he had no idea how you did it for so long without crying out for help. “Thanks for taking her on such short notice.” Bob is far too rattled for Chelsea Fitch to be comfortable with. “Jakes probably harassing the emergency department staff as we speak trying to get answers and Rooster was already there so–” 
“She's more than welcome for as long as needed.” Chelsea makes her way down the drive to where Bob is fishing Dot out of her booster seat. “She looks so upset–” Chelsea sighs. “Hi darling girl, it's okay baby come here.” With one swift motion, Bob was picking up the little girl everyone had gathered around to protect and handing her over to Reubans wife. Dot immediately snuggled into her shoulder, she's so tired and emotionally exhausted. There's only so much a two year old can take before they begin to shut down. “You know much about how she's doing?” 
“Nope, Jake fainted in the parking lot when he was on the phone with Rooster.” Bob relayed all that he knew as he unclipped the booster seats from the back of Penny's car to leave at the Finch household. “I didn't get a chance to ask much when I picked up the phone, just told Rooster we’d get there as soon as possible.”
“And by we you mean Amilia–” Bob just smiled, he caught the tone Chelsea used as she held Dot on her hip. Standing in the driveway as Chase clung to her leg. Bob Floyd loved the fact he wasn't the only one with a sibling he wasn't overly attached to. 
“Yes ma’am–” 
“Don't ma’am me Bob, I work for a living.” Bob couldn't keep his head from spinning on top of his shoulders if he tried. He couldn't keep up with the sharp wit and dry humour of the Australians he was suddenly in close vicinity to. 
“Sorry, sorry–force of habit.” Bob knew he should probably head over to Jakes and get some essentials sorted. It hadn't necessarily been a task bestowed upon him verbally, but Bob knew that he should, to do what he could within his means. “I'm gonna head off, I'll swing by Jakes and get some of Dot's things, stop by, then head over to the hospital.” 
“Can you tell my sister that for someone who's been in the states for less than three days on a soul searching quest or whatever bullshit she's on, she sure has a knack for finding trouble.” Chelsea chuckled as Bob just pressed his lips together in a thin line and nodded silently. “Come on bub’s let's get you two inside.” 
“Thanks again Chels–” Bob thanked Chelsea just one more time before he was heading off, leaving Odette Dolan in the Fitch’s capable hands while everything else seemed to fall through the cracks. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“You feeling alright?” Amilia asked as she drove Jake in silence to the hospital. There wasn’t any music playing through the speakers this time. Just pure silence filled the cab of her sister’s Sante Fe. 
“I’m sorry you got caught up in all this.” Jake swerved the question Amilia had asked as he turned to take in Amilias profile. Fuck she was real pretty. “It was incredibly unfair of me to ask you to get involved.” 
“Your niece is a real cutie.” Amilia, still focusing on the road ahead, smiled as she flicked on her indicator, turning into the Miramar Base Hospital. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to live with myself if I didn’t do something.” 
“Yeah—“ Jake sighed, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “It definitely feels like that.” 
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have your sister and her ex been separated?” Jake just looked at Amilia, who for a split second turned her head to look back at Jake. “I don’t mean to pry.” Jake took notice to the way Amilias voice sounded softer in her regret to ask. “And by all means man you don’t have to tell me shit—just tell me to shut up and my lips are sealed.” Jake couldn’t handle the way Amilia turned her head back to the road ahead, she was so genuinely concerned about what was going on to people she’d never met before. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry—it’s too personal.” 
“No, no you're good.” Jake cleared his throat, thinking about how to explain your circumstances. “Emotionally I’d say ever since the first time he laid his hands on her.” Jake remarked, balling his fist at the thought as he clenched his jaw. “But uh, she ran out on him a few months back, turned up on my doorstep beaten half to death with enough alcohol in her system that I would have believed her if she said she identified as a distillery.” Jake chuckled, it hurt to make peace with the fact this had been your life, your rock bottom. “I promised her if she stayed here then she’d be safe, that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her yet here we are—“ Jake finally turned his head back to where Amilia sat in the driver's seat, looking for a park. “I don't know how to keep her safe.” 
Amilia didn’t respond straight away, the air was too heavy around her, she could feel the weight of Jake's world on her shoulders. No one deserved to feel that kind of guilt. It wasn’t his fault, what that Jaidyn guy had done wasn’t a reflection on Jake. He was only one person, how much could he honestly do? 
“The next dude that tries to kiss my fucking foreheads gonna cop a head-butt instead so we both end up hurt and confused.” Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he looked at Amilia, this crazy, random woman he’d met that same morning felt like an extension of himself. Amilia had kissed him in the parking lot of his niece's day care not half an hour ago. Why had he not ended up copping a headbutt. He surely had a headache, but that was from smacking his head on the ground when he lost all control. 
“Can’t say that doesn’t sound like a good strategy—“ There’s a few moments of silence as Amilia gives up circling the full car park and just decides it’s probably best to drop Jake off at the emergency department. She hits the curb slightly and Jake cringes at the thought of the gutter rash her rims were gonna end up with. “Jesus—“ 
“Sorry.” It’s not hard to notice the embarrassment laced in Amilias tone as she puts the car in park. “I’m still getting used to the whole left side steering and right side roadway.” 
“How long have you been in the states for?” Jake asks, he’s reluctant to get out of the car because he knows the second he does he’s gonna lose his mind. Amilia Fisher seemed to keep Jake level headed. He needed that in all this, a guiding light. A lighthouse.
“Considering I’ve lost track of what day it is from the jet lag and copious amounts of caffeine I’ve been pumping I’d guest about three days, give or take a few hours.” 
“Three days and you're slashing people’s tyres!?” Jake genuinely laughs for the first time all day. He feels the butterflies in his stomach take flight when Amilia matches his energy and laughs with him, nodding. 
“I didn’t know what else to do!?” As the laughter drifted off into nothing, Amilia let herself settle into the back of her car seat. “You should probably get out now.” 
“I don’t think I can go in there.” Jake held back tears, he wasn’t ready to accept he’d let you down. “Can’t see her like that.” He wasn’t ready to face you. “I fucked up, I can’t—“ 
“Hey, listen.” Amilia cooed as Jake tried his best to hold himself together, he was falling apart at the seams. “Just breathe.” A gentle hand with manicured nails that make Jake's skin rise with goosebumps reaches out to cup his cheek. “She really needs you, but it’s okay to feel like you don’t have your shit together.” 
“You got anywhere to be?” Jake asked, it was his way of asking Amilia to stay. She just shook her head, she knew what he meant. 
“Been the longest fucking day ever and I could really use a beer, but I got absolutely nowhere else to be.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Bradley hated hospitals. He’d never been one to associate hospitals with good memories. It’s where he’d gone with his mum when he’d found out he’d died in a training accident and It was where he said goodbye to his mum one last time before she left to be with her best friend again. 
Now, as he sat in the waiting room tapping his foot on the ground impatiently waiting for someone, anyone to give him an update on how you were—he couldn’t help his mind from wondering. What if you were about to join the ever growing list of people Bradley Bradshaw had lost in his life? 
“Bradshaw!” Jake bellowed out as he came barreling through the front doors of the emergency department, Amilia in toe. “Where is she?” Rooster stood to meet Jake in an embrace that put all others to shame. Brother in arms. Jake wraps his arms around Bradley as Bradley took him in tight. Both silently silencing their painful sobs in each other's embrace. “Where is she?” 
“In surgery I think?” Rooster explained. “They wouldn’t tell me much because I still haven’t handed back the paperwork they asked me to fill out on her behalf.” It’s when Jake steps back that Bradley sees Amilia standing there. She’s a little on the short side, and by a little he means a lot. Respectfully Jake and Bradley tower over her. It wouldn’t be hard to lose her in a crowd. Amilia Fisher was definitely someone you’d tie a helium balloon to just to keep an eye on her. 
“Who’s this?” Bradley asks, he thinks he knows. She looks a little familiar. Jake just steps aside, allowing Amilia to outstretch her hand to shake Bradley’s. “God You look like someone I know—“
“Uh, Chelsea Fitch is my sister, you both apparently work with my brother in law.” It all clicks in Rooster's mind when he hears the mention of Payback's wife. “Amilia, Amilia Fisher.” 
“You’re the one who took the video this morning?” Bradley smirks, he can see the look on Jake’s face clear as day. The guys hooked. 
“That’s me.” Amilia confirms, Jakes just crossing his arms across his chest as Rooster sends him an all knowing look. He’d fallen in love at first sight with you, what was so hard to believe about the same happened to Jake Seresin. 
“She slashed Jaidyn’s tires too, made sure he couldn’t leave before Bob and I got there.” Jake mentioned and Bradley just raised his eyebrows in shock. 
“No shit?” 
“Bob took Odette to Paybacks place, he called me while I was on my way over—said he wouldn’t be too far away? Cyclone called off training for the rest of the week and sent everyone home.” Jake mumbled as he yawned, stretching his back out as he did so. 
“Yeah he said something about not being able to have people flying multi million dollar fighter jets around while there’s an internal investigation going on.” Bradley sighed. He was exhausted. “Where’s Jaidyn now?” 
“On his way to the station, I called the cops—they took him off in cuffs at the daycare.” Amilia explained as she looked around. “This a Military Hospital or General Public?” Bradley just looked at Jake who shrugged his shoulders back at him. Both men decided they needed to take a seat. Sitting side by side as Bradley handed Jake the half filled in paperwork. 
“How bad is it?” Jake asked under his breath. Bradley just pressed his lips together, he knew Jake had taken notice of the blood that stained Bradley’s hands and uniform. He knew what the answer was already. He just needed to hear Rooster say it. 
“Medic said her jaw was broken before we even got here, he must have really laid into her because I could hardly recognise her.” It absolutely killed Bradley to relay this information, he could see from the expression on Jake’s face alone that it killed him to know. But they needed to share each other’s heartbreak to get through this. “She’s tough though, never stopped fighting back—“ 
“We let her down.” Jake stated as a matter of fact. He was pissed at Jaidyn for everything he’d done to you but more importantly he was pissed at himself for allowing him to get close enough to her you. 
“I know.” Braldey swallowed the lump in his throat as Jake filled in everything he knew about you from a lifetime of friendship. It didn’t seem like enough though as he sat there, looking around to see if anyone was coming to update them. “I know we did.” 
Amilia opted to shout the two naval aviators who looked far too out of place a packet of chips from the vending machine. She knew well enough that they weren’t hungry, but they needed something in their system. Handing over the packet of chips, one each as she looked down at Bradley and Jake, gesturing for them to take the bags of air. 
“My favourite is cheese and onion but I can’t speak for Lays, wouldn’t know what’s good or bad here so I thought I’d play it safe with the original.” 
Jake just took Amilia in for all she was worth, Bradley could practically see the heart eyes he was sending over as he grazed Amilias outstretched hand and took the packet of chips. 
“Thanks—“ Jake cooed as Amilia came to sit beside him. Bradley hummed to himself when she opened her own packet, offering Jake a few from her packet in the hopes he’d share his with her in return. 
He did. 
Bradley couldn't help but to smile, Jake deserved to fall in love. He deserved someone who was as willing, kind, and above all as annoying as he was. Amilia Fisher gave off that vibe.
He just wished you were here to witness it too. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Admiral Beau Simpson had never felt more like a failure than he did in the moments he sat behind his desk recording on a blank disc the seven minute assault that had left you dangerously close to death. He had never seen such a violent act against a woman. But what else he saw amongst the beating was bravery—
“I need someone to contact the local authorities, this guy is an animal.” Cyclone explained as he tried to peel his eyes away from the monitor, but he couldn’t. He knew he owed it to you to sit there and watch what he’d let happen by not stepping in sooner. “Why are you still here?” 
“Sorry sir.” One of the administrators that Cyclone had called into his office babbled out as he ran to make sure that the request of the admiral would be conducted. Almost as soon as he had left, Pete Mitchell was stepping into his office, wearing a confused expression. 
Like this day couldn’t get any fucking worse for Beau Simpson. 
“Why have you suspended all training until further notice and sent my team home?” Maverick asked, leaning over Cyclone's desk. “What’s going on—“
“You need to get down to the Base Hospital, Lieutenant Bradshaw is there with Y/n.” Cyclone could barely stomach enough courage to say what he needed to say. He made himself sick. “Allocations were made, they were dismissed when they should have been properly adhered to.” He sighed in disapproval of his own actions. Leaning back in his chair as he looked at the man who was in all aspects a better man than he was in the moment. “Felix was taken to hospital about two hours ago and I’ve opened an internal investigation into the situation. Your team is grounded until further notice, Captain.” Pete frowned as he took in what Admiral Simpson had just told him. He had been wondering where Rooster was, where Hangman had gone off to and why Bob was suddenly missing in action. 
He paused for a moment, wondering if what his initial thought was truly what had been the case. 
“Her ex got to her did he?” Maverick pressed his lips together as Cyclone begrudgingly nodded in conformation. “I told you when I found out he first got reposted that something would happen if you didn’t keep an eagle eye on that son of a bitch, didn’t I?” 
It was true. When Jaidyn had first showed up in North Island, Jake had asked if Mav could possibly pull some strings. He tried to warn Admiral Simpson what would happen, but his predictions fell on deaf ears. Maverick couldn’t tell at the time if Cyclone just didn’t want to know, was too self centred to get involved or if he just didn’t care enough about his personnel to do anything about it. 
“The only reason he took up this posting, Sir, was to get at her—I told you that and what did you do?”
Cyclone just closed his eyes—He knew what he had done. Nothing. If anyone had failed you it was Beau Simpson. “You told me to fall back in line, told me that if Felix had a problem she could come to you, but when she did what did you do?” Maverick hissed—he swore with the pressure building on his teeth as he clenched them tight he was about to break at least four. “You sent her away.” 
“I was just following protocol—“ 
“When has following protocol ever worked in the case of domestic violence, Sir.” Maverick left it at that as he made his way over to the door. Speaking over his shoulder before Pete Mitchell went to explain to the remaining members of his Dagger crew what was going on. “It’s people like you who make the system so flawed it does more damage than good.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
The sun had well and truly gone down by the time Bradley and Jake saw a doctor heading anywhere towards their immediate vicinity. Amilia had fallen asleep beside where Jake sat, her head felt natural on his shoulder and he, in every sense of the word, hadn’t had the heart to move her. 
Bob had shown up an hour ago. He’d packed up a bunch of Odette stuff and dropped it off at Paybacks place before he made his way over. He’d filled him in on what he knew and told him as soon as he knew more he’d call. 
“Wonder how long it’s gonna take for someone to put us out of our misery.” Rooster mumbled, his eyelids were heavy and his feet felt numb from sitting in the hospital waiting room chair for what felt like an eternity. 
“Probably won’t be for a while still, god only knows we deserve to sit and stew in our own self pity.” Jake replied, he was just as tired as Rooster. Amilia snorted as she stirred on Jake’s shoulder. 
“You two sound fucking pathetic.” Amile Fisher had the energy of a feral princess. She was wholesome and you could definitely take her home to meet your mother if you wanted to. But she drank tequila and bourbon of any sort straight. She;d square up with a grown man without hesitation and have no problem putting someone in their place. Amilia was all about balance, and right now? Jake Seresin was all kinds of out of balance. 
“Thought you were asleep?” Jake turned his head to where Amila still had her head resting on Jake’s shoulder. 
“The sound of your insecurities woke me up.” She mumbled, looking up at Jake through tired and hooded eyes. “You aren’t responsible for this, neither is Rooster, so cut the self loathing crap out.” 
“Yes ma’am—“ Bob's ears pricked up at the sound of Jake sounding off like an aviator falling in line. He had a feeling what was coming next if Amilia was anything like her sister Chelsea. 
“Ew, don’t call me ma’am, I work for a living.” Yep, he called it. Jake felt his heart skip a beat as he leaned in to kiss Amilias forehead gently, wondering if she’d follow through with her promise to headbutt the next guy who did so—she didn’t, Jake was simply met with a warm hum. 
“Y/n Y/l/n?” There was a doctor calling your name as Braldey stood up in a frantic attempt to immediately find out more. 
“That’s us!” He said a little too loud. The doctor just made his way over to where Rooster stood. “We’re here for Fe—how is she?” The doctor standing before Bradley just looked at him blankly. He had nothing good to say.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, it was pretty touch and go for a little while but we managed to get her stable enough to hopefully see some real progress come through in the next couple of weeks.” 
“What’s the prognosis?” Jake asked, Amilia had since set up right, Jake wasn’t going to admit he missed her touch. So he pretended that he didn’t mind.
“We’ve had to wire her jaw shut but she should still be able to talk, she’ll be able to move her lips, just won’t be able to eat or drink so we’ll get her set up on a liquid drip the second she’s up.” The doctor explained and Jake wanted to vomit. 
“She suffered a pretty serious spleen rupture, most likely caused by the blunt force trauma sustained around the area so we did have to remove it entirely—she’ll have to take a course of antibiotics every few months to ward of certain bacteria, living without that particular organ puts her at higher risk for life-threatening infections but you can live without it.” Doctor Sullivan explained as the waiting room reminded silent “She’ll receive a booster vaccine for pneumococcus, and for meningococcus and haemophilus influenzae type B in two weeks.” 
“Holy shit—“ Amilia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, this was serious. 
“Can we see her?” Bradley asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“She’s being brought down from surgery now, we’ll get her set up in a room and we’ll send someone to grab you when she’s ready to be seen, however, usual visiting hours are between seven and seven, Although, judging by the seriousness of Miss Y/l/n’s injuries it’s safe for me to assume we’re dealing with some sort of abuse here?”  
“Sherlock Holmes everybody.” Jake scoffed. “Listen, all due respect, but she won’t be alone for a second while she’s here.” Jake wasn’t asking the doctor to grant them a special pass, he was telling him. Doctor Sullivan simply nodded. He knew there was no reason to fight Jake on this one. They were gonna do what they wanted to do and no one was going to get in the way of that. 
“I’ll have my chief sign off on an extenuating circumstances case order and liaise with whatever investigation is currently being conducted.” Doctor Sullivan nodded. “I’ll send someone to get you all shortly.” 
“Thanks Doc, really appreciate it.” Bradley thanked Doctor Sullivan as he shook his hand, sitting down to patiently wait for the moment he could see you again. His heart had never hurt this much before. He wanted to cry but he was sure that he had nothing left in the tank. “I’m gonna kill him.” 
“Get in line.” Jake added. He was seething, his anger threatening to consume every fibre of his being. “Fuckers gonna be breathing through a tube, if I had known what he did, I would have killed him.”
“Rhett’s coming.” Bob piped up from his own seat, Rooster didn’t know who he was talking about. “He can stay with Felix while you guys sort Jaidyn out and take care of Odette.” 
“Who’s Rhett?” Rooster asked with a confused look smeared across his face. Jake answered for Bob knowing he wasn’t all that keen on airing his shit out. 
“Bob's brother.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“Get your fucking hands off me!” Jaidyn spat as he was shoved into one of the holding cells at the North Island police station. “Are you fucking kidding me!” 
“Sir, calm down—you’re being detained for an incident that occurred this morning.” 
“You mean the innocent where I had the shit best out of me!?” Jaidyn shouted at the police officer who stood behind the other side of the bars. “I was beaten—“ 
“It was a provoked attack, we have video evidence to back the charges.” The officer explained before he turned on his heels, leaving Jaidyn to sit and stew in his own thoughts about how the fuck he was going to get the hell out of this. 
“Who took the video?” Jaidyn shouted down the hall at the police officer who had nearly rounded the corner.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the identity of the woman who handed in that evidence.” Was all Jaidyn got in response before the officer had disappeared. Jaidyn knew exactly who he was talking about. 
“That fucking bitch.” Jaidyn remarked. It was the woman who stabbed his fucking tiers. He knew it. Amilia didn’t know it, but she had a target on her back as big as you did. As big as Jake and as big as Bradley. “That stupid fucking bitch—“ 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Rhett Abbott hated flying. Which was incredibly ironic considering what his brother did for a living. He sat in the middle aisle of a plane he swore looked like it came straight out of the eighties and kicked himself for dropping everything he had going for himself because of one phone call. 
Rhett didn't even ride. He was so distracted by Bob's calls that he couldn't focus. He knew if he got on the back of that bull he’d come off in a split second. Unable to hold onto whatever shot at victory he had. Rhett used to look up at night and wonder about his place in the stars, but all he seemed to do these days was look down–and worry about his place on the dirt. He was going nowhere and he knew it. 
As he turned his phone on aeroplane mode and readjusted himself, Rhett wondered if San Diago would be an escape he needed. Perhaps Bob wasn't just reaching out for help, maybe he was inadvertently extending a hand to Rhett, to pull him from the vortex that was Wabang Wyoming.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
When one of the nurses on shift had come to get Bradley and Jake, it was Amilia who thought it would be a good idea for her and Bob to let them have a moment alone with you. 
“Hey Bob, I'm kinda tired, Do you wanna come grab a coffee with me?” She asked softly, Bradley knew exactly what she was doing, so did Bob, it went straight over Jakes head though–but he didn't care all that much if Amilia wanted to be here or not, all he cared about as soon as the nurse had come and told them they could finally see you was that he got to do just that. 
“Sure.” Bob nodded, he collected his things, pocketing his phone but only after checking in to see if rhett had messaged him. Still nothing. 
“We’ll uh, catch up with you guys later.” Amilia pressed her lips together before she and Bob took off in the direction of the entrance. Leaving Bradley and Jake to face the harsh reality of jaidyn’s handy work themselves. It was probably for the best this way. 
“Oh my god.” Bradley had seen what you looked like in the janitors closet, so his reaction was nowhere near as confronting as Jakes. “He did that to her?” Jake asked, it was a stupid question he already knew the answer to as he walked closer to your bedside. “Y/n–” Seeing you like this, so fragile and broken in a god damn hospital made Jake realise the only person he let down more than you was your daughter.
“She's gonna be out for a few hours still.” The nurse spoke up from her spot by the door. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can though.” Soon enough it was just Jake and Bradley staring at you as you lay sleeping, high off your face on copious amounts of painkillers in a hospital bed. Battered and bruised. Beaten nearly to death.
“I can't imagine what would have been going through her mind when she was in there.” Jake spoke quietly as he stroked the pad of his thumb across your swollen cheek. “Probably thought that no one was coming.” It was a dig at himself. 
“Cyclone said that there's footage.” Bradley spoke as he sat down in the chair beside your bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “He didn't think to check for a camera like he had in her hanger, this could be what puts him behind bars.” 
“He’d wanna hope so–” Jake hissed. “Because if I ever see that fucker again ill put him in the ground.” 
“Dot cant see her mum like this Jake.” Bradley couldn't take his eyes of you as he spoke. He was too afraid that if he did you'd stop breathing. “Look at her, she's a mess–it'll do more damage than good, to the both of them.” 
“We’ll do shifts, she needs us to be as reliable as rain in Seattle.” Jake knew where this conversation was going, so he bit the bullet before Rooster even needed to plead his case. “I know how you feel, and I know my place in all this mess.” He explained, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You decide what you wanna do and I'll follow your lead.” 
“I'm not Odette's dad, Jake.” 
“You’re the closest thing she's got to one, so you decide, if you wanna be here i'll look after Dot, if you wanna look after Dot i'll be here, but she needs someone here with her all the time.” 
“I feel like I can't breathe.” Bradley held a hand to his chest as his eyes welled with tears, Jake moved around to the side of the bed Rooster sat beside and placed a firm hand on his shoulder from behind. “She's the love of my life man, they both are.” 
“I meant what I said when I said she deserves the world Bradshaw, and if I know anyone deserving of her, I'm looking at him.” Jake recited what he’d told Bradley in the very beginning. “So we’ll both sit here, formulate a schedule, and figure out where we go from here so when Y/n wakes up, she knows that Dots all taken care of.” 
“Its gonna break her fucking heart that she won’t be able to see her.'' Bradley knew how you would react. You'd done so much to protect her and now you wouldnt even hold your daughter. “She's gonna flip.” 
“I'd rather have her flip out on us and be safe and in the care of doctors and nurses who want to help then have her traumatise her own daughter, because right now she looks like Frankenstein's bride.” 
“Don't let her hear you say that.” Bradley chuckled to himself as Jake tapped his best friend's shoulder, knowing that they were both over exhausted and struggling to stay awake. 
“I'll just tell her you said it.” Jake teased before making his way over to the other vacant chair in the corner of the room. “While she's indisposed we should start moving her shit into your house so when she's discharged you can take her and Dot home where they belong.”
“You think she’d be alright with that?” Bradley asked as he kissed the palm of your hand, holding it between his hands as he brought it up to his cheek. “And since when have you been so okay with her moving in?” Jake didn't answer straight away as he unbuttoned his flight suit, tied the arms around his waist and sat with an exaggerated sigh. 
“Since you chose her above everything else.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
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youngtomhardy · 18 days
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single no. 3 ‘kiss kiss bang bang’ is out now 💋💥
this one might be the most important part of the MM2 story. this song was born the night i died. you can literally google ‘michael medrano kiss kiss bang bang’ and find the night i conceptualized this song — and the whole era really.
grief is incredibly hard to process, especially when it’s sudden and swift. i was in the room with people i thought were going to change my life forever. i wasn’t exactly poor growing up, but my family struggled for as long as i can remember. i moved 4 times, my dad worked his ass off and we still couldn’t afford to live somewhere comfortably. this caused turmoil and constant instability in my household, which in turn led to some really traumatic times i wish i could forget.
so when you end up in this kitschy club with incredibly successful and wealthy people, you suddenly feel wow… the struggle is over. i’ll finally get to take care of my family. they’ll never have to abruptly move again or live under a landlord who won’t even fix a broken fridge. i can take care of myself and everyone i love — i can have it all. and i’m about to sign the paper that puts it all in motion.
i remember my creative director at the time kept telling me to “never forget how incredible” i am. over and over again. going as far to call me “the next weeknd”. it was in that moment, high off of a shroom pill, i knew they’d killed me. my project was dead. and before i could wrap my head around it, i found myself sitting in the corner of a dingy karaoke suite watching it all end in slow motion. in my mind, i like to pretend it was more of a penthouse suite decorated to look like a humble, midcentury modern dream. they did go all out and get the most expensive suite anyway, as they always had.
the next day, everyone goes silent on me. texts aren’t replied to anymore. resources are cut off. album plans gone. the mystical “sylvia” i’ve been told so much about had vanished. it is probably the most devastating heartbreak i’ve gone through right next to my mom initially rejecting me once i was outed… a story for another time.
so i sat down in my tiny hometown apartment. and cried. drove to literally nowhere screaming at 3 am. praying that maybe they’d come back around and save me. but no one was coming — i was in free fall. alone again and so suddenly, like a rug pulled from under me or gunshot to the head. after months of the endless spiral, i got back to working a regular part time job, hating this life i was once again trapped in. but one day, after all that grief welled up inside me, i started writing again. and writing. and writing. and writing. i’d never been so angry in my life. i’d also never been so fucking determined. and now, here we are. 3 years later. 3 singles deep into MM2. and so much has changed.
never did i think id be sitting in the middle of hollywood in my new apartment, typing this and pulling and all-nighter to get the music video out to over 100k fans listening to me every month. my little guy abel laying next to me while my partner hacks away at editing.
i might not have the deal yet. i might not have the money or the team yet. but i woke up from the nightmare one day and you were all right there in front of me. i love you all so much and i hope you love this song as much as i do. MM2 is coming and i hope you’re ready, because i finally am.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months
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Hi! Congrats on 500 followers!
Could I request prompt 30 with Javi going out of his ways to surprise Osita with a candle lit dinner at home? Javi is a great cook and very domestic/tidy in my head.
Thank you! 😍
Ugh, nonnie, this one was so cute!!! 😭💕 I 100% agree that Javi is also kind of a neat freak and a good cook!! Also this one goes out to my own personal Javi P bc my husband has put up with my grumpy ass while I go back to school this week and has done everything around the house so I can go to bed at like 8:00 every night 🥺
You Make Life Worth It
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Summary: Javi knows you've had a rough week at school, and surprises you with dinner
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: FLUFFFF, allusions to smut (bc of course), mentions of eating and drinking, mentions of alcohol, work stress, Javi just being the sweetest and wanting to make you happy bc he literally loves you so much
This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!
Part of the 500 Followers Celebration Requests!
Tired would have been a tame way to describe how you had felt the past few days. Truth be told, you were fucking exhausted. There must have been something in the air at Alma Pierce Elementary School this week- your class was even crazier than normal, you got a new student in the middle of the year, the copier and broken down on you not once, but three times, and the closest you had gotten to eating lunch was shoving half a sandwich in your mouth during the 30 seconds you had to sit down at your desk. It was safe to say, you’d been kind of a grump this week. Javi knew first hand from his mom that teaching was absolutely draining, and could tell when there were times that all you needed to do was come home and lay down on the couch before you could do anything else.  You tried your best to always have a positive outlook and not complain, but when Javi came home yesterday to find you face down at the kitchen table, asleep face down in the pile of art projects you were trying to organize, you were really going through it. 
Today had been no better than the rest of the week, but at least it was Friday. Although, this Friday felt a lot less relaxing than most, realizing on the drive home that your apartment was a disaster. You had been so tired that practically every household chore had gone neglected. Laundry was in a heap on the floor, dishes were piled in the sink, you had left things out everywhere- it really looked like a tornado had rolled through and took down everything in the apartment in its wake. Javi was always good about helping you clean around the house, but his dad had needed help re-roofing part of the horse barn, and had been over there every day after work, coming home to find you already passed out in bed, on the couch or yesterday, the kitchen table. Trudging up the stairs to your apartment, you took a deep breath as you walked down the hallway to your door, pausing as you got closer. Why was there music playing? Why did it smell so good? Javi isn’t supposed to be home for another 3 hours? The questions spun in your head as you twisted the doorknob, too exhausted to even care if it was an intruder. If it was, at least they had good music taste and were maybe making you dinner. 
As you pushed open the door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you to see that the candles were everywhere, placed all over your now spotless apartment, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence. He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless. 
“Javi… is this… what are you… what?” You stumbled over your words, tears welling behind your eyes as you felt the stress begin to melt from your body. 
“Go take a seat, dinner’s almost done.” He smiled, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear before planting another kiss on your lips and heading back to the delicious smell of whatever was in the kitchen. Turning around, you now noticed that Javi had set the table with a fresh bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase in the middle, and two beers for you at your seat. 
“You really knew it was a two beers off the get-go kinda night, huh?” You snickered, cracking open one of the cans, taking a lengthy sip sitting down in your usual spot. 
“Osita, with the week you’ve had, I probably should have just set the whole 6-pack out for you.” The both of you laughed as you propped your elbow up on the table, resting your chin in your palm as you gazed at Javi, a gentle grin growing across your face as you watched him finish up dinner and bring a plate out for each of you. “What’s that look for?” He smirked, gesturing to you as he set both your plates down, pressing a soft kiss into the top of your head before sitting down in his seat. 
“You just… Javi, you didn’t have to do all of this. It’s so nice of you. Like, so nice of you. Thank you, Jav. You’re way too good to me.” You outstretched your arm across the table, grabbing his hand, tenderly running your thumb across his skin. “I love you.” The 3 words sliding out of your mouth just as easily as the stress had slid from your dreary expression after walking into your apartment just moments ago. “Also this salmon looks so good I could cry. Oh my god, is that the risotto too? I think that you have literally ruined any other risotto for me ever because whatever you do to it is- I don’t even know. I dream about your risotto, babe. You really are too good for me.” Nodding down at the plate in front of you, eyes widening at the delicious looking food Javi had made the both of you. He laughed as you took a fork full, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as swallowed, practically moaning from how good it was. 
“Well it’s the least I can do to make up for being a shitty boyfriend this week. I felt awful that I had to help Pops and that the past few days had been so tough for you. I feel super shitty that I haven’t helped to keep the apartment clean, either, I know that stresses you out.” He shifted his eyes down to his food, frown pursing his lips, feeling guilty for not doing more to help. “But-” his demeanor began to shift as he took a bite full of food, barely finishing chewing before speaking again. “Everything should be all cleaned now, laundry’s done, even finally got around to fixing that fucking shelf in our bedroom so it doesn’t scare the shit out of us every time it falls down.” He smiled at you, the look in his eyes almost begging you to forgive him for the fact he hadn’t been there for you the past few days. 
“Damn… I don’t know Jav, I’m really gonna miss almost crapping my pants every time that collapses.” The two of you giggled, taking a few more bites of your food before the gears in your head began to turn, wondering how Javi had time to do any of the things he was talking about, let alone have time to make you this delicious dinner. “Wait, when did you do all this? How did you have time to get all this done? 
Javi shrugged, raising his eyebrows, trying his best to hold back his grin. “Told Morris that I had something I had to get done today. Left a few hours early.” 
“Javier Peña, you did not leave work early just to clean the apartment and make dinner!” You swatted at his hand across the table, trying your best to be mad at him, your sass only making him smile wider. “My couple of bad days and lack of responsibility for not cleaning up after myself is not a good reason for you to play hooky.” 
“Hey.” He paused, grabbing your hand, holding it carefully as his sweet brown eyes gazed into yours. “Before you, I had nothing to live for. I had written off the chance of ever having anything like this. But then you came into my life. I never dreamed that something as simple as coming home from work early to do laundry and cook dinner would make me so happy. But, when you’re doing it for the person you love more than anything in the world, I’d do it again and again, every goddamn day. So thank you.” Te amo, Osita. Me enamoro mil veces al día, y todas son de ti. (I love you, Osita. I fall in love a thousand times a day, each time with you.) He interlaced his fingers with yours, holding your hand up to his face, planting a tender kiss on the top of your hand. A smile stretched across your face as you sniffled, using your free hand to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks with your sleeve. 
“Te amo más (I love you more), you dork. Thanks for making me cry.” You teased, Javi giving your hand a squeeze before releasing it, letting you dry the rest of your wet face. “I still don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. Or this delicious food. You’re the best, Javi. Thank you.” 
“I’m glad you like it. I hope you saved room for dessert.” He smirked, a boyish grin growing across his face as he bit down on his lip. You raised an eyebrow at him, setting your fork down on your almost cleared plate as you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Oh really? And what’s on the menu for dessert today, chef Peña?” 
“You’ll see.” 
“Oh, I’ll see? Okay then, well-ahhhhh!” You squealed as Javi darted up from his seat, lifting you out of your chair and scooping you up in his arms, peppering kisses across your body as he carried you off towards the bedroom as you giggled and squirmed in his arms. “Does dessert come with seconds?” You asked, as he carried you down the hallway, only stopping his ticklish kisses to answer your question. 
“Baby, dessert alone is about to be a full four course meal.”  
Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed
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changingplumbob · 15 days
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Romero Household: Chapter 1, Part 4
Dia de los Muertos wraps up and we visit our friendly neighbourhood infants!
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CW: Discussions of death
Marta’s first language is Spanish so she is teaching Keira (and me) some common Spanish phrases/words Abuelo/Abuela: Grandfather/Grandmother Ay dios mio: omg equivalent Buenas noches: Good evening / Good night Carino: Term of endearment for a loved one Cuídate!: Take care De nada!: You’re welcome/no problem Lo siento: Sorry Padre: Father Por favor: Please Si: Yes Te amo: I love you
With the departure of the Fosters leaving the couple alone, Marta has broken out the face paint to adorn her and Keira. It’s another way of honouring their ancestors.
Marta: Hold still por favor
Keira: I am holding still
Marta: Shhhh, moving your lips counts
Keira: Why didn't we do this before dinner
Marta: I haven't done it for ages so I'm not sure I'm good anymore. I didn't want the dinner thrown apart by focus on my lack of painting skill. Just one more line… there! All done, I’ll take a picture to show you
Keira: Wow this looks great! You’re really going all out this year
Marta: *sighs* I felt bad for all those years Liam didn’t let me make one
Keira: I should have done more than kick his ass
Marta: Carino violence solves nothing. He's in prison for now, let's not think of him
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Keira: I’m sorry we didn’t make one at Alexander’s house, I didn’t realise what it meant
Marta: De nada. I didn’t say to you, how could you know
Keira: I suppose. But don’t let us miss it again
Marta: Si. I promise
Keira: Do you… do you think they would have liked me
Marta: I know they’re happy I’m happy but si. Padre would be happy you're active, he was to. And mama would love to talk to you about the ocean life
Keira: You think
Marta: Si. Being so close to the ocean was what she loved about Cuba. She missed it when we moved to Texas
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Keira: Well I’m glad you left for Windenburg. Even though it was because…
Marta: Everyone was gone? I didn’t have to leave after padre and mama died. I had the community still but I felt alone. I don’t feel alone anymore
Keira: I’m so glad I worked up the nerve to propose
Marta: *giggles* It’s good you did or I would have had to do something extremely romantic
Keira: I mean… you could still do something extremely romantic if you wanted?
Marta: Maybe I’m saving it for the honeymoon
Keira: Can I get a preview
The two embrace on the sofa, feeling warm and fulfilled.
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Abuelo Manuel: Did you see Rafael? She cooked the chimi to perfection. Remembered what we taught her
Padre Rafael: Si padre, she did a good job
Abuela Maria: Will you two shush, I’m trying to listen
Manuel: Corazon I think their conversation is finished
Mama Aymee: *sniffles* She looks so happy and grown up
Rafael: Ay dios mio, you’ll make me cry mi vida
Aymee: Lo siento. I just… we didn’t see our daughter for so long
Maria: You heard what that fiancé said, she’ll make sure Marta does the ofrenda now. She’s a keeper
Manuel: Do you think there will be a new generation next time we visit
Aymee: That would be nice *sniffles* even if would make me cry
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Keira: The place definitely feels full when everyone is here, I thought we got a big unit
Marta: We did, people just fill it well
Keira: Am I meant to feel like I’m being watched
Marta: You’re meant to feel loved. I always want you to feel loved
Keira: I feel loved whenever I look in your eyes. Shall we go to bed
Marta: Si, I’ll just say buenas noches to everyone
Keira: We can leave the ofrenda up longer than tomorrow morning if you like
Marta: No. They’ll all be back in the forever save by then
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Maria: Are you snooping
Manuel: No! I can’t snoop on what is out in the open, can I?
Rafael: I’m happy she’s still got these photos
Aymee: Liam didn’t take everything from her
Rafael: If I was still alive-
Manuel: There’s no point thinking about what we can’t do
Maria: She’ll be bueno
Rafael: Mi vida, it’s time to go
Aymee: Can’t I just watch her for another five minutes
Manuel: Dawn is coming, we must get back
Aymee: Buenas noches Marta, I leave all my love with you, te amo
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In the morning Marta returns the living/dining room to its normal layout while Keira is on laundry duty. Taking their clothes to the shared laundry she wonders why so many people have left their washing in the machines. Being a helpful sim, she moves stuff to the dryers. Fingers crossed none of the clothes shrink!
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Marta has harvested what she can from the garden and is singing to herself when Keira walks past in her work clothes.
Marta: Ay dios mio, is it 8am already?
Keira: Si. Te amo sweetheart
Marta: Te amo! Cuídate! Where did I leave my work gear?
Luckily she’s only a few minutes late to the local coffee shop, the perks of a quick commute. After an uneventful shift, where she mostly daydreamed about the upcoming wedding, she gets back home and hangs the washed clothes on the line. When Keira arrives back they go see the Staples.
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Here Oli and Vernon are on the move! Marta scoops up Oli while Keira chats.
Marta: Do you want to hold him carino
Keira: Uhh, what if I break him
Margarita: You won’t, he’s sturdy
Marta passes over Oli, giving his tummy a cheerful tickle on the way.
Marta: You hold him for a bit, I’m going to play with Vernon
Keira: Okay but-
Marta: Who’s adorable Vernon? Is it you?
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Keira: Sorry if we’re pushing in
Stefan: Don’t be silly. With two infants any helping hands are good
Keira: I think this is part of her plan to convince me to have kids sooner
Margarita: *laughs* I have to say she’s doing pretty well with Vernon, I love it when they laugh
Keira: Uh, anyway, we were wondering, since you’re a baker on the side Stefan, would you consider making our wedding cake?
Stefan: Sure thing! I have a free day tomorrow. Any special requests?
Keira: I think she said she’d like a pink one
Margarita: We had a pink wedding cake!
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Stefan: Here, I’ll take him off your hands
Keira: Gracias
To her surprise Keira feels sad giving the infant back, especially as he smiles and giggles at her. Marta’s plan might be working.
Keira: Marta, sweetheart, time for dinner
Marta: Si, coming. Gracias for having us
Margarita: It was lovely to see people who can talk back
The whole group laugh as Stefan puts Oli on the playmat. Let me tell you, he is not happy our sims are leaving. After bursting into tears he glares angrily at his parents while we leave.
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lonleydweller · 2 days
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after finally watching Texas chainsaw massacre 1974, I must say that nubbins. Nubbins kinda hot...
Anyway! Can I have a thing for after nubbins got darling back and the family reaction to darling having tried escaping?
-🔪
🥀Pig-Pen🥀
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Raaah tyy!! I'm glad you like enough for a part 2!! I will gladly write more for the feral gremlin man!!
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!Warnings!: spoilers for tcm 1974, mentioned injuries, violence towards darling, threats towards darling, cannibalism, sadism, swearing
Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes
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The old, rickety, dingey screen door of the sawyer household slams shut with a groan. Your feet drag along the floor as you're hauled inside the house by Nubbins. Greeted by the all too familiar smell of rotting meat and iron. You can hear a voice shouting from the other room.
"Godammit boy! Did they try running off again? Huh? Is that what all this ruckus is about? I told you I'm already pushing it by letting you keep them here!"
You recognized it as the eldest brother of the three. A horrific trio. Bubba, Nubbins, and of course Drayton. While he appeared more normal on the surface, he was certainly no less insane as the other two. Simply wanting you dead and cooked. Which at this point may as well be an act of mercy.
"I- it ain't none of yer business! I- I've got it dealt w-with! Like I always do!"
Nubbins retorts as he shifts you around in his hold. Still with a vice grip. Arms snaked tight around your ribcage like a viper. Drayton swiftly appears in the doorway of the dining room, with his usual scowl on his face. Bickering back at his brother, gesturing at you angrily.
"They're disrupting the whole damn house! I tell you if you can't keep them in check I'm gonna-"
He's cut off by Nubbins barking at him, stomping his foot like a belligerent child.
"Y-you ain't gonna do nuthin! Yous ain't got the guts to do nuthin! You're just the c-cook!"
Drayton opens his mouth to speak again, but Nubbins cuts him off with childish mocking, blowing raspberries. He goes silent with a huff. Momentarily, everything is silent. There's a standstill. Broken by Drayton angrily grumbling out,
"Shut yer mouth!...just get them dealt with and get your ass down for dinner."
With that he stomps off somewhere else within the pigstye of a house. Leaving you with the rabid thing that was lugging you around. For a moment, there's nothing but silence. Stillness. A rarity. There was almost always blood curdling screaming, bickering, and squealing resounding throughout the house. You hear your captor mumble under his breath
"He don't know nuthin."
For a second he starts to head towards the stairs with you, then he halts in his tracks, perking up. An idea clicking in his mind. His thoughts are as rapid as his movements. He quickly hoists you up, rushing into the nearby living room. Kicking aside the bone scraps and feathers that litter the floor. Your body jolts as you're carelessly plopped onto the sofa. It creaks with the sudden impact. Nubbins quickly moves towards another doorway, but hesitates mid way. Stopping as he points at you
"Y- you stay put! I-ill be right back..!"
In a blink of an eye he darts off to wherever. Leaving you alone. A moment of peace that would only last for a few minutes at most. You can only stare blankly stare at the wall. At the old, dull, weak, washed out wallpaper. Wondering how you got to this point. What went wrong. Well, you knew what went wrong now. Foresight and all. You should have never picked Nubbins up from the side of the scolding Texas roads. You should have just left him out there to rot.
Who knew such a simple act, the simple deed of offering someone a ride would lead to.. this. It felt surreal. All because you decided to show some ounce of kindness, you're now stuck in this hellhole. A reality you're harshly reminded of as you zone back in, feeling the leather of the ghastly sofa beneath you as your hand drifts across it. You never could get used to the feeling of sitting on the disgusting piece of furniture, the leather another humans skin, the bones that built the frame from the same source.
Everything in this house was inhumane. The people. The furniture. The food. Your mind races with the same thoughts it has before. Going on a re-run. How long have they been doing this? How many people have they cannibalized? Would the cops ever find you? Were they even looking for you? What was even the likelihood in this part of Texas? How long have you even been here? Days, weeks, months? You've lost track of the days and nights, the calendar you had found was out of date, and you haven't seen a single clock.
You're dragged out of your train of thoughts by the sound of heavy thuds against the old wooden floorboards. Heavy footsteps. A figure moves into the doorway, along with the sound of a pig like squeal. The youngest. Bubba. Looming in the doorway, staring at you through the sagging skin mask that was affixed to his face. He tilts his head at you. You can't help but do the same.
If he really wanted to he could rev up his chainsaw and hack right through you, hang you up on a meat hook, then toss your remains in a icebox. Then you'd join the rest of the bodies. Squeals, grunts, and gargled noises emit from him. Even without solid words, the tone seeps through. Sad. Pitying. Perhaps the only reason he left you alone. Torturing you would just be kicking a dead horse at this point. You two just stare, and stare, and stare at each other. Only broken up by Nubbins skittering back into the room. Face souring a bit when he sees his brother.
"H-hey, I t-thought I told you I got this dealt with! Ain't you supposed to be helpin' s-set up dinner anyways? G-go help Drayton before he starts hollerin!"
He stammers out, passive aggressively shooing his brother away from you. He didn't like them being too close to you. Especially when it came to Drayton, he'd snap, shout, and throw fits if he came even relatively close. No threats of beatings from a broomstick dettered him. Bubba was allowed a bit closer without as volatile reactions from Nubbins. Bubba in the end slinks off somewhere else in the house, presumably wherever Drayton is. Now it was just you and him again.
In Nubbins hand you can see a roll of white cloth, slightly battered and torn. It didn't look absolutely horrid but it had certainly seen better days. It clicks in your mind, was it a gauze? Surprised they even had medical supplies. Even more surprised as he grabs at your leg, your knee jerk reaction is to to recoil, to kick, to yank your leg away. He just as quickly pulls your leg back towards him. Nails digging into your skin. He pouts
"S-stay still, I- I'm trying to help you! I can't do that if ya k-keep movin..!"
He starts to half hazardly wrap the bandaid around your leg. Wrapping up the major cuts and gashes, slowly the bleeding. The stinging feeling still hasn't left. You can feel the gritty pieces of dirt stuck in them. You can clench your jaw in dread. With your luck you'd end up with an infection. He finishes up patching up one leg, guaze snug around your skin. He fixes up your other leg just as quickly. Finishing off with some loose wrap around your torso. Layered on top of all your worse for wear clothing.
"..T-there! A-all better.. now ya won't bleed out on me or nothing like that."
He sounds proud of himself. As if he hadn't been the one to put the gashes and tears there, or maybe he just didn't give two shits.
"..I'd be better if I was at home."
You weakly choke out through a sniffle. Nubbins just parrots back your cries and mocks your sad expression, before retorting
"W-well this is your home now, and you ain't g-going no where!"
His feral giggling fills the room, along with his faint little snorts. You want so badly to punch the smug toothy smile off his face, but you damn well know you're not in the position to. His greasy hand reaches up, your body instinctively tenses, he gingerly grabs a few strands of your hair. Messing with it mindlessly between his fingers. Tugging lightly at random intervals. Your attention is caught by something in the corner of your eye, Drayton entering the room. His face twisted in a annoyed frown, his default expression at this point.
"Dinner's done."
He announces, causing Nubbins to take his focus off of you. Letting go of your hair. Drayton briefly glances at you before grumbling out
"Get them to the table.. Bubba's already brought grandpa down."
With that he disappears back into the dining room. Nubbins arms wrap around you, lifting you up off of the sofa, dragging you once more through the rooms and into the dreaded dining room. A lamp made of someone's face illuminates the room, plates and silverware set out on the table, abhorrent food made with human meat are served up, a chair made with human arms for the arm rests, then to top it all off the barely living head of the household sits at the end of the table. His chair like throne. Grandpa sawyer. 'The best there ever was' in their words. A man kept alive far past his prime. He looks like a mummified corpse.
The stuffy, humidity, rancid air fills your lungs. Your stomach churns with nausea. You can feel all their eyes on you as you're plopped down onto a chair. Right beside Nubbin's. You stare down at your plate, where odd looking sausage sits. This.. this was your dinner. This was your life. This was your home now. You just stare at your plate. You didn't want to eat it. You knew what it was. They all stare at you expectantly. It was either you eat your dinner, or they'd force you to.
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stealingyourbones · 1 year
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GL Jazz Anger Management
Ok this shit is like half made but I know that I Will Not finish this so fuck it we ball.
Heavily influenced (and encouraged) by @gilbirda
Jazz is an Arkham Asylum Psychologist who’s been on staff for roughly three years at this point. Jason has been assigned to work undercover as a Arkham Security Guard to try to scope out and stop the next breakout that Batman has heard whispers about. 
Jazz and Jason have very similar shifts. Jason is instantly pinned as someone who could handle their stronger patients. This makes him almost always automatically assigned with helping transport the more physically menacing asylum patients to their therapy sessions. Jason and Jazz had similar shifts so Jazz frequently saw Jason in the staff break room or assigned to follow her patient into her office to make sure they didn’t try to attack any other patients or staff. (Jazz could handle herself no problem, but protocol is protocol.)
Sure enough, the rumors for the breakout were true. Jason overheard their plans but just a tad too late. The breakout was happening tonight and he was severely underprepared for handling something this big with this short of a deadline. Damn it. Jason was just getting to know Jazz really well. He asked her on a date set for next week but he might be too preoccupied trying to wrangle these villains to show up. 
Low and behold: There is a breakout. Head of the breakout being Scarface (The Ventriloquist) and Two-Face. (Jason doesn’t know which shift fucked up and managed to let an entire ass veltriloquist doll get a green light past security but he damn well knew it wasn’t his.) Dozens upon dozens of patients were out of their cells and stormed the building as alarms and lights blared at nearly deafening levels. 
Suddenly, a deafening crash shakes the building. Chunks of the ceiling rain down onto the angry mob of Arkham patients as something small and green flies through the wall of the building and finally rests on Jazz’s hand. Jason is far too far away to do anything to help. In his Red Hood uniform, he’s busy subduing the angry mob one criminally insane patient at a time. The design was reminiscent of the Green Lantern rings but a strange skull shaped emblem on the top of the skull made him think otherwise. 
Jazz knew that this was the ring of rage. It was calling to her. She somehow just knew that Danny had rejected the ring and that she was the nearest liminal on earth with the strongest will to be an acceptable wielder of the ring. Jazz looks at the angry mob and back at the ring. Sure, she could take on a few dozen goons and patients before getting overwhelmed, but with the ring she could do something about this. Protect the people she cared for, fight for what’s right. 
Jazz puts on the ring. 
-Draw Jazz GL outfit but inspired by the Ring of Rage. 
-Jazz closes her eyes as she can feel knowledge of how to control the ring suddenly flood her brain. A strange suit of green light envelops her body that glows a bright toxic green. Bright green fenton blasters, hammers, force field barriers, and mixed martial arts to subdue the rowdy patients. Balls of green light encase the unconscious patients and float them back into their rooms, keeping them out of the fight. Jazz is a force of nature, plowing a clean line of goons and criminally insane individuals down to get to Two Face and The Ventriloquist. 
Jason blinks heavily because Jazz is now holding a strange bazooka that seems to be cobbled together out of household items, duct tape, and pure willpower because there is no way that thing should be functional. 
The mortar doesn’t shoot Two-Face but instead turns instantly into a net the second it makes contact with his body. 
-Jazz then gets to work fixing up her workplace. Using her constructs to repair and fix the broken bits of ceiling and hallway until they looked like they were never broken in the first place. 
-Jason, staring at the now fully fixed Asylum with every patient locked in their appropriate room, is still reeling from what just happened. He no longer has to worry about the threat of his date being put off, but now he has another issue. 
-Jason tells Jazz that he’s gonna need to bring her to the watchtower for questioning and to meet the other GL’s. 
-They go to the watchtower and The GL’s that Jason tells to meet them there instantly clock that Jazz isn’t a normal Green Lantern. 
-the GL’s are kinda shocked because they haven’t seen a Ghost Sector GL before. They thought they were just a rumor. Jokes on them, they’re real. It’s a subset of Green Lanterns that patrol various sectors of the Ghost Zone like the regular Green Lanterns patrol sectors of the universe. 
- Their chest emblem is more like that ghost skull on the ring of rage. Her hair is more flamelike and etherial and she looks physically more unreal. Jason is shocked that the one girl he thought he might have something going for him got superpowers. Just his luck. He’s not complaining tho, he’s happy that Jazz can fully protect and defend herself and doesn’t have to worry about her. (He still very much so worries but not as much)
- Jazz and Jason have a sorta long distance/short distance relationship. Jazz spends her time patrolling the GZ but whenever she’s needed on earth, she always takes time to visit Jason. They are very very sweet with each other and are a fuckin literal power duo. You mess with their S.O.? Next second be prepared to be staring down the barrel of either a corporeal or incorporeal looking gun. Either one will hurt like hell. 
-fin-
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