#in reality i do think it would take some of the weight off their interactions with the rest of the populace

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity part.5

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, mega angst, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. violence, torture (reoccurring themes i know), angry ghost cause yes. FLUFF. YAY. Sexual situation to gain advantage over the enemy.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 3.7k

Simon sat with his team, his eyes trained on the seat she'd sat in when she was there last. It had been a week. A long, gruesome, week with her still out there. He was tormented each night by nightmares, some where he followed through and killed her that night, others where he had saved her, only to wake up to the harsh reality that he didn't.

He failed. She was gone, and she may never come back because of him. They cleared all the bases that came up on their radar, and for once he was glad she was such an asset to HQ. They had all available teams looking for her, Price being at the forefront of the search.

"Let's call it a night then." Soap sighed, everyone nodding in agreement, except for him as they expected. His head shot up, his eyes lighting in a rage that they'd been subjected to since he woke up after his rescue.

"Like hell we're calling it a night." He growled at him. The anger made Gaz and Johnny shrink back, Price squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Ghost, please-"

"We've got nothing! No leads! No updates!" His hand pounded on the table with each mention of what they lacked.

"We're sittin' at this table like a bunch of lazy fuckers while she's out there-"

"And what would you have us do?" Price interrupted. The room grew tense as two angry, powerful men glared at each other.

"You don't think I wanna find her too? You don't think I'm doin' everything I can? We're tired, and we need to regroup. Nothing good's coming out of us like this." He knew he was right, he hated that he was right. He felt useless, and it pissed him off. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"He's not lightening up until we find her."

"Can't blame him. Get to bed the lot of you." And with that, Price left too, feeling a similar anger to his officer when he slept.

~.~

Cold water pushed her weight back, shocking her awake as the liquid shot up her nostrils and soaking her completely. They used a powerful hose to wake her up after her beating her unconscious the night before, thankfully avoiding her face.

"Morning Sunshine, piss baby callsign yes?" His accent was thick, laughs going around the room as the water turned off. She forced her eyes open, taking in her situation once more. Not the best, not the worst. Her legs were kept free of restraints, but they just barely hit the ground with her hands chained to the ceiling. She spit the water in her mouth out, chuckling lightly as she nodded her head towards them.

"You'd know a thing or two about piss babies wouldn't you." His fist connected with her stomach, but with a puff of her cheeks, no reaction came. He tried again, and yet, nothing, no wince, her feet cementing into the ground so not even a swing either.

"Right~" She drawled out, a bit breathless as she took a look around the room as they stared back in mild shock from the lack of reaction.

"After a while they all feel the same. Let me out and I'll show you how to punch sweetheart." This was her play. Intimidation, sensuality, it worked on the weaker ones, and when she caught the gaze of some of them, she knew she got em. The plan formulated in her mind, and for now she'd tune it out. It was a messy technique, as while she was gone she'd have no idea what happens to her body, so deep into her mind that she couldn't feel anything. It was a severe form of dissociation, but it worked.

"They don't want us touching your face. But they didn't say anything about the rest of you." He pulled out two high power shock sticks, and she knew she was in for it. The pain was excruciating. She could taste the blood in her mouth as she bit down her lip to keep her screams in. It took her back, the feeling of her first round of ECT.

Soon he moved to just beating her, pounding on her body as if she were a punching bag.

Her eyes went blank for a minute, focusing on a spot on the floor as she slowly slipped away, all the pain in her body disappearing.

~.~

"Mrs. L/N. I asked you a question." The lawyer spoke, stepping closer to where she sat on the stand, the courtroom watching this young girl getting berated consistently for the last 10 minutes. Her siblings watched as she was nearing tears from behind the plaintiff, having already been on the stand testifying against their own parents.

"I-uh.. can you say that again?" It was the job of a lawyer to break the client, to force the truth, or whatever would benefit the person they were meant to defend, but this was a child, someone just trying to get by with her life.

"What happened 10 years ago, to your recollection." He repeated calmly. She refused to look at her parents, because if she did she'd lose her words, her ability to speak. So she stared at her siblings, her older sister giving her a smile in attempt to calm her down. But nothing that came out of her in the next few moments would keep that smile on her sister's face, in fact it wiped it from the face of the planet. The flood of words that vomited out her mouth left everyone floored.

Her mother screamed at her from the defendant's side, throwing the first thing she got her hands on at her daughter. The jury watched as a notepad hit her in the head, and all she could do was cry and cover her face. She accused her of lying, screaming profanities to anyone who listened as she was dragged out of the room. Her father on the other hand, he broke down.

That's not fair. She thought. Why is he crying? He was the reason why she was here, why she was confessing her shame, her disgust with herself in front of a room full of people. Why did he have the right to cry? She wanted to tell him to stop. To stop trying to steal their moments of recognition. But the words got lost somewhere, and she stayed quiet as she was escorted off the stand.

When she opened the door to leave, she noticed Simon leaning against the wall in front of her. She looked down at what she was wearing, and suddenly she was an adult again, wearing a ripped black tank top and dirty cargo pants.

"Time to wake up love. Things to do, noses to break."

"It's not looking too good for me Simon. Feels like my body's gonna give out before I get my chance." He shook his head.

"Told you about a week ago that there's not a thing you can't do. I intend to make sure you stick to that. Now get your arse out there and give em hell." She sighed, giving him one last look until she shut her eyes, ripping herself out of her trance.

Her eyes opened and she came to, the room empty with a single guard sitting at a small table next to her.

"Hey." She called to him, blinking the haze out her eyes. He looked up to her, his face lighting up in a way that made her internally grimace. She saw the desire in his face, and she fed into it. He made his way to her with a sultry walk. He was on the shorter side of the spectrum and she looked down at him.

"Hey honey." He hummed, his finger trailing down her cheek for a moment. She ran her eyes down his body, faking seductiveness to get a glimpse on what he had on him. A pistol, standard issue belt with some stuff she could use on it.

Bingo, keys.

"They call you a siren from where I'm from." His accent wasn't as thick, and his words were easily understood. She leaned forward, him following as she leaned towards his ear.

"Let me down and I'll show you what kind of noises I can make." As cliche as it was, it worked. His eyes darkened, his hand twitching over his keys as he felt her lips graze over his ears. Slowly, he flicked through the set he had, and with little work done on her behalf, one unlocked, his hand quick to grasp her wrist. Before he could get the other one, the door slammed open, revealing her original capturer.

"Hey!" He shouted. In a flash her head slammed on his, her foot kicking his gun from his holster, watching it fly from his waist towards her hand, and with a stretch she caught it. She swung it in her hand, putting a bullet in his head before turning it the idiot who let her out.

"Siren's a new one. Maybe that'll be my next callsign." And with that he dropped dead. She had to be quick, her arm now released allowed for one foot to have a farther reach, the keys hanging on her toe as she carefully tossed it up to her hand, the gun now being held in her mouth. She tried each key carefully, knowing if she moved too fast she'd fumble and risk dropping it with the uneven weight now causing her to sway. Her weight was on one arm, and it quickly got sore, so when she dropped to the floor she felt heavy and wobbly.

The pain she pushed off had began coming back to her, and before she knew it she was crouching to the floor, her head between her knees as she gasped for air.

She crawled to the door, having to use all her body weight and strength to push it closed due to it's steel material. She locked herself inside as heavy thuds raced to the room at the sound of the shots fired. The room was designed to lock from the inside so nobody from the other side could pick it, but it quickly became a detriment as they had to use what they had to try and open it another way. She unclipped the vest from one of the men, quickly putting it on herself. It was large on her, the chest piece hanging lower than she'd like, but there was no helping it.

Better than nothing.

She searched the bodies, finding two grenades, she could work with that. She unlocked it, rushing back to the corner on the left of the door, and when it burst open she pulled the pin, watching the soldiers jump back in terror at the explosive in their face. she rushed to the door, shutting it again and listening to the boom from a safer distance. She tuned in to her environment for any more steps, and when she heard none she pried it open again. She picked up someone's rifle that had been flung to the side.

No doubt people heard the explosion, and she was in for it when they came down. So she stocked. She went to any body that was still intact and took whatever gear they had, shoving it anywhere she had room. She was likely underground, noticing the long staircase up as she took in her surroundings.

With the heavy thud of boots, she inhaled and prepared.

Life or death.

~.~

Simon had stayed up that night, finding himself unable to sleep without being haunted by her face. He found himself jolting awake with a shout of her name, and he decided that if she couldn't sleep, and likely she couldn't, he wouldn't either. It wasn't until Soap burst through his door, out of breath that he moved an inch from his position.

He shot up from his cot, looking at him with hope.

"We've got something. Someone in a base near the border of Verdansk reported a need for reinforcements. Bodies dropping like flies from a single prisoner they had held there." It had to be her. HQ had hacked into radio frequencies since she had disappeared, hence the amount of missions TF teams were being sent on recently. The team scurried into the aircraft waiting for them outside, Simon anxious and itching to get there as fast as he could.

When they landed he was the first one out, hearing gunshots from inside the facility. Reinforcements had shown up the same time, and before they could rush in they were shot down, directing the attention to them rather than the person currently fighting for her life.

She twisted an arm, ducking under the arm of another and sweeping him off his feet with her leg, dragging the other down and slamming his head into the floor. She shot the next two before flipping a man attempting to grab her over her back and onto the floor.

She heard footsteps, the barrel of her gun being the first thing to face the front door.

"Hey! It's just me! It's Ghost." He called out to her, immediately putting his hands up in surrender as they finished clearing the ground outside. He noticed her deep, uneven breaths, her eyes mistrusting as she kept her gun up and pointing at him.

"Ghost-" His hand silenced his teammate for a moment, slowly taking steps to her. He watched her eyes flicker as his hand gently rested at the top of her rifle, pushing it down at an unhurried pace, not wanting to trigger her with quick movements.

"It's just me.. lovie." She could've cried. His hands went to her shoulders as she dropped her gun off to the side.

"You're safe now. Nothin' to worry about." She felt herself relax, all of her adrenaline fading as she soon collapsed. Whatever he was saying to her was left unheard, her ears muting as her eyes closed from the sheer exhaustion and overexertion of her body.

"We need to get her to medical now." Price told him, Simon one step ahead as he held her in his arms and rushed out the door.

She didn't wake up for 3 days, and for a full 72 hours he had not left her side. He ate his meals in her room, slept in the uncomfortable hospital chair, and when he used the bathroom he waited until he couldn't hold it anymore and rushed that too, his hands still wet from the sink when he sat down. He was gone for a maximum 20 minutes for the entire day, and only that long because Price volunteered to sit with her as he showered, wearing the clothes he brought from him.

One night it was pouring rain, the drops slamming against the window with lightning brightening up the room every so often and powerful thunder that shook the building. She awoke to it, finally, her eyes crusty and her throat dry as a bone. Her memory failed her for a moment, shooting up in her bed in a panic that jolted Simon awake. He immediately rushed to soothe her with a gentle call of her name, dragging her attention to him as his hand cupped her chin.

"You're safe. You're in a hospital, recovering. Deep breaths alright? Like mine." He placed her hand on his chest, guiding her through mimicking his breathing until she was calm. He gave her a moment to take in her surrounds, her voice hoarse and raspy.

"How long was I out?" He handed her a cup of water, watching her gulp it down hastily.

"Fuckin' hell. Slow down you're making a bloody mess on yourself." He muttered, watching the water flow down the sides of her mouth and down her neck as she exhaled after finishing.

"You try getting the living shit beat and shocked out of you for a week straight. Had to seduce my way out. Dirty fuckers." She scowled at the thought, placing the cup on the table next to him.

"Did anyone..." He trailed off, too afraid to finish the sentence.

"No. No they didn't." Relief had lifted off his chest, his body relaxing for a moment before looking back up at her. His guilt never left him, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize.

"I-"

"I'll call HQ in the morning for the team switch-" "No!" He should've felt embarrassed by how quickly he cut her off. She looked at him confused. Is that not what he wanted?

"I'm sorry, for what I said, what I did... It wasn't right. The last thing I want is you off my team." She didn't understand it. He saw what she was, a monster. She killed and tortured how she pleased. "Why the sudden change of heart? Don't tell me you're getting soft on me." She teased, making him roll his eyes.

"It's not your fault. You need help... Y/N. Which is why with some fighting with those bloody wankers at HQ you're on leave with mandatory therapy sessions." Her eyes widened, and for once, she had something to be happy about. She could make her therapy jokes become real. Her breathed hitched for a beat, a sudden realization dawning on her.

Someone fought for her.

She felt the familiar pad of his thumb stroke under her eye, and it wasn't until she felt a wetness sinking into her mask that she realized she was shedding tears again.

"Comere lovie." Lovie. She liked that one, she was certain about that. He pulled her into a hug. For the first time in years, someone embraced her. She felt herself crack, every guarded aspect of her mind shattered in that moment as sobs flooded through her body involuntarily. Just like he promised himself, Simon was there to help her through it. His arms around her were tight, as if she could share the weight of the world she carried on her shoulders and he'd help her lift it until she could do it on her own.

"I need to get a nurse to check on you." He muttered in her ear, feeling her shiver at the feeling of his breath dusting over her skin. She only tightened her grip.

"Can we just, stay like this for a while. Please." Her voice was small, quiet, and he couldn't help but agree, maintaining a constant vice grip around her. She felt protected, and she needed that. So she clung to him as if her life depended on it, and he held her for as long as she needed him to. He felt her weight eventually slump against him, her arms dropping as her breath evened out to the same one he'd memorized from her 3-day slumber.

He laid her back, pulling the sheets up to make sure she didn't get cold before finding a nurse. They checked her vitals, blood pressure, wounds, everything.

"She's healing well. Everything looks good. We'll keep her one more night for observation and then we can discuss taking her home." He nodded, and she awkwardly smiled and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Simon sat back down in his seat, feeling more relaxed than he had before.

Healing well, looks good. Those words repeated in his head over and over. He leaned forward, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose as he hovered over her for a minute. The serene look on her face, even in the dark was enough to make his heart stutter. The way her hair, now in it's natural state, free from a balaclava, looked as it sat around her head like flowers in a meadow. She still wore a mask that covered the lower half of her face, but this was the most he'd get to see her for a while, so he took what he could get.

He pressed a slow kiss on her forehead, embracing the moment for what it was before he pulled his mask back down and released the breath he was holding, letting himself fall back asleep to the gentle exhales he heard from her.

~.~

Next thing she knew, she was holding a duffle bag with all her work stuff in it, Team 141 standing with her as she stood in her front door. They escorted her home, filling her in on her therapy sessions, when they start, how participation and progress were necessary for her to be allowed back in the field after her leave was up. Price had been assigned to live with her for the time being to make sure she was adjusting well and attending her sessions. She had half a year, which was enough, and it was mandatory to continue during work.

She dropped her bag off to the side behind the door before looking back at her teammates, Price flopping on her couch with a sigh as his eyes closed.

"Well, bye." She went to shut the door, only for Simon's foot to stop it from shutting.

"Fuckin' hell. No thanks for the people who saved your life?" Soap scoffed, watching her roll her eyes as she reopened the door.

"Thank you my saviors. What would I have ever done without you." Her voices was monotone, clearly bored and wanting to lay down for a bit.

"Alright then. Just don't get yourself killed in the next 6 months before we come back yeah." Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes too.

"You're not visiting?" She questioned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"We wanna see a full transformation. Adds to the extra shock factor." Gaz smiled, watching her sigh before she painfully opened her arms for a hug.

"One for the road I guess." The embrace was horribly awkward and lasted a solid 2 seconds before she pulled herself back with a clear grimace.

"Do we get to see what's under the mask?" Soap pressed.

"Do you ever not ask questions? No? Then there's your answer." She quickly shut him down, watching him deflate in minor amusement before turning to Simon. He grunted as her arms wrapped around his middle, frozen in place for a minute.

"Hug me back dickhead." She muttered. His arms wrapped around her with a huff, though they both knew he didn't mind.

"Why the hell does he get a special hug." Soap whined, watching her pull away.

"Because he doesn't piss me off. Now bye." She shut the door in their face, kicking off her shoes and throwing a sock at Price's head. He groaned and turned, looking at her through bleary, groggy eyes.

"When's my first session again?"

The last part will be next!! I hope you enjoyed this one, more ghost fluff!! LOVIEEEEEE. My all time favorite. She's getting somewhere, finally getting some much needed help. Again I hope you guys enjoyed this part and the next one will be out fairly soon because I'm impulsive!! See ya next time!

@thaprilks @bowtruckleninja @almightywdm

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #fanfic #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost cod x reader #cod mwii #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2

[chaithetics]

I was rewatching season 1(because of...reasons) and imagine if Stewy and Yn were hiding their relationship and her mom came to ask how long would Shiv and Toms wedding last and the reason he gave that answer was because everyone was making fun of her because she "didn't bring a date", also when they're taking pictures and they take one with the siblings and their dates she's alone and he's heart eyes for her the entire time and when they FINALLY have some time alone, in a very unStewy way she asks him what he's thinking and he says "por wedding will be so much better than this one" just as Sophie and Iverson are running and says "and our kids will be cuter. Obviously"😍what do you say?

Covert Conversations

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader

Word count: 3.7K

Author's note: Thank you for this request Nonnie! When I saw it in my notes I was immediately inspired and so this one happened so quickly! I really hope you like it, please do let me know your thoughts Nonnie whether that's in the ask box or a PM! I hope you all enjoy this and this helps the void of Succession Sunday! Please let me know what you think, comments, reblogs are appreciated and I love hearing your thoughts (I live for validation also lol) and interacting with you. What a lovely community we have here! Was this proofread? No, of course not! You know how it is around here haha

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, Caroline Collingwood being awful (there is a comment from Caroline about weight gain), Roy siblings not being the nicest (mainly Shiv), some fluff.

Others could and would easily point out the plethora of differences between you and your siblings but there was something important that you all had in common. You never enjoyed being in your mother’s motherland. 

You had a very low-contact relationship with Caroline, which was for the better. The climate here was painfully dreary and you couldn’t imagine ever wanting to get married here, let alone agreeing to it. You were glad that you were at least assertive and confident enough with strong enough boundaries to know that if you were in your elder sister’s position you wouldn’t have ended up people pleasing into this. 

The weather was miserable and the way that the coldness of the country and its inhabitants had oozed itself into every wall and surface as a constant reminder of the dynamic realities and the history locked into them. 

It was the day before Tom and Shiv’s wedding, you were heading over to the church for the rehearsal. You were already severely uncomfortable. There were so many people and it was overwhelming, especially when knowing your mother’s criticisms were just around the corner at all times. 

You also knew you’d be constantly having to swerve around questions about your personal life. You were used to questions and odd looks because of your lack of involvement and interest in Waystar and you usually easily dismissed questions about your romantic life if they ever came up. 

It was a bit more difficult to do the latter though when at your older sister’s wedding, being constantly asked and of course the fact that you stood out. You stood out like a sore thumb as you were the only Roy who hadn’t brought a date and didn’t have a public partner to show off or criticise. Technically Kendall hadn’t brought a date but he had Rava and everybody accepted that due to the complicated nature of their situation. 

Caroline Collingwood was standing outside of the church entrance with your brother and his date Tabitha. You couldn’t see the bride and groom or any of your other siblings. You were hoping that more of them would be there so that you could blend in more and not have as much of an interaction with your mother but it was too late now. 

“Oh hello, darling.” Caroline said as she saw you come over, she was clearly looking at you in the way she did to inspect any flaws, to find any and all chinks in your armour. 

“Hi, mom.” You softly say as you look at her face, she gives you a small hug and inspects your face as he does. 

“Where’s your date? Did you not bring a date…? Don’t tell me you didn’t?!” She asks, there’s a horrified tinge in her voice that’s very thinly veiled in her usual playfully passive-aggressive air. 

“Now, why would I bring someone here to the dreary English countryside and then to even more traumatisingly, meet Roman?” You quipped back. 

Roman scoffed at that and Caroline looked at you, visibly disappointed and sighed. 

“There’s no need to be like that darling, I was simply asking and your brother is lovely.”

“Hear that Rome? You’re lovely!” You say to your brother who quickly flips the bird at you and then goes back to giving his attention to Tabitha. 

You can hear Kendall, Shiv and Tom starting to come over and you make a silent prayer to whatever deity there is that brought them over. But your mother quickly brings you back to your surroundings as she places a hand on your shoulder and studies you more. 

“Have you…?” She questions, you know what she’s asking and roll your eyes sighing. 

“Yes, Mom, I think I’ve gained a few kilos since you last saw me.” You say it bluntly and start to move out of her grasp. 

“I was just asking… your face looks a bit fuller… Gosh, all that therapy has really made you quite defensive!” As she speaks in her native tongue of motherly dismiss and gaslight she finishes with a laugh looking at Roman and Tabitha. Providing them with the cue she hopes they’ll take to join her. 

“Is Connor inside?” You quickly ask, cutting off this discussion from going any further in your presence as you look at Roman. He was the softest and most patient of your siblings with your mother. Feeling uncomfortably antsy, you end up walking off before he has the chance to decide whether he’ll laugh at you with Caroline or if he’ll answer you. 

As you begin to walk off you hear your mother immediately say something about the fact that you’d showed up dateless, which seems to annoy Shiv. She had assumed you’d at least find someone to even numbers up and help balance out photos. 

You roll your eyes at the conversation as you continue to walk into the chapel, further away from it following Connor’s voice. 

“Jesus Christ, Connor.” You say as you see him, he completely and immediately understands. Of course, he does, you knew he would. 

“I don’t think you can say that in here?” He responds as he quickly gives you a hug which you return and then you move to hug Willa. 

“I know she’s my mom-” You start before he finishes it off for you. 

“But she’s the Wicked Witch of the West?” Connor responds as Willa’s eyes widen at that. Connor won’t call her a bitch and use that moniker like Shiv will but it’s still quite a statement coming from him. 

“Yes, exactly that!” You say as you stick to him. Accepting the reality that you’ll probably spend the next couple of days being an awkward third wheel to Connor and Willa. 

*********** 

“She didn’t bring a fucking date, Ken. It’ll throw off the photos and it raises eyebrows.” Shiv complains to her brother the night before the wedding at the rehearsal. 

“Yeah, I know.” Kendall replies. 

“It’s selfish!” 

He’s not as interested in this conversation in comparison to the rest of your family. He did find it a bit odd that you had shown up on your own. He was certain you had been seeing someone for a bit, he’d tried to ask a couple of times but got vague, younger sister “no comment” like responses. 

Kendall was sure as he knew you were rarely at your home and you weren’t a partier. Which pointed at you possibly staying at a partner’s place. That and when he’d noticed a slight behaviour change in you made him think it was a relationship of a more longer and serious nature. 

You’d always been private about your personal life though so he assumed it was that and the potential, quite possibly real reason that you didn’t want to introduce anyone to your family. Something he understood, especially as he’d gotten older, this didn’t seem to be a reason that anyone in your family could quite comprehend though. So he didn’t bother to raise it. 

“Kendall’s dateless.” Stewy says as he takes a sip of his drink looking at his friend. 

Kendall doesn’t think it’s quite the same and Shiv clearly doesn’t either. 

“Yeah, but that’s completely different, Rava’s here-” Shiv immediately responds. 

“In case you were lost in the to-be-blessed nuptials, congratulations of course, they’re separated, and have been for a bit of a gratuitously extended hot minute.” Stewy retorts. 

“Thanks for that reminder, Stew. Really thoughtful.” Kendall says as he looks away. Shiv rolls her eyes and walks off leaving the two men. 

Stewy was once again, not impressed with how your family treated you. He knew Kendall had a soft spot for you and that relationship was close but Kendall had too much on his mind to even consider taking on a defensive role and Stewy’s hands were tied to a point. 

If Shiv wasn’t so cruel to you about this and Kendall wasn’t so in his head he’s sure that they’d have found his comments suspicious. They probably did to an extent anyway Stewy knew, they were always paranoid individuals and even with your candid nature Shiv only had unwavering distrust in you. 

The rest of the evening seemed to go by too quickly, Stewy knew Kendall wasn’t doing well and whenever Stewy looked around for you, you were often hiding in corners with Rava and talking or with Connor and Willa. 

Stewy couldn’t even hide his smile whenever he saw you, you looked beautiful as ever albeit uncomfortable. There was an impressive, assertive grace whenever you manoeuvred yourself out of awkward and uncomfortable social interactions. 

He eventually had to go back to his room for business and he saw you and Rava leaving at the same time. 

He wanted to just go into your room and kiss you, taste the Wambsgans wine directly from your lips. A big part of him was tempted to kiss you there just to spite your family for you. He’d do it. Anything you asked him to he would. 

*************** 

You were with Rava, Sophie and Iverson. Rava was standing and talking to Sophie, they were playing a clapping game while you sat on the grass looking up at Iverson as you both talked about books. He was telling you about the one he’d read last night. 

You’d heard a comment from your mother about you sitting on the grass but it was comfier and far more pleasant than the chairs that had been used for the ceremony, so you ignored her. It shouldn’t take much longer for that to become a built-in mechanism you thought. Plus it made Sophie laugh and you’d do anything to bring a bit of joy to your niece and nephew. 

You looked over your shoulder for a moment and saw Stewy and Kendall standing at the back talking. Kendall’s gaze occasionally fell to where the four of you were but he was mainly just looking ahead or at Stewy. You saw Stewy was watching you, you couldn’t help but smile at him and you were able to see his smiling at you even with the distance, you were confident it was a smirk. 

You then heard the dreaded call, for photos with siblings and partners, you looked up at Rava who gave you a sympathetic look. She’d heard some of the comments and jokes about the fact that you didn’t have a date. You loudly sighed and sat there for a minute, it was possible that the English countryside might just swallow you up or explode and obliterate you all. It was worth a shot, you wouldn’t know if it was possible or not if you didn’t sit there and give it a go. 

Before you could indulge in that hypothesis of a fantasy you saw Kendall walking over to you, Stewy was trailing behind him but with a bit of a distance. Kendall looked down at you and chuckled. 

“Mom hasn’t killed you or died from embarrassment over this?” He asks with a smirk. 

“I wouldn’t know, I’m trying this thing out where I just ignore and avoid her as much as possible. You’ve probably thought of it before.” You quip back. 

Kendall nods and gives a small, dry chuckle. He had. He’d tried avoiding both of the parents you’d shared a multitude of times, he was never successful though. He extends a hand to help you stand up. You look up at him and give him a pout, it’s not quite like Shiv’s pout and eyes that he falls for. There’s more sadness in the expression you’re giving him compared to Shiv’s evident exasperation. 

“Come on.” Kendall says gently as his hand is still out. You sigh and take it, standing up as you brush the skirt of your dress with your hands and adjust it. Rava gives you a smile and says that your outfit looks fine. You nod, and Stewy and Rava start talking as you and Kendall walk off. 

You smile at Willa as you see that she’s going to be included in the photos, much to the annoyance of the rest of your family you’re sure. As you and Kendall walk over and Roman’s posing in Tabitha’s embrace he instantly yells. 

“Wait, stop! We need more room!” Everybody looks at him and he grins like a chuffed child. “We’ve gotta make space for your imaginary boyfriend!” 

Roman, Tabitha and Shiv laugh at that, Tom does that thing where he makes that odd-sounding laugh because the rest of the Roys are laughing at something. Kendall rolls his eyes and Connor gives Roman a pointed look. You feel bad for Willa, she looks uncomfortable. 

“Wait, I thought he was invisible? Is he invisible or imaginary? Because we made sure there was an extra chair set out for him?” Shiv questions smugly. 

You roll your eyes, feeling more uncomfortable than Willa even looks. Connor tells them to stop and they then move their attention over to getting Rava in the photos. It’s an uncomfortable couple of minutes as you stand between Connor and Tom. It’s to balance out the siblings Shiv says but you know that it’s because so if they want to you, Connor and Willa can easily be cropped out. 

*****************

You’re at the reception sitting at a quieter table at the back. Rava looks up from you and sees Stewy looking at you from across the room, she can tell that it’s aimed at you. The gaze has affection and adoration written all over it. He looks like a simp of a man she thinks. Something she’s never seen or thought of in association with Stewy in all the years that she’s known him. 

“So?” Rava asks, putting her gaze back on you. 

“So?” You ask giving her a smile curious as to what she’s segueing into. 

“Stewy?” Rava asks with an amused expression raising her eyebrows. 

You give her a briefly confused expression before responding. One you’ve now perfected.  

“Hosseini?” You ask, waiting for her to confirm, even though you already know the answer. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realise he was here.” 

“Yes!” She laughs. “He’s been making like heart eyes at you all night.” 

“Heart eyes?” You ask and laugh at that. She eagerly nods. 

“Yesterday as well I swear, he keeps looking over and it’s not at me.” 

“I seriously doubt it Rav-” 

“Seriously? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at anyone like that. He was watching you during the photos as well.” 

You want to melt at that, you adore Stewy and how soft he is for you. But you need to keep your composure, you know Rava is more likely to pick up on something than your siblings are. She’s your friend but she’s also more of the empathetic, loving older sister than Shiv ever was to you. You’re also sure that she wouldn’t tell anyone but it wasn’t worth putting her in that position. Especially when you weren’t sure how Kendall would react. 

“That’s an interesting joke Rava.” You say with a small laugh as you sip some more wine. She smiles at you and drops it except for when she occasionally looks away and sees Stewy. 

Rava and the kids eventually go off to look for Kendall and to have a dance, she asks you to join but you tell her that you’re more than fine and sitting for a bit and recharging your social battery wouldn’t hurt. You wouldn’t say it was easily drained but it definitely evaporated quicker around your family and at events like this. 

You were grateful for Rava’s existence and that of your niece and nephew, it certainly made this all significantly more bearable than what it would be without them. 

“You know, some would say that’s obnoxiously  rude.” 

“What is?” You ask, looking up with a smile at the comforting, familiar voice that was interrupting your thoughts. Stewy smirks at you as he then sits down on one of the empty seats by you. 

He has a hand on the back of your seat. It’s him, a sign of affection but something that could easily be written off to a curious eye. 

“To attend a wedding and then be hotter than the bride.” You laugh at that and his smirk grows. “It’s offensive honestly.” 

“Careful Hosseini, Shiv might stab you if she hears that.” 

“I have no doubt about it.” He has that handsome smirk plastered all over his and you look at him with a grin. 

“I heard you told mom that the marriage will last till whatever comes first, forever, or Shiv going away for a week?” You question, he has a smirk on his face, there’s something there you can’t decide if it’s a bit of guilt or pride. It’s smug either way. 

“Yeah. I was getting pissed off with all the commentary on you showing up ‘date-less’.” He answers honestly. 

You can’t help but find a little but funny as you drink in the sight that he is. Oh, it is so cruel that he’s here, so close to you, basically your unspoken date to your sister’s wedding. A clandestine promise that only the two of you know. He’s dressed in that devilishly handsome suit, his hair styled back, the perfect piece of arm candy you think. 

It’s so cruel that all of those factors exist and are right in your face, you’re breathing them in like oxygen. But you cannot just lean over to kiss his soft lips and run your hands through his styled hair and make a joke that he’s your arm candy or be really candid and say he’s the love of your life. It’s torture to sit here and ignore all of that for the sake of appearances while you get drunk off his smell and the way he smiles at you. 

You look into his beautiful brown eyes, you wouldn’t need a drop of the wine that Tom’s parents brought when you could just get drunk off those doe eyes of his. They’re so intoxicating. There’s a gleam in them, it says adoration but also a thoughtful playfulness. You want to know what he’s thinking. You know he has a wonderful mind. 

“Stewy?” You ask softly. He looks at you raising his eyebrows, the way you say his name so softly, makes his heart melt. It sounds so right in your voice, it doesn’t sound as right in anybody else’s. “What are you thinking about?” 

He looks at you, he then looks around the room as he swirls his drink in his hand for a moment before taking a sip. His smirk is still there but then it quickly shifts to something else, a different smile. One that’s gentle, not so smug, it’s intimate. 

“Our wedding.” He says it so casually but genuinely. 

“Oh?” You ask as you feel your cheeks heat up slightly at that. 

“Yeah. I mean, our wedding will be so much better than this one.” He says as he takes another sip from his drink. You laugh at that, a pure, deep laugh as you look at him. “I was saying to Kendall, hasn’t your sister ever heard of anywhere in fucking Italy? We’ll get married in Lake Como. Unless you have any objections to that, just not here, it’s so fucking dreary baby.”

You smile again, you’d talked about marriage before but it was heartwarming to hear Stewy talk about it like this and to know he really did think of these things. 

“I promise you, not here.” You say with a smirk but you mean it wholeheartedly and he knows. 

“That’s a pretty big, solid win for me, so thank you.” He teases. “It’ll be nice, not as many people as this. Big but intimate, with lots of wine, and a hot bride. The hottest of brides, I feel the need to clarify there. I won the future groom lottery there baby.”

You smile at that. You’re already feeling so much better in his company. He really is a salve on your soul. Before you can respond you see Sophie and Iverson running past, they’re so joyful and happy, it makes your heart swell. Stewy immediately thinks about seeing you throughout the day. 

“And our kids will be cuter, obviously.” Stewy immediately blurts out. 

Your head whips from watching your niece and nephew to then face Stewy. Your jaw drops at that, the comment towards Sophie and Iverson but also the open discussion of children. You both discussed that aspect of the future significantly less than marriage. Plus, Stewy specifically said kids, plural, not a singular kid. 

“Stewy! You can’t say that!” 

“What? It’s true though?!” He has that smug smirk you adore written all over his face. He loves the look of pure shock on yours as well, he finds it so adorable and endearing. Oh, he wants to kiss you right now. 

“You can’t say that about Soph and Iverson, plus they’re cute!” You respond. 

“I’m not saying they aren’t. They are. They’re great in fact. No offence to them baby.” He shrugs teasingly. “I just mean, think about ours. They’ll be the cutest kids in the world, and also the most intelligent. They’ll mansplain private equity to all the other babies while simultaneously blowing away all the developmental psychologists with their EQ and reading skills.” He laughs. 

“You’re such a dork for a grown man at times, Stewy. And they’re technically your future niece and nephew!” You respond as you laugh, trying to imagine Stewy talking to a child, reading to them child-friendly stock market bedtime stories. 

“Think about how cute they’ll be. My hair, eyes, your face shape, your cute mouth!” He says excitedly. He’s obviously thought about this all a lot more than you’d realised. 

“You’ve thought about this quite a bit haven’t you?” 

“Of course.” He says, in a mock offence that you’re even surprised at that. 

You smile at him as you take a sip from your drink while leaning back into your chair, plotting how you both can leave this wedding earlier and unnoticed. You’d do anything to kiss him right now and he’d do exactly the same for you.

#stewy hosseini #stewy hosseini x reader #stewy hosseini imagine #stewy hosseini x roy!reader #stewy hosseini fluff #stewy hosseini x you #succession #succession hbo #succession s1 #succession roy reader #hbo succession #arian moayed #stewy hosseini fanfic #stewy hosseini fanfiction #succession fanfiction #arian moayed characters #arian moayed fanfiction #arian moayed fanfic #arian moayed you will always be famous #stewy hosseini is my number one boy #stewy hosseini x roy reader #stewy hosseini x f reader #roman roy #kendall roy #shiv roy #siobhan roy #connor roy

[hippolotamus]

Hello friends, work has been kicking my ass and I am soooooo behind on tags. I am slowly but surely catching up and looking forward to reading all the things! So, small confession... I've been reworking pieces of come close (let me be home) so some of the snippets might look familiar from before. Hoping the writing beans will soon allow me to make new words. Until then, have this Eddie and Christopher moment before the first ball (all prev snippets here) 😘

“This awful, cursed thing— Argh!” Eddie drops the ends of his bowtie in frustration. It’s not like he even wants to attend this wretched ball tonight. Least of all to placate his mother.

It would be different if he were going as someone who could casually stand in the background, sipping lemonade and observing his surroundings. If only it were that simple. Instead he’s expected to not only be there, but socialize, dance, and interact with potential partners. How is he meant to choose who he’ll spend the rest of his life with – someone to care for his son – based on how well they can perform the quadrille or regurgitate meaningless facts? It’s utter insanity.

“Daddy?” The timid voice reaches out from behind him.

Eddie turns to see Christopher hovering in the doorway, watching intently. The welcome sight is enough for the weight of tonight’s expectations to fall away, finally allowing him to breathe. He goes to his son, picking him up and drinking in the surprised sound.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Christopher’s nose scrunches in amusement at the endearment before he gets a very serious look on his face. “Can I come with you?”

“I wish,” Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “It would make things way more interesting. Although, honestly, I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Why don’t you then?” Christopher blinks owlishly behind his glasses.

Eddie envies his youthful ignorance for not yet understanding the pressures and politics of adulthood. He sighs and rubs his temple with his free hand, trying to think of an explanation that isn’t an outright lie. With everything that’s happened in Christopher’s short life, Eddie always strives to be honest with him.

“Well, because,” he stretches the words out as his brain continues to configure them into an acceptable arrangement. “I– promised your abuela I would go.”

Chris nods thoughtfully, seeming to accept the answer he’s been given. But, of course, he’s always been more perceptive than Eddie gives him credit for.

“Is this because Abuela wants me to have a new mom?” His voice is quieter, the tone colored with hesitation. Eddie wants to somehow pull him closer, to carve a space beneath his ribs to keep him safe.

“Not a new one, exactly. You know that no one could ever replace your mother. This would be someone else to love and take care of you.”

“But I thought that’s why we have Carla,” Chris protests.

Eddie chuckles at his son’s logic and thinks he might be the one person who could match wits with Helena Diaz. “You’re right. She does both of those things. Carla loves and cares about you very much. It’s just… your abuela has some different ideas. She’s a little stuck in the past sometimes.”

“Okay.” Christopher grins brightly, removing any traces of his serious persona. “Then I hope you have fun and find someone nice for us.”

“Me, too, bud. Me, too.”

Eddie’s brought back to reality when his valet announces the carriage is ready. He presses a kiss to Christopher’s temple and gently sets him on the floor. “Be good for Carla?”

“I’m always good for Carla.” Christopher proudly puffs out his chest.

“Of course. How could I forget?” Eddie teases. “I must be remembering a different little boy that got covered in mud while playing and had to be scrubbed clean.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “One time,” he mumbles.

Eddie snorts as he jogs down the staircase, hoping in vain to burn off some of his nervous energy that’s returned. His cloak is nearly arranged when Christopher calls from the upper floor.

“Daddy! Your tie!”

Right. Eddie sighs and makes a final attempt to knot the material together in front of the hall mirror. Miraculously he makes it in one pass this time and turns with a flourish so Christopher can make his assessment.

His son beams down at him with a toothy grin. “Be good for Abuela!”

Eddie responds with an exaggerated bow, drinking in the giggle that floats down. He snaps it up, like something he could keep in his pocket. A protective barrier from whatever he might have to face tonight. With a heavy sense of dread sitting like a stone in his stomach, Eddie waves goodbye and walks outside to the carriage. As he steps up to the plush, velvet, forest green bench, he wishes it felt less like marching to the Tower of London.

“Ready, sir?” His driver asks from the front.

No. “Ready.”

tagged by @malewifediaz @hoodie-buck @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend thank you loves!

no pressure tagging @disasterbuckdiaz @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @vanillahigh00 @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @apothecarose @jesuisici33 @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @spotsandsocks (she posted a new chapter of shifter fic so go check that out!) @exhuastedpigeon @lemonzestywrites @thewolvesof1998 @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @maygrantgf @statueinthestone @indestructibleheart and anyone else who wants to share 💖

#long snip today #because i crave validation #plus eddie and chris are just the best #buddie wip #fic: come close (let me be home) bridgerton #hippo writes

[thisreadswhatever]

Anything For The Club: Part Five

Will you betray Jax to protect The Club?

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader, reader x oc characters

[wordcount]: 3.3k+

[series cw]: 18+ minors do not interact! female reader, swearing, sexual harassment/assault (non-canon characters), alcohol use, mix of fluff, smut and angst throughout, p in v sex, teasing, violence, gun use, mentions of blood, murder, blackmail

[authors note]: this series is nearing its end and this has definitely been my favourite part to write so far.. let me know if you would like to be tagged in part six! :)

When you woke up, Jax’s side of the bed was empty. There was a note scribbled for you on the side table, ‘At the Clubhouse if you need me’. For the first time ever, you were grateful he was gone. It was too hard lying to Jax.

You decided it was best to pull yourself together and head to Diosa. You spent some time searching for the sexy dress The President had demanded. You settled on a long sleeve black mini dress, just short enough to do while still covering your modesty up top. You paired it with some strappy black heels and the largest leather jacket you owned. It was Jax’s old jacket, one he had worn when The Club’s cuttes were banned in Charming for a period of time. You loved the way it was just the right amount of oversized, and he melted at the sight each time you wore it. It felt like it was shielding you, aiding somewhat in knowing that you’d just dressed up for your blackmailer.

As you brushed your hair, something stopped you at the vanity. You placed the hairbrush on the surface and began searching the lower drawer. You pulled out a small handgun that Jax left there for emergencies. You had never needed it before, and though you were hoping you wouldn’t today, something told you it was best to have it nearby. You checked the clip, noting every bullet was in its place before you shoved the thick metal piece inside the jacket pocket. You checked yourself out in the mirror. While it looked as if you had nothing on you, the weight of the gun felt like it could drag you to the floor. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, and debated if it was time to call Jax and find some kind of release from the torturous decision you were about to make. The urge to get your phone out was overwhelming, but then you remembered the threat from yesterday, Or your pretty President is going away for a long time. 

Once you got to Diosa and greeted the girls on the desk, the magnitude of what you were about to do was creeping on you. The knowledge of what today may bring was crushing on your conscience like a ton of bricks. Protect The Club. Protect Jax. It was all you kept repeating in your mind as you went through the motions.

You were busy behind the bar when you heard the phone ring at the front desk. Your heart jolted as you prepared yourself for the reality of who was on the other side of it. Sofia answered the phone, before she called over to you behind the bar, “It’s for you, y/n.”

You knew it was him again. You felt stiff from the panic, but you knew that you had to speak to him again. You forced your legs to move beneath you, approaching Sofia and taking the phone from her hand.

You took a deep breath before holding it to your ear. 

“Yes?” 

“You ready for me, pretty lady?” His voice was eager and disturbing all at once.

“What time?”

He paused before he replied, “You’ve got one hour”, and the phone line dropped. 

You placed the phone back on the holder, and beelined for your office. You burst through the door so harshly that it banged against the wall as it flew open. You paused when you realised Nero was waiting for you on the leather couch that sat across from your desk. 

“You in a rush for something?”

Fuck. 

“Gotta go meet Jax.” 

“We need to talk about last night.” 

You shuffled to your desk, taking your jacket off and tossing it over the back of your chair.

“I don’t have time now Nero”, you had to think of a reason why quickly, “I gotta get to the clubhouse.” 

“Mandy told me about some letter we got. That phone call last night, that was the Vagos crew, wasn’t it?” 

You didn’t respond, trying to ignore him as you tore through the drawers of your desk, pulling out an old cheque book. 

“Please just let me figure this out, Nero.” 

He cocked his head at you before he stood from the couch, coming closer and placing both his hands on your shoulders. He looked at the cheque book in your hands before he zeroed in on your face. His fingers dug into your skin beneath your dress, desperate to get through to you. 

Nero was staring, pulling back at your charade with his eyes. “This ain’t no game, y/n. You gotta speak up.” 

You collapsed on your office chair, exhausted from the constant lies you’d been trying to convince everyone of for the last 24 hours. You could feel the hard metal of the gun behind your back as it lay stagnant in your jacket over the chair. You placed your head on the desk, into your folded arms, in an attempt to hide. 

“What the fuck is going on, y/n?”

You spoke into the hiding spot, hoping the shield of your arms would protect you. “If I tell you, Nero. I swear, you can’t tell the Club. Not Jax. Not anybody.” You lifted your head from the safety net you’d made yourself, watching for his reaction. You weren’t sure if telling him was a good idea or not, but you knew you weren’t leaving the office without giving him some kind of explanation.

He looked back at you wide-eyed, utterly confused at what could be so bad, so awful that you couldn’t tell The Club or Jax. But he wanted to help, and so he obliged. He walked backwards into the leather couch again, sitting down as he waited for you to confess to whatever you were keeping from him. “Not a word. But only if you talk. Now.” 

You lit one of the cigarettes Jax had left in your office from the day before, inhaling the smoke deep into your core, and then you told him everything. You told him about the letter and the call, the demands and the dirt the crew had on SAMCRO. You told him how you had to go meet The Vagos President, now. He sat back down on the couch, contemplating the severity of what you were facing. 

“Are you seriously going to meet this prick?”

You nodded to him anxiously, breathing smoke out from your lips. “I’m not letting The Club go down.”

“These aren’t the SONS, y/n”, Nero was shaking his head as he recounted memories of his time dealing with crews in South Cali. “These ain’t men with boundaries.”

“He just wants money. I’ll give him what he wants, and nobody has to get hurt.” 

Nero’s head shook at your assumption, “You don’t know that’s what they want, y/n.”

“There’s nothing else he could want. They probably think The Club is making it big here. They just want a piece of that. I’ll give them what they want and then that’s it, nobody has to go to prison.”

“If we just spoke with Jax, he could handle this.” 

“No! He will fuck Jax over, Nero!”, you stubbed the cigarette out on the ashtray and stood from your desk, putting your jacket back on. “I’m not risking it. I’m not gonna be the one responsible for them all going away.” 

Nero stood from the couch and made his way to the door. “You ain’t thinking right. Jax can handle his own shit. How do you even know you’ll make it out of there? It ain’t beneath them to kidnap a woman.” 

“What the fuck choice do I have?”

“I got a choice for you”, Nero dug in his back pocket before extending his arm out to you, offering you his phone. He gestured to you, tilting his jaw upwards, urging you to take it. 

Water pooled in your eyes as you declined, shaking your head. Nero looked so worried and his concern had terrified you even more. “I don’t know what they’ve got on The Club but until I find out, I gotta deal with this on my own. It’s the only way to protect him.”

“And who protects you?” He didn’t want a response. He slid his phone in his back pocket as he left the office. “They ain’t the type to cash a cheque either”, he said as he walked away.

“You promised not a word!” You reminded him, as he stomped down the hall. Nero raised his hand up, not once turning back to look at you. 

You put the cheque book in your pocket, found your car keys, and made way to your car.

—

It was still daylight as you drove down the highway, exiting for the diner just on the outside of Charming. You had the radio blaring, trying to drown out the coherent thoughts in your head that begged you to turn the car around. You carried on, ignoring your better judgment, and pulled into the diner car park, finding the only empty spot and cutting off the engine. The parking lot was full from the dinner rush, and you checked the time on your dash, noting it was 4pm. You sat there in silence, looking around at the vacant cars beside you, searching for any sign of The President or his crew. You could feel your phone vibrating in your jacket pocket, and you checked the caller ID. Two missed calls from Nero, and one from Jax. You turned off the device, before shoving it in the glovebox. You decided you couldn’t sit there in anticipation anymore, and so you made your way inside the diner, feeling once more for the comfort of your gun, held snug in your jacket pocket.

When you got inside the place was packed, tables of people crowded throughout and waiting staff everywhere. You figured nothing bad could happen in the diner with so many witnesses around. 

You found the only empty table at the back of the room, and nestled into the bench, searching once again for your blackmailer. It had been over an hour since his call to Diosa, and you worried you’d made it too late. A waitress approached you with a menu.

“Hi there hunny, my name’s Cora and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you a refreshment?”

“I’m actually just waiting on someone.”

She smiled politely back at you, “I’ll come back once they get here.” 

As the waitress left your table, you heard the bell of the diner entrance ring, and he strolled in casually, completely alone. 

He seemed taller than you had recalled, towering over the tables of families enjoying their meals as he searched the room for you. You had forgotten how overtly handsome he was, and you could’ve found yourself attracted to him if it wasn’t for the creepy, blackmailing, threatening the-love-of-your-life thing he had going on.

His leather cutte draped over the dark shirt that clung tight to his body. He had dark wavy hair that tousled behind his ears, his eyes covered by a thick pair of sunglasses. He was incredibly good looking, yet completely and utterly terrifying. Your eyes never left him. You watched as he looked around the room, scanning the tables before he found you. 

As he approached, you could hear the steps of his boots clamping at the tile beneath him. He sat down in front of you, sliding himself along the bench. You had never felt so small and as seen as you had in this moment, face to face with your blackmailer. He smiled at you as he pulled his sunglasses off, placing them on the table. His eyes were the same as you’d recalled in your memory. Black and empty. 

“I expected to see more skin.” He spoke with no attempt to hide his disappointment.  

You ignored his response to your outfit, and reached into your jacket pocket for the cheque book you’d found earlier. You set it in front of you on the table, hoping to cut to the chase. “How much do you want?” 

The President looked at the book and a light chuckle escaped his lips, his perfect teeth gleaming at you. “You think I’m here for your money, little lady?” 

A sickening feeling twisted in your gut, as it became clear that Nero had been right. 

“What do you want?” 

Before he could respond, the waitress approached your table as she’d promised. “Can I get you two started off with some drinks?”

“I won’t be staying, thank you.” 

He smiled, amused by the idea of you going anywhere. “I’ll get a coffee. Black.” His eyes never left you as he spoke. The waitress strolled off, leaving you both alone again. The President relaxed back into the bench, one arm laid draped across the top of the chair. He didn’t talk, just watched comfortably as you squirmed under his glare. 

You played with the edge of your dress in your fingers beneath the table, trying to hide your anxiety. “What is it you want from us?” 

“Does he know you’re here?” 

You shook your head. 

“Smart girl.” 

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing-”, you were interrupted by the waitress placing his coffee down in front of him. “Give me a shout if you need anything else.” He nodded her way as she left. 

He stirred the coffee in front of him. “Does your Pres. take no for an answer?”

“How does that-”

He stopped you, “I asked you a question. Does he?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He pushed the cheque book off the table and it fumbled into your lap. “I got all the money I need, sweetheart. I’m here for you.”

“For me?”

“Mhmm.” 

You sat there still, dumbfounded at the audacity of this man, the only sound between you two being the stirring of his coffee mug. Nero had been totally right. Suddenly you were giggling, and as he realised you were amused, his face dropped, any charm he had disappearing instantly. 

“Let me get this right,” you said, regaining your composure. “You’re threatening the SONS with prison- threatening to rat on The Club to the feds- to get some pussy?”

He sipped the coffee from his mug, staring at you as he drank it.

“Does your Pres take no for an answer?” He repeated, his words trailing slowly as he spoke.

And just like that, it clicked. You had bruised his ego, embarrassed and rejected him in front of the lobby at Diosa, and now he was going to do whatever he had to get what he had wanted. He wasn’t gonna send The Club down because he wanted their cash or guns. He was willing to send The Club down because he wanted you. “My Pres. respects the word no. Can’t say the same about you.” 

A smile formed at the corner of his mouth as he spoke, “you’re gonna give me what I want.” His tone was assured and strict, as it was an instruction. 

“And if I don’t?” 

He pulled a small manilla envelope from his cutte, placing it on the table.

You were really over this guys letters, but your curiosity got the better of you. You pulled the envelope from the table, peering into the contents without removing them. The envelope was filled with a stack of prints. Images of Jax, Opie, Chibs, it was the entire club, talking to a group of men off a roadside in the dark. The images looked like they’d been taken on a long lens camera, zoomed in a little too close. They seemed innocent enough at first, no crime being committed, just casual conversation. As you continued to scan through the photos, your heart began to sink further and further. You flicked deeper into the stack, realising he had concrete evidence of them all, loading crates of guns onto a truck in the dead of night, just outside the South California border. 

“You’re gonna give me what I want.” He repeated as he calmly sipped his coffee. “And this time, there ain’t gonna be a no.” 

You pushed the photos inside and laid it back on the table, your hand placed firmly above the envelope. You matched his eyes and tone, trying to find a way to suppress your panic at the collateral he had against Jax and The Club. “Just tell me what I can do to make these disappear.” 

His mouth pulled into a sadistic smile, before he lingered his fingers up your exposed hand, goosebumps forming under his touch. “You’re gonna let me inside you.”

Of all the fucked up men you had been surrounded by your whole life, this one took the cake. 

“You must be joking. That isn’t gonna happen.” 

His amusement never waivered, still smirking at you from across the table. He glanced down towards the envelope, bringing your attention to it once more. “How ‘bout you humour me.” His confidence was suffocating, knowing that you had no choice but to consider giving him what he wanted most. You took a deep breath, beginning to actually hypothesise about what doing so would entail. 

“How do I know you don’t have thousands of these printed out by now?”

“Guess you gotta trust me.”

“Sure, you're blackmailing me into sitting on your dick and now I’m expected to take your word.”

“You make it sound like I’m not a catch.”

You ignored him, trying not to insult him further as to piss him off. “Fine. Let me humour your ridiculous request. Let’s say I give you what you want..  And then what, this ends? I take these pictures and that’s it? You leave The Club alone?”

“That’s it.” 

“And where is this happening? I assume you aren’t gonna fuck me at a diner.” 

He finished his coffee, pushing the empty cup to the bottom of the table. He reached under the surface, grasping tightly at the exposed skin of your thigh under your dress.

“I’d take you on this table right here and now.”

As you pulled away from his touch, his smile faded. “So what’s it gonna be?”

You recoiled closer to the edge of the bench, considering running. You glanced down again at the manilla envelope in front of you. You knew deep down you had no choice. 

“Out of all the girls in Charming, the ones from Diosa. You really have to do all this to get to me? What would your crew think if they knew you were threatening to take down another Club with the feds for a quick fuck?” 

“Why don’t you just take it as a compliment.”  

“You’re a sick and twisted fuck, you know that?” 

His smile reappeared, enamored at your disdain. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.” 

He really wasn’t backing down. This would break Jax, whatever happened, it was going to kill him. You refused to cry in front of this man, forcing the tears building in your eyes from falling.

“Shit makes no sense.”

He relaxed back into the chair, putting his sunglasses over his eyes. “It’s simple, baby. Nobody tells me no.” 

You scoffed, “that’s because you don’t give them the option.” 

He stood up from the bench, pushing the envelope full of evidence back into his cutte, and tossed a wad of cash down on the table. He held his hand out to you, awaiting your decision. 

“Choice is yours. A night with me, or forever without your pretty Pres.”  

You sat there still, staring at the hand that urged to take you away. Before Jax, you wouldn’t of needed an ultimatum to go anywhere with this man. But this was different. You had given Jax everything, and you knew he had given you all he could too. Every part of him that wasn’t yours, was intertwined in The Club. Watching that die would tear him to shreds, and you weren’t prepared to let that happen, not when you could prevent it. 

So you took The President's hand without another question, and left the diner by his side.

———

part six

find my masterlist here

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller fiction #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller smut #jax teller morrow #soa #jax teller imagine #nero padilla #reads writes #blackmail kink #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #jax teller x y/n #charlie hunnam fic #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fiction #jax teller fluff #angst #jax teller x you #sons of anarchy series

[gilded-fern]

Hi! I love your Kratos posts there isn’t enough content on here about him!! This isn’t really a request but more of an idea (if you want to take up on it ofc) but i absolutely loved your relationship rambles on Kratos so I loved to here your rambles and thoughts on if you think he’d ever have any more children and what he’d be like with more kids. Honestly I see Kratos with a big family and the thought of Atreus having siblings is 🥺

Kratos x Reader Family Ramblings

A/N: Ngl the thought of having a family irl freaks me out, but in fiction its so appealing lmao. If any of you want to send rambling/fic ideas feel free! Also this is all over the place, i was just writing lol.

Reader is implied female, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 510

Warnings: None

Upon first glance at the towering spartan, your thoughts would be somewhere along the lines of “intimidating, scary, stoic…”. To a stranger it is hard to imagine someone as cold as Kratos would even want a family. But in reality, it's something the man longs for.

To start a family with you however, will force Kratos to face the pain and trauma he’s forced down. The fact he murdered his first family, and his harsh treatment of Atreus when he was a young boy. A big fear of Kratos is turning out like his own father, being cruel and vindictive with little to no care for others. But in your eyes, Kratos is the kindest man you have met. You’ve seen how he interacts with others, the underlying gentleness in the spartan when he interacts with Atreus. How his eyes will worriedly flicker to you every so often just to make sure you’re ok. You think Kratos is nothing like his father.

But give the poor man some time, as seen before with Atreus when he was very young, Kratos doesn’t always have the… healthiest ways of dealing with inner turmoil. Trips off to the forest to clear his mind will be quite frequent, sometimes you join him but majority of the time you do not.

After the initial fear, Kratos would be delighted to raise a large family with you (Or a small one! If that's what you want of course, Kratos is just happy to be with you). Kratos does quite like the pregnant look on you, it makes him happy seeing you trust him so much to raise children with him.

In terms of a big family I like to think somehow you would end up with 4 kids, 3 older boys and the youngest being a girl. When you give birth to your daughter, Kratos is more choked up out of all his children’s births. Holding a little girl in his arms again makes him remember how he failed Calliope. Father protectiveness to the max with her, it’ll be hard for her to find a future partner.

Generally speaking, Kratos' way of raising children is still a little harsh. He wants them to be capable and to be able to pull their own weight. But not to worry, it's nothing traumatizing. Daily sparring exists, and once your daughter is old enough to join in so do you. Although sparring sessions with you and Kratos are much more lighthearted and silly than your childrens.

Atreus would be overjoyed with his new siblings, on his visits home you can often see him roughhousing with the boys and teaching your daughter self defense, even though Kratos has done this a million times now.

Your family will be full of love, some days will be harder than others. Kratos won’t just be able to remove all of his struggles from his memory. There will be arguments, but you and Kratos will persevere. These arguments consist of disagreements on parenting techniques or Kratos’s awful habit to shut people out at times.

#kratos x reader #kratos #reader insert #gow ragnarok #gow reader insert

[authorchu]

Love in the Spotlight

A/N: I absolutely love Florence Pugh and her ability as an actress. Short and fluffy! Enjoy :)

It was another day on the set of your latest movie, and you were feeling the weight of the public eye more than ever before. As one of Hollywood's rising stars, you had grown accustomed to the constant scrutiny and attention, but lately, it felt suffocating.

You had been cast opposite Florence Pugh, another talented actor who had quickly become one of your closest friends. Despite the intense pressure of filming, the two of you had developed a natural chemistry that had begun to bleed into your off-screen interactions.

As the day wore on, you found yourself stealing glances at Florence whenever you could, admiring the way she moved and spoke with a confidence that left you breathless. You couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.

"Cut!" the director called out, bringing you back to reality. "That was perfect, let's take a break and reset for the next scene."

You took the opportunity to grab a bottle of water and make your way over to Florence, who was sitting on a nearby bench, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "How's it going?"

Florence looked up, a small smile on her face. "It's going well," she said. "Just trying to catch up on some messages."

You nodded, unsure of what to say next. You had rehearsed this moment in your head a hundred times, but now that it was happening, you felt tongue-tied.

"Listen," you began, taking a deep breath. "I know we're both in the public eye, and things can get complicated, but I just wanted to say... I really enjoy spending time with you, and I feel like there might be something here between us."

Florence's eyes widened, and for a moment, you feared that you had made a mistake. But then she smiled, her expression softening.

"I feel it too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to tell myself that it's just chemistry for the screen, but... I think there's something more there."

You felt a surge of excitement, but also a twinge of fear. You had seen what happened to other celebrity couples when their relationships were thrust into the spotlight, and you didn't want that to happen to you and Florence.

"Are you afraid of what people will say?" you asked, voicing your biggest fear.

Florence shook her head. "I won't lie, it's scary to think about the public's reaction, but at the end of the day, this is our lives, and we should be able to live them the way we want to. As long as we're honest with each other, that's all that matters."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you. It was a comforting thought, knowing that you and Florence were on the same page.

"Okay," you said, smiling. "Let's do this."

The rest of the shoot flew by in a blur, and before you knew it, you and Florence were out of costume and heading back to your respective trailers.

"Can I take you out tonight?" Florence asked, taking your hand in hers.

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement. "I'd like that," you said, grinning.

As you walked away, hand in hand, you knew that there would be challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

#fanfiction #Florence Pugh #fluff #florence pugh x reader

[zalrb]

I don’t agree with Lizzie. I think that it would be super beneficial for June to be with Nick. He’s basically the only person that understands her and loves her unconditionally. If they could be together in Canada or in no man’s land, he would give her the space to heal, to be her true self, to express her anger, her sadness, her frustration, everything. He would listen when she needs to talk, hold her when she needs to cry, remind her every day that the new June is loved and worthy. We could have some really powerful and beautiful scenes. Nick can give June what she needs. She could do the same thing for him and they would be a power couple.

Oh, for sure. I dismissed her comment as having any bearing on how I view Nick and June's relationship and what the writing presented, it just made me wary about what could potentially be said or done down the line. I was actually thinking about June and fear

but the only time we've ever seen Nick afraid when it concerns June is being afraid for her, like when he found her bleeding out

and I was thinking about how Luke and Nick differ when they give June reality checks, whether intentional or not, Luke almost always ends up invalidating June’s emotions,

it feels like a dictation of this is how you have to be, be this way

whereas for instance in 2x02, Nick realizes June is acting a little chaotically so he first wants to know where her head is at

and then he actually kind of talks with her like, here is the situation, June, Mayday doesn’t really tell me anything, I’m in the dark as much as you are, there are protocols we need to follow, it took me forever just to find you and you can’t just leave, OK, you’re a pregnant handmaid and when June insists, then we get this:

and when she accuses him of trying to play a hero, that’s when he’s like so your actions have consequences

and because of those consequences, we’re in an even more perilous situation, what do you think your circumstances are, June? He walks through them with her

and he’s exasperated, sure, and it’s an argument, yes,

but he’s not dictating how she should feel or be, he’s illustrating that she’s not thinking clearly

Even in 5x03 the different language Nick uses compared to Luke in 5x02 is interesting to me because Luke is about obligation, you have to be in the present, you have to let go, you have to because I need you, Nichole needs you, your family needs you and if you’re not, what’s going to happen to me and you? While Nick’s language is about June keeping herself safe and keeping Nichole safe

and with Luke, as I’ve mentioned before she’s perpetually apologetic with him, and she is once again apologizing for herself

but she’s not apologizing for herself with Nick

when Nick has spoken about obligations, it’s because

and I don’t say this to demonize Luke or Moira, I think Moira being afraid of June’s behaviour and where June’s rage can take her and has taken her is valid and I do think that Luke is just desperate for his “wife back” but it’s like they try to "handle” her or form her, they strive to understand her, and Nick doesn’t have to do that, Nick knows June, he doesn’t try to fashion her into something and if June were with Nick and Nick were in the position he’s in now ...like from what I gather of Rose and how they interact and what she knows, she understands the weight Nick carries but I think June would some of that weight off, provide him peace and solace etc. so yeah, when I heard that interview I was like ... that doesn’t make any sense but OK.

#osblaine #nick x june #june x nick #the handmaid's tale #nick blaine #june osborne #tht #elisabeth moss #max minghella

[sleep-deprivedracoon]

Tell it to my heart

Here's to the one with the scorching stare of love, blood, and vengeance. Eyes killer cold, blue and bare.

pairing: Gojo Satoru x f! reader AU - Mafia

warnings: angst, implied abuse, injuries, blood, alcohol, death, suicide, drug usage, addict, recovery, smut, gore, violence, trauma, guns, abuse, sex, overstimulation, rape threats, murder

Author’s note: This fanfiction is going to be a slow-build story with an irregular upload scheme. I am not sure when I will be able to update. I might upload multiple chapters in a single week or not upload for a few weeks. It depends on what my daily schedule is, and it is very dynamic. This story is for a mature audience and will have a lot of problematic themes. If this is triggering to you, please refrain from interacting with this story. The content warning is for the entire story and not just for this chapter. Again, I cannot emphasize enough, that this is a slow-burn story. In this story, you will find some changes in mannerisms among characters. Gojo Satoru will be smoking and drinking. Yuji and Sukuna will be 2 different people but are related by blood. The main reason is, that I do not see Yuji being part of a Mafia unless he had no other choice. The cursed spirits will be human in appearance.

Notes for this chapter: TRIGGER WARNINGS – PTSD OF ABUSE

<< Previous chapter | CHAPTER LIST

art credits - @neverwho_art on Instagram (i added a b&w filter on top of it to fit the theme of this chapter)

Chapter 13 – Hollow

You were sweating bullets even though the AC was set to cool the room down. It felt like you ran a marathon when in reality your tremors were the ones triggering your sweat. You had already thrown up a couple of times in the past few hours. Your nose was dripping and you wiped it off with a tissue. Shoko had cleaned all your wounds and treated your burns. She said it would take a few days for the soles of your feet to recover. Your nails would probably take a couple of months to fully grow back. The withdrawal was painful. You had been through this multiple times already but it was still painful. Every muscle in your body ached. All you wanted was some relief and there was only one way to get it. You were hooked to an IV as you were severely dehydrated and malnourished. You were given electrolytes every few hours. You were advised to rest as much as you could but sleep was not peaceful. You kept waking up every now and then. You found Yuji sleeping on the floor. The boy had not left your side ever since Shoko was done treating you. He tended to your every need.

You also had Sukuna visit you. He was mad at you. Mad at himself.

“What were you thinking???” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Utahime was in danger… I had to-”

“You had to tell me that the Zenin prick was going to put you up to this. I would have had this handled. Look at what they have done to you.” He shakes his head.

You begged him to take a picture of you. You wanted to see what you had been through. Although it scared you, you needed to see what they’d subjected you to. When he handed you his phone to show you the picture, you barely recognized the person you saw staring back at you. You were clad in a simple loose gown similar to the ones you could find in a hospital. You were covered in bandages. Your hair was matted and your eyes were covered by dark circles. You had lost a lot of weight. But what caught your attention was that your eyes were devoid of any emotion. They were hollow.  It felt like you were looking at a stranger.

“It’s not that bad…” Yuji tried to reassure you.

You just nod and hand the phone back to Sukuna.

The next time you were asleep, you were woken up by someone’s footsteps entering your room. Your body was now tuned to wake up at the slightest of disturbances.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He looked alarmed. His blue eyes still had the same gravity that they did before. His hair was more skewed than usual.

“Satoru…” You whispered. He was here. He was okay. Your eyes quickly scan him for any serious injuries.

“Hello… ” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Strawberry Haze… that is the password.” You quickly blurt out.

“I am sorry, what?” He looked genuinely confused.

“Geto… He wanted a password from me. I think it was for a warehouse. I overheard Mahito and him talk about it. The password to the warehouse is strawberry haze… Asami texted it to me when she was going to see me. She also mentioned it when we met. I mean, why would she want a very specific strain of weed if she was short on her usual drugs? I don’t know where this warehouse is but I am willing to bet on it that the password is Strawberry Haze.” You pause to catch your breath. You didn’t remember the last time you spoke so much.

“So that is why he captured you.” He sits on the edge of your bed.

“That is why he kept me alive. He genuinely believed I knew it.” You sit up and lean your back against the headrest.

“Alive? Hah!” Gojo closes his eyes shut. “I wouldn’t call it being alive. I went through Miguel’s report that Yuta gave me.” He clenched his fist tightly.

“You’re right.” You looked out the window. You had asked for the bed to be placed near the window. You hadn’t seen the sun or the stars in two and a half months. “Death would have been merciful. But I think I deserved it.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” Gojo snapped.

“Maybe…” You sighed. “So many people had to suffer because of me. My parents, Nanami, Utahime, some of your men whose name I’ll probably never know, and even you.” A tear slipped from your eye as you spoke. “It was only a matter of time that Karma got to me. Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” Gojo crosses his arms as he pulls his legs on top of your bed.

“Why did you rescue me from there? For all you knew, I could have been a rat. I could have told them everything I knew. You had no reason to get me out of there.” You look at him.

“No reason? Really? How about rescuing a friend? Is that a good enough reason?” Gojo looked offended. “You may not believe it but all of us here consider you as a part of our group. Shoko, Sukuna… hell, Utahime blamed herself and stepped down from the triad. Megumi wasn’t sleeping properly. Yuji was a mess. Shoko and Sukuna used all their connections to find any information about you. I… I was shocked to learn about you. About Nanami and you. I woke up only to find that I lost two more friends.” He looked you in the eye. “If I didn’t bring you back, Nanami’s sacrifice would have been in vain. If someone knew you, they’d know you’re no rat. And even if you did leak some information, it wouldn’t have mattered. I would have still done anything in my capabilities to bring you back. I made a promise to keep you safe.”

“Gojo…”

“I failed to keep my promise. It was my mistake. I failed to foresee a lot of things.” He grits his teeth. “The SnK will pay. They will pay for every person they’ve taken from the triad. They will pay for Nanami and they will pay for you.” He tries to hold your hand. You flinch a little but you hold his hand. He looks at your fingers and back at you. His eyes looked like a pool of crystal blue. “Fuck…”

You pull your hand back and curl your fingers. Your fingers without nails looked disgusting. You felt like a freak. “They’ll grow back.” You mumble.

“That’s not the point.” He growls. “Who did that to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. There are far too many scars to hold him accountable for.” You shake your head.

“We can get rid of the scars. I know the best doctors who – ”

“No! No… I am not going to get rid of them. I need to remember. I need to.” You insist.

“(Y/N)… You –”

“I have to Gojo. Please.” You plead.

He sighs and nods. “Fine! Fineeee….”

“Gojo…?” You look down this time, hesitant to talk to him.

“Hm?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Do… Do you… have a cigarette?”

“Um… I do… but peach, I don’t think it is a good idea for you to be smoking now.” He reaches out to you. As he places his palm on your cheek, you flinch a little. “I am not going to hurt you.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

You nod as you gulp down the lump in your throat. He called you peach. It felt like it was forever ago. “Sorry, it is just an instinctive reaction.”

“Shh… You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand, (Y/N).”

You take a deep breath as you feel fatigued. After all, you were woken up from your sleep.

“I am going to get some rest, Gojo. If that’s fine with you.”

“Of course. You don’t have to ask me… Is it okay if I stayed here for a while?” He pulls his hand away and places it on his lap.

You nod and slide down to lay on your bed. You close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing. As you nod off, you hear Gojo whisper. “I am going to make him pay. I am going to make them pay.”

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

You were able to walk within a week. Your soles had healed enough for you to take small steps and walk around your room. You’d also start wearing your own clothes. You noticed how loose they’d become. They barely fit you anymore.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes still seemed hollow. Dark circles around your eyes were prominent due to the lack of color on your face.  Your hair was a matted mess. You find a pair of scissors in the cabinet beside the mirror. You take the scissors and began to chop off the parts that were heavily damaged and matted. All you could hear was the snipping of the scissors. The cut was uneven but it wasn’t visibly bad.

You were surrounded by the hair when you place the scissors back in the cabinet. You look at all the hair and your heart breaks. You weren’t particularly attached to your hair but seeing so much hair on the floor felt like you cut off your old former self. She was gone. Gone for good. You fall on your knees and cry. You cry as you grab strands of hair on the floor.

“(Y/N)… We have an idea and Shoko approved – (Y/N)…?” You hear Yuji pauses as he sees you on the bathroom floor with the door wide open. He was followed by Megumi, Sukuna and Gojo.

“(Y/N)!!” Gojo rushes to your side and kneels beside you. “Are you okay? Is something hurting? Call Shoko!” He looks at Sukuna.

“N-No… I- I am fine…” You wipe the snot off your nose. “It’s – It’s all gone…” You look at all the hair around you.

Gojo wraps his arms around you. “Hey… Hey… It’ll grow back. It’ll be alright. Don’t worry about it. You look just as beautiful with this length as well.” He grabs a strand of your hair.

“Yeah, (Y/N). This length suits you!!” Yuji approaches you. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to you.

You take the handkerchief from him and wipe your eyes. You use Gojo as a support to stand up. “I am sorry… that was… stupid.” You sniffle.

“Naah. What was stupid was trying to chop your own hair.” Sukuna rolls his eyes. “We could have just arranged a hairdresser for you, ya know.”

“Sukuna!” Yuji glares at him.

“What?” He growls.

“You’re an idiot.” Yuji shakes his head.

You giggle looking at their banter. Everyone pauses as they notice you giggling.

“That is the first time we heard you giggle ever since you came back,” Gojo explains as confusion reigns over you.

You ignore the statement and compose yourself. It was probably the first time you giggled after Melbourne. When was the last time you smiled? You didn’t know. You compose yourself. “You guys had an idea?”

“Oh yeah!! Since the weather is so nice and everything, we thought that we should have a picnic in the backyard.” Yuji grins.

“A picnic?” You raise your eyebrows

“Yeah… You could use some sunlight…  I mean, when was the last time you were outside?” Sukuna leans against the wall.

“Oh… Okay, what should I do?” You dry your eyes with the kerchief.

“Oh, you’re doing nothing. Just leave it all to Sukuna and me!” Yuji grins. “Come on Sukuna, let’s get things ready!!!” He dashes out of the room.

“I swear to god, this brat treats me more like a butler than a brother,” Sukuna grumbles and follows him.

“Come with me, let’s fix your hair.” You feel Gojo’s hand on your back and you flinch.

“Sorry!” You apologize for your reaction. “You’re a hairdresser now?”

“You’d be surprised with what I can do.” He smiles softly at you. He walks out of the bathroom to grab a stool from the dressing table. He places it in front of you. “Take a seat.”

You sit down as he slowly combs through your hair with his long, slender fingers. Your body trembles involuntarily. Another human touching you without malicious intent felt alien to you. You hear the snipping of the scissors and you jump a little in your seat. You feel his hand rub your back, reassuring you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now, (Y/N). No one here wants to hurt you.” His voice was warm.

“I know… I know…” You take deep breaths to calm yourself.

In about 20 minutes, Gojo was done. You look at your reflection in the mirror. He’d done a much better job than you had. Everything was evenly cut.

“Thank you.” You smile at him. “For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“Hm? Naah. You don’t.” He messes your hair. “(Y/N)…”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing..” He shakes his head.

“What is it, Gojo?” You knew he wanted to say something.

“Can I…” He clenches his fist… “Can I hug you? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“O-okay, yeah.. I mean… You can hug me.” You shift awkwardly.

He closes the distance between the two of you as his arms wrap around you. You inhale the familiar scent of his cologne and shampoo. Still tense in his embrace, you feel him relax against you as he pulls you closer to him.

“I am.. I am so sorry, peach. I was an asshole to you when I last saw you. I was unnecessarily mean.” You feel him shiver. Your arms wrap around reaching his back. You stroke his back.

“Satoru… Shh…”

“I was scared… So scared because that bastard almost caught you. For the first time, it felt like someone pulled the rug from under my feet. I understood the gravity of bringing you into my world. I needed to act fast and get you away from all of this. So my fucked up solution was to push you away.” You feel him hug you tighter. “But it was all useless in the end. They got to you. They…” You feel him heaving against you.

“Satoru… listen to me..” You hold on to him. “In the end, it was my choice. I walked into it myself.”

“I don’t know why I was so scared to lose you… I thought you were gone. Like Nanami.” He slowly pulls himself away from you and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "It might have been your choice but it could have been avoided had I been better prepared. Had I not been overconfident, I could have.... I would have.... What were you thinking, (Y/N)??? Do you not know what you mean to m- us?? Do you think Yuji would have continued to live the way he was knowing what you had done? The boy was this close to joining the triad to find you. You think Sukuna would be okay with the guilt of letting Naoya get to you?? Or Utahime would be okay with you dying in her place? We told you that you are family. You think I would -" He takes a deep breath to calm himself. "Do you think I would have been okay knowing that I couldn't keep my promise? What do you think would happen to us all if you died, peach???"

“Yuta saved me before that could happen. I am alive. I am here.” You hold his hand. "You came through. You lived up to your promise." You gently squeeze his palm. "I thought dying was an easy way out. But knowing what I know now, I am not ready to die Satoru. I know I belong here, with you... I mean with the triad." You correct yourself.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He squeezes your hand back. “I mean it. I will drag your ass back and lock you in a room. Heck, I nearly wanted to do it this time.”

“Message received, boss.” You chuckle dryly.

He raises your chin gently with his fingertips and places his lips on yours. Your lips part as you savor the warm touch. You remembered this feeling all too well. You felt safe, you felt like you belonged here. You felt at home.

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo sensei #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk smut #nanami kento #gojo saturo #jujutsu gojo #yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #gojo jjk #gojo jujutsu kaisen #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo satoru fanfic

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello, hope you’re having a good summer break. I’m an intp who’s probably been overcompensating for and overworking Fe, and I don’t really know how to ask for help.

I feel like I’ve come a long way in terms of emotional intelligence since my teenage years - mostly stopped feeling worthless, more action and task-oriented, reaching out to make new friends and care for close ones, and they’ve responded by saying I’m much more understanding and emotionally stable now, even coming off as extroverted - but it doesn’t keep me from feeling lonely. I’ve spoken with friends about feeling sad and unsupported, they would respond by saying they understand, but truth is I barely feel the connection. I’m happy for their company, they just don’t seem able to share my burdens, which are objectively my own. It feels like I’ve overworked myself so now my psyche is demanding that someone else take care of my emotions instead of me doing the work myself. A very subjective internal temper tantrum.

With my infp partner, I’m in this loop where I can sense she’s sad/anxious/unfulfilled, she wouldn’t talk about it because she couldn’t put it into words and also doesn’t feel the need to do so either, I could either try to cheer her up or accept that she’s in her own emotional state and simply wants company. I know and she confirmed that she’s lost interest in many of our common hobbies, but will feel sad if I pull myself away from her for alternative stimulation. But I need stimulation even if she doesn’t. I’ve expressed that simply sharing some of her life and thoughts takes a huge weight off my chest, I love hearing from her, but she insists there simply isn’t any event or thought she could share. I can talk, and she will respond happily. It’s just so draining especially since we’re long distance right now and can only communicate in words. It almost feels easier if I could just be obliviously content to talk to her about anything like I was several years ago.

I’m hoping that taking a vacation from work and study to go home will help me focus more on the things I love (reading, drawing, creating and experiencing life in ways that stimulate my brain) although it does mean a lot more time spent staying with family and other new social circles as well, which could also be a mixed bag.

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

When you're in touch with Fe, it makes you more aware of your emotional needs. This is not a bad thing, but it can be a hard thing when you haven't yet learned the best ways to fulfill them. You say your self-worth has improved, which I take to mean that you see your emotional/social needs as legitimate and yourself as deserving of support? Believing you deserve love is the first step for many people.

Because Fe is the inferior function, it's safer to get to it through the auxiliary function whenever possible. For example, using Ne, are you able to visualize the ideal social interaction/communication/relationship that would help you feel more supported and loved? If you were granted control over other people for a short time, what would you make them do to better fulfill your needs? This visualization might give you a more precise idea of what you ought to be requesting of the people around you.

You seem to be implying that this romantic relationship is putting you in a difficult position of having to choose between you and her? I don't think that's the case. While I agree it is sad to feel forced to seek stimulation outside the relationship, a healthy romantic relationship should allow space for such a move. It is unhealthy to believe that one person can/should satisfy your every need. Don't put all your eggs in one basket. Healthy couples should be able to live satisfying lives together... and apart.

I think a good way of looking at the situation is you have a need but she, for whatever reason, isn't capable of fulfilling it. It's nobody's fault but just the reality of the situation. It sounds like she's not as emotionally available as you would like, or not in the way you would like. Maybe when you first met, you didn't realize you needed emotional availability, but now you do. This doesn't mean the relationship has to end, though choosing a new partner better suited to your needs is always an option. When the things that brought you together no longer work to keep you together, then you have to find some other way to remain bonded. Relationships can evolve over time. You also need to come to an agreement that it's okay to get some of your needs fulfilled outside of the relationship. Be honest and transparent about every move.

It sounds like you've imposed an obstacle on yourself and now feel stuck because you really want it to be her to fulfill this need of yours. The fact is, no matter how much you want it, it isn't her. Face the fact and move forward accordingly. Grant yourself permission to take proper care of yourself.

#intp #inferior fe #self care #emotional needs #ask

[centaurianthropology]

General Thoughts of Candela Obscura E1

So, for those who are waiting for the drop for Youtube, I’m just going to put these under a cut.

The first episode was ... fine.  I like the characters, but the story was a little less horror than I was hoping for.  I think this is likely a side-effect of it being an introduction to the system and the world, and I hope we dig deeper and get into way worse and creepy things in Oldfaire, because the town gives off some serious Yharnam vibes, and I really want to see much worse below the city.

The horror seems currently on the level of something like Fallen London (another strong similar vibe I got from the setting), where it can be mildly creepy, but nothing to spook even the biggest scardey-cats.  And part of that, I think, is Matt being first and foremost a D&D DM.  His favorite horror is body horror, clearly, and his sensibilities are geared for D&D combat and monsters.  And that is no bad thing, but so far I really haven’t seen him dig deep and come up with a really strong horror hook.  

And to be fair to him, doing horror in a TTRPG is HARD.  The sci-fi horror series ‘Eclipse’ had only one episode out of three seasons that really got me properly creeped out.  Taliesin’s Call of Cthulhu one-shot ‘Shadow of the Crystal Palace’ had some great horror moments, such as the moment with the guard and Travis, but that’s as close as we’ve come to proper horror content from CR.  And this introduction to Candela Obscura, despite being hyped as proper horror spooks, lacked any real fear.  We got ..blue ghosts?  A big warrior spirit?  Cool, sure, and definitely some fun visuals, but nothing that felt actually scary in that existential, unexpected way.

I also sort of wish Taliesin was playing the group’s Lightkeeper, as I think he’d bring more gravity and spooky shit to the table, essentially acting as a junior DM and NPC.  He would give the circle instructions and would be available to discuss lore and such with them as needed, but would always give off a vibe that interacting with him for too long might be dangerous.  It would also make his intros feel a little less separated from the rest of the episode.  

Now, all this may sound like I was pretty down on the episode, but I did enjoy it.  The characters are fun, they’re good horror tropes (particularly Laura’s crazy-eyed occultist, who gives off some delightfully weird vibes).  Having them have personal connections to one another is also great, as it gives them more to lose (and I am really hoping we do lose a few by the end of the third episode, as I want Matt to ratchet up the danger hard).

And as I said at the beginning, this is very much the first episode, with some kinks to work out.  I’m hoping that, now that the establishing episode is over and done with, Matt can destroy all my doubts and show me that he can really embrace the fucked-up horror vibes this show really needs to have proper teeth and linger with the audience.  Having a system weighted toward failure or only partial successes, with true success seeming like a rarity, could really help with this, and giving the characters more resource crunch could also be great.  ‘Call of Cthulu’, for example, has very few rules about fighting, but a lot about running away, because that’s what you’re supposed to do.  So it’s great that none of the characters in this current run are active combatants.  Sending them into Oldfaire with no real means of defending themselves and barely enough information to keep them alive could really up the terror, and leaning into reality-breaking cosmic weirdness seems like a great angle to take if and when they descend below the city streets.  

Setting up proper scares and paying them off would also be a huge benefit.  Taliesin had some great moments of this in ‘Shadow of the Crystal Palace’, as I mentioned, and though the rest of the series never quite rose to the same heights, the third episode of Eclipse, ‘The Dark Zone’ is frankly a masterclass at being properly spooky and unsettling that could be referenced for ways to get your players spooked and keep them there.  So it is doable, but it requires the DM to go in with spooks set up and ready to go.  Matt is fantastic at set-up and is an incredibly diligent DM, so I do trust he can do this.  And he’s got a good buddy who has experience doing it if he needs any ideas.

I am looking forward to following this run, and I think a lot of my issues with this first episode are simply early growing pains of a new system and new players.  I think by the third episode, if Matt really cranks up the horror, I am going to love this series, and I am both a big fan of CR and a big horror fan, particularly cosmic horror.  So I’m very excited to see what the next run might be like after the growing pains are over and the kinks are worked out.  I hope we get at least three runs with three different DMs, because getting to see how this system plays in different hands with different approaches would be really beneficial to those of us tempted to run Candela Obscura ourselves.  I would love to see Ivan van Norman DM one of the runs, as he’s got a great sense for horror.  And I would really like Taliesin to take the reigns.  This is his baby, and right now his distance from it is probably deliberate, as he wants to see how it plays without his interference, but I think his DM style from ‘Shadow of the Crystal Palace’ would really bring this setting to life, dragging his investigators into darker and darker places.

All in all, not a bad start.  Not great, but first episodes of any of CR’s campaigns (or frankly pilot episodes in general) are often weakened by everyone being new to their characters and the DM still figuring out the tone they want to go for.  I think that we’ll be seeing a lot of improvement, and a lot of what’s already strong (the characters) getting built out to the point where, if we start losing them in episode three, it’ll have some serious impact leading into the formation of the next circle for the next run.

#Candela Obscura #thoughts #CR spoilers #Critical Role #Not at all bad #But has a lot of room for improvement

[yzeltia]

Heavensward

Chapter 7: At the End of Our Hope

Characters: Jannie Eyradoux, Y'zel Tia, U'noloh Tia, Ysayle Dangoulain, Artoirel de Fortemps, U'rahn Nuhn

Rating: T

Notes: Dialogue taken from MSQ At the End of Our Hope and Knights be Not Proud

              The snow of the western highlands blustered about unforgivingly, though the cold had already set in under the party’s travel clothes long before they’d left the high walls of Falcon’s Nest for the snowy broken up land to the north. Jannie’s anxiety was starting to surface as they followed the heretics’ snowy footprints, Y’zel seeking out his dear sister for answers. With them, the Miqo’te’s mercenary companion, U’noloh, who’d been patiently awaiting for them outside the walls of Ishgard since their initial departure.

 A choice lay ahead of Y’zel soon: who he’d follow and Jannie was unsure just what path he’d design to take. Remain loyal to them for the sake of his cousin or unite with his adopted sister with the reality of what their actions had wrought upon his childhood home. U’rahn wouldn’t have the stomach to strike him down and Violet would be too hasty in doing so should he hesitate. No, if this went wrong, it would be her duty to see that he could do no further harm. She’d been the deciding factor in his spared life, and the advocate for joining them on their relocation to Ishgard. As for the mercenary with them, she was almost certain she could subdue him, at least long enough to make her escape after.

            She shifted under the weight of her sword, making sure they weren’t followed, hoping to speak a bit more freely out of earshot of the templars and the young Lord Fortemps.

            “Artoirel. I think he fancies you,” Y’zel said, ear twitching as he trudged through the snow.

            Jannie stopped in her tracks, losing all sense of direction and self for a moment until a howl of wind brought her back. Y’zel and U’noloh turned, staring for a moment before she pressed forward, pushing by them.

            “I do not know what you mean. His Lordship has given no indication that he’d fancy me and I have no interest in him. While polite, he looks down upon us. I get the sense he wishes for us to fail in our search,” she said in response, taking the lead up a slope.

            Y’zel shook his head, “It’s in his eyes.”

            “His eyes?”

            “Yeah. Haven’t you ever seen someone fancy another and just give them that look,” U’noloh chimed in, shivering a little as he reached the top of the incline with her.

            “He certainly has not given anyone else a second glance, and yet with you he lets his gaze linger,” Y’zel continued.

            “I believe you are seeing what you want to see. Our interactions have been limited to our introduction and what you’ve personally witnessed recently in assisting with House Durendaire. There’s been no time for attraction, and it is certainly not one I would entertain. To start, we are of two very different social classes. Second, he is my patron. Such sights on his part would be inappropriate. Entertain your romanticism no further.”

            “Different social classes? I’ve been looking into some records a friend came across and from what I’ve found you are no pauper. A woman Jannie Eyradoux was under the employment of one of the Heaven’s Ward and rumored to have been their Misst-“

            Jannie turned on the mercenary Miqo’te quickly, hand on the hilt of her claymore. She’d never been quick to anger or to lose herself; however, in the moment she felt as if the Fury might possess her to remove the man’s tongue. “Another word and it will be your last.”

            U’noloh held up his hands, shrugging a bit before turning toward an abandoned settlement as the snow lightened enough to get a bit of a distance, “Your secrets are yours then. But check that out. We heading there Zel?”

            Y’zel exhaled sharply as he looked off into the distance before giving a little nod. “Yes. We should find them gathered there. Please Jannie. If my sister is there…Please let us speak,” pleaded softly.

            “I will let you see your intentions play out; however, I will not stall my hand should I need to rise to the occasion.”

            The Miqo’te nodded while Jannie turned her attention back to U’noloh.

            “Threatening him so brazenly with his lover right in earshot. You just assume I’d let you take him away from me? I just got him…though, you’re a Warrior of Light, so I’d just as well be joining them in…I suppose Halone’s embrace. Not a flicker of the Warden’s love out here,” the mercenary sighed.

            “It will not come to that. If you would listen to my sister for just a moment. I’m sure all will be explained. And…she can make things a bit clearer for everyone,” Y’zel assured them before leading them along.

            U’noloh simply smiled and Jannie recoiled and followed Y’zel along. The mercenary wore thin on her nerves; however, it was not her place to direct her captive turned ward on the manners of suitable partners. Not to mention far from her expertise. She’d find herself to be a hypocrite. Still, she knew altruism when she saw it and that it was dangerous to flirt with. Y’zel was his exception.

            Arriving at the farm, the trio slowed, Y’zel motioning for quiet and to follow him to the stables. Despite the place looking well-worn from abandonment, the chocobo pens seemed well cared for, fresh hay laid about. A draft of warmth washed over them as they moved deeper, heat escaping from a cellar below. At the top of the stairs, Y’zel stopped, pulling his cane from his back while U’noloh unsheathed his sword. Jannie too readied herself before following the more nervous Miqo’te into the depths of the room below.

            For heretics gathered below before a wall etching of a dragon and woman. They chatted idly before spotting Y’zel. A look of relief washed over them before they noticed U’noloh swooping in from behind, Jannie not far after.

            “We’ve been followed! Kill the traitor,” the wide-eyed swordsman demanded before parrying U’noloh’s swing.

            “I-I know how to use this,” a cane-waving heretic cried out, flailing his rod toward Y’zel as the Miqo’te closed his eyes held his staff before him muttering.

            “S-stay away from me! Please,” another cried out, Jannie walking slowly toward them, claymore defensively displayed before her.

            “Y’zel, should you wish for this to end non-lethally, now is your chance,” Jannie called out.

            The Miqo’te nodded before lifting off his feet and spinning in a flourish of his own aether before a bright white burst of light emanated from his chest. The heretics were sent against the walls from the blast, U’noloh and Jannie remaining unaltered by the release of holy magicks.

            “It seems you’ve picked up a few tricks while you were with Y’mhitra,” Jannie commented, using her sword to roll over her former opponent while U’noloh quickly liberated the weapons and a few other things from the rest.

            “My time with my cousin and time in Gridania brought to light certain abilities, yes,” Y’zel said softly, approaching the statue of the woman and dragon.

            From behind alter, Iceheart revealed herself to the three of them. Jannie was quick to ready her sword again while U’noloh watched quietly, yellows eyes upon Y’zel as he weakly took another step forward.

            “Looking for me, I presume,” the heretic leader asked, eyes narrowed.

            “Sister. We-,” Y’zel started before feeling a strange aether surge from behind as Midgardsomr made himself present to them all.

            “Ahh, the children who’ve glimpsed the truth,” the elder dragon growled.

            U’noloh looked to the three, “What’s with the small dragon. You’re all set upon him like he said somethin’ profound.

            “Hush,” Jannie ordered.             

            Ysayle stared at the creature before her gaze softened in surprise, “No, it cannot be!”

            “She cameth unto me… as didst thou. Alike in gifts…yet set upon different paths.”

            Y’zel looked over his shoulder at Jannie, ears giving a very subtle bob while Ysayle moved to relax her stance. The Warrior of Light too let her sword relax in her grasp, letting the woman speak.

            “He speaks true, Warrior of Light. Like you, I have been blessed with the Echo much like Y’zel and the other two who share your mantle,” she started before lowering her gaze, “The visions terrified me at first. They came without warning. I wondered what I had done to deserve them and could only share them with Y’zel who could pick up on little fragments of what was happening to me.

            “But I had not time to ponder such things once the Calamity came. The land turned against us, and in a matter of hours, Falcon’s Nest was buried under ten fulms of ice and snow. We had no choice but to flee for Ishgard. We came to the wall, and while we searched for a way through, there was an avalanche. And then we were alone.

            “So we set forth for Dravania. I knew full well what might happen were we found, but we could not survive on our own.”

            Y’zel gave Jannie a little nod while Jannie sheathed her sword, eyes not leaving Ysayle’s icy gaze as she stared her down.

            “We were found, of course- and not by a mere dragon, but by the great wyrm Hraesvelr! And it was then I knew why we had been given this gift, for with it, we heard his voice, and I saw the truth through his eyes! I was chosen to deliver this revelation to the people to bring dragon and man together as they once were and should ever be!”

            Y’zel dropped his cane then shook his head, “And what of the innocents who died when you attacked the Foundation sister! Killing civilians won’t bring them together! Those were my friends! Their lives were hard enough before you…before we-“

            Jannie watched as Ysayle frowned, looking hurt by her brother’s harsh words as he began to sob. The woman shook her head, hand lifting to touch his ear before recoiling.

            “It wasn’t supposed to be like that! You have to believe me! It was…beyond my control…Children taught to feat the skies, who saw their loved ones slaughtered…Yet the Dravanians-though they know where the fault truly lies-fell upon them with such fury…”

            “Men die, and their children forget. But we are everlasting. To us, then is as now. Thou canst not comprehend the violation. The outrage. The fury,” Midgardsomr said, staring down Iceheart.

            The woman looked to the ground again, “I will make this right. I am neither a saint nor a savior-just another sinner. Yet I will not forsake this cause. I cannot. I will see this cycle broken and peace restored.

            “I…We can do naught else, for we are now as one…” she said before turning to leave, “Brother…”

            Y’zel did not answer, looking away from the woman. Quietly, Ysayle left them while Midgardsomr took his leave in a puff of aether.

            Jannie sighed then reached up to tighten the string on her bun while U’noloh looked around, eventually making his way over to pull Y’zel against his chest.

            “So what? She apologizes and  We just let her walk away? Don’t you think your Lord will be cross with us for letting her get away,” U’noloh asked.

            “In the greater scheme of things, it’s best we let her walk free for now. Our little friend seems to know something more than he’s willing to tell us, as does Y’zel.”

            Y’zel closed his eyes, pressing his face into U’noloh’s chest before opening them and looking back toward the Warrior of Light, “It’s not my story to tell.”

            Jannie frowned then shook her head. Hearing the movement above, she looked to the stairway, “Come, our patron awaits answers. For now, let us keep what has happened here to ourselves until we can discuss this with the others in private. Your silence outside my watch will be appreciated.”

            U’noloh simply shrugged then escorted Y’zel up and out of the cellar below. The three of them wrapped up their business promptly after, and after giving the young couple ample time to say their goodbyes, they returned back to the Fortemps Manor in the safety of Ishgard.

            The Miqo’te returned to his guise as their retainer, remaining cloaked and quiet, made to stay at Jannie’s side while she warmed up by the fires while U’rahn napped on the opposite couch.  She assumed Violet had immediately returned to The Forgotten Knight. As they relaxed, Artoirel approached the woman, dressed back in his finer clothes.

            “I would speak plain with you Lady Eyradoux…I would speak plain. From the first, I questioned you and your party’s motive and competence,” he started, eyeing U’rahn for a moment with Jannie before returning to his thought, Unjustly, I now realize.

            “Rumors have a way of growing more fantastic as they spread, and quiet frankly, those surrounding you and yours beggar belief. But Haurchefant swore that all the stories were true. He championed your cause and begged Father to grant you patronage…”

            “Which we are all grateful for,” Jannie answered in turn, crossing her leg over the other as she looked up at the other.

            Artoirel sighed, moving to sit opposite of her, careful not to interrupt the sleeping Miqo’te, looking toward the woman as they were the only two in the room. “My father duly listened, because for all his wisdom, he has never been able to say no to my dear half-brother, legacy of my father’s sole indiscretion. Mother hated him, of course. Even on her deathbed, she refused to acknowledge him. And…to be honest, she was not alone in her feelings.”

            “Is this really something you wish to be telling me?  Is this not all very personal family manner? Not to mention a poor reflection on your own personal character,” the Elezen asked.

            Atroirel nodded, “Yes, but that is not the worst of it..at Camp Riversmeet, when we came upon the wounded knight, I knew immediately that one us would have to pursue the heretics. An onerous task, fraught with danger…And there you were, the savior of Eorzea and honored guest of House Fortemps. My new comrade-in-arms. One of Haurchefant’s dear friends,” he sighed, hand lowering, stroking over U’rahn’s ear absently.

            “I told myself it was to be a test, but part of me…part of me hoped that you would fail. Yet you accepted the task without a word of protest, nor any sign of fear. And you duly tracked the enemy down, faced him alone, and lived to tell the tale.”

            Jannie simply let out a hum, finding herself having accurately taken the measure of the man. “So then, you’re in awe of me? I was simply doing the job I was given to assist those who have taken me in when none would have me.”

            “I would not say awe. Impressed. Enough to put my foot in my mouth, but I would not say awe.”

            “Then is your self-deprecation leading to a point? Perhaps an actual apology? Speak plainly.”

            Artoirel stiffened then heard a stray purr. His hand jerked from U’rahn’s ear as he abruptly stood, “Plainly, Haurchefant had the right of it all along. That I doubted your strength bespeaks mine own weakness. But I will not doubt you again, Jannie, on that you have my word,” he answered, giving her a deep bow.

            Jannie flushed a bit and turned her cheek, “I am little more than a mercenary. I perform the duty that I have been blessed with or is needed of me. There is no reason for a man of your station to lower himself in such a manner, your Lordship.”

            “Lordship? You seemed to have no trouble speaking your mind to me only a moment ago and now we’ve returned to formalities.”

            “My time with Miss Fisher has relaxed my tongue; however, I am Ishgardian. I know my place and though I may have performed feats that…beggar belief; at the end of the day I’m just a daughter of a forgotten family. You may keep your word and I will keep my duty.”

            “Well then…” Artoirel answered, hesitating a moment before wandering off.

            Y’zel looked up to Jannie as she touched her cheek then set her palms in her lap before smiling to himself before returning to a frown. Catching this, the Elezen gave him her attention, watching as he moved to lean in deeper into the couch to get comfortable. She couldn’t know what was on his mind after his brief reunion. That he remained behind hadn’t alleviated her worries on his loyalty, but for now, she was left to continue to trust him. That keeping him close would bring to light more of Ysayle’s place in their new adventure.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #ffxiv oc #ff xiv #ffxiv miqo'te #y'zel tia #u'rahn nuhn #ysayle dangoulain #jannie eyradoux #u'noloh tia #ffxiv heavensward #heavensward #at the end of our hope

[that-thing-that-feeling]

I rewatched all of ST before watching s4 and god it’s painful how much they forgot who the characters are. Rewatching s1 and genuinely the scenes with Joyce and Jonathan are excellent and really raw and speak to the realities of how much circumstances plague the Byers both supernatural and mundane and that feeling of doing your best to keep it together while drowning. Also I cannot believe we have never once gotten to see the impact of planning a funeral had on Jonathan. People talk a lot about guilt about Barb driving Nancy and kinda strong armed the writers into giving it more weight but I wish the same would be done with Jonathan. I also really think the writers needing to stop trying to pander to fanon and instead write a compelling story. Bc I think it cheats so many actors from getting to display depth. Like let Steve have more growth and be flawed in different ways, stop sending Joyce to Russia to have meh banter with a strangely unrecognizable action figure Hopper who delivers Marvel speeches while wielding a sword, and let Jonathan have scenes!! Also got take but Eddie is a pretty boring character and the fact that the differs chose to do a cartoonish take on freaks vs popular kids instead of an analysis on how Hawkins is a town trying to understand multiple violent tragedies and allowing grief to lead them into hatred. Also I think it would’ve been nice if they cut the Russia plot line fully bc it’s fully removed from the emotional heart of a small town tragedy and had Joyce with the Cali gang(imagine the way Argyle could’ve been a real character and we could’ve seen Joyce talk about her kids) but have Jonathan go to Hawkins. His visit coincides with the murders, he’s been at the center of multiple deaths, hell you could easily have people claiming he made a deal with the devil to bring will back to life. You have Steve and Jonathan and Nancy and Robin interacting showing the ways they’ve grown, especially S and J, where it would be an interesting call back to S1. To have them actually discuss that Steve did say the same things and what moving on looks like. Idk man I think that it’s a waste to make a reformed jock character fight to save an outcast from a group of popular kids and then literally not use the preexisting turning point for the reformation(Steve’s fight with Jonathan ). Sorry this is very long I just have so many questions as to why S4 made the stupidest decisions.

There were def some frustrating choices in s4! I liked how we finally got into the mythology of the UD and the El plus Henry/Vecna reveal, that Nancy was given a strong plot, lumax, the Jonathan and Will scene. But I thought the pacing was absurd, there was too little time given to the Cali plotline to fully develop it even though there was so much potential to it. Idk I think the Russia plot needed to be there for some Hopper redemption, Jopper, and fighting the hive mind, but it dragged way too much, spent too much time on Yuri, and Joyce was kept away from the Byers for too long and should have stayed in Cali longer. I think everything with Eddie is kind of a mess for the show bc he’s overshadowed all mains and it means they have to spend time in the final season devoted to a new character bc they were scared to kill off a main. I really don’t think the final season of the show should be spending a lot of time on Dustin mourning Eddie. I think Jonathan needed to be in Cali, but then they ridiculously underused him. So I def understand some of the frustrations, altho I did like the ending/cliffhanger. But it is just such a different show than s1, and I miss emotional character writing, especially the kind they had for the Byers.

[arch-dieangelo]

self indulgent self para under the cut. trigger warnings: canon typical mentions of death and familial death. takes place between the last olympian and the lost hero. non rp blogs please do not interact, thank you.

One month after the final battle against Kronos in New York City, things went to shit again.

Nico heard the Doors of Death weakening before he saw the proof of monsters coming back to life as soon as they were slain. When people died, there was a ringing in his ears—annoying, but easy enough to ignore for the most part. The dead defying the natural order was more a debilitating screech that went on for several minutes, millions of nails on chalkboards broadcasted through the strongest speakers in the world.

He collapsed to his knees in pain, clamping his hands over his ears like it could protect him from a noise only he could hear. His vision went spotty, and all he thought was that this would be a terrible way to die—doubled over on the ground without a tangible enemy or single physical wound.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he felt the minute vibrations through the floor as someone walked around him. Whoever it was spoke to him, but he couldn’t hear them. Finally, the screeching faded to a low hum leaving his head aching. Nico’s hands fell and he blinked, vision returning.

Thalia stared down at him, concern written across her face. The Hunters would bring stray demigods now and then, since the promise the gods made, so her visits to camp were becoming frequent. She offered a hand, and he let her help him up.

“I thought you left a few hours ago,” he said, sounding distracted.

“Chiron needed help.” She let go once he was steady. “What was that?”

Nico didn’t hear her, his mind was busy darting around to string together explanations and possibilities. If the Doors were open, monsters and mortals wouldn't stay dead. Death himself had to be captured.

And if things won’t stay dead, who’s to say that those that have died a while ago, can’t get another chance at life?

“Hey. Earth to Nico.” Thalia lightly punched his arm, bringing him back to reality. Her voice lowered when she said, “Something’s happening. I don’t know what, but it’s definitely not good.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “You felt it too. The Doors are open.” She raised an eyebrow, and immediately he was annoyed. “If you actually took me up on my Mythomagic offer…” he grumbled, but waved it off. “The Doors of Death and Thanatos. They keep dead things dead, and now the Doors are open and Death himself has disappeared.”

“And now the dead won’t stay dead,” she concluded.

He shifted his weight. “It’ll be gradual. I don’t think we’ll see the effects of this immediately, but it’ll be quick, and it won’t be pretty.”

Thalia’s expression darkened, and if Nico squinted and the lighting was just right, he could pretend that he was talking to Bianca. Even when she wasn’t here, she was here. The ghost of her lingered in every interaction he had, whatever it was. Some days, he wished she would stop haunting him, though there were no actual hauntings, just him yearning to see his sister when he most needed her. He was glad he felt her now, real or not, because it meant he could follow through with the plan that was brewing in his mind.

“No,” said Thalia. Sometimes, he thought she could see right through him. He had heard something about her having a sibling in the whispers of the dead, but nothing solid. Surely, she knew loss. She was there when Bianca died. She had to know.

He stared at her, and she looked older even though she’d be fifteen for the rest of her life. Maybe all Hunters are like that, wise beyond their years and shrouded in silver. Bianca should have been like that. She deserved the chance for that. He made up his mind. “I have to try.”

Thalia sighed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave me a lot of possibilities, does it?” He smiled.

She matched his expression and shook her head. “No. No it doesn’t, little cousin. I should be going. We’re already late, and I have to warn my Hunters of what’s to come. You owe me a burger next time we meet.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “And Thalia, scatter the dust after a kill. It’ll make reforming harder.”

The Underworld was more of a home than Camp Half-Blood. He felt comfortable entering the realm. Cerberus looked at him expectantly as spirits passed under the giant three-headed rottweiler.

“No treats right now, buddy, I’m sorry. I’ll bring you something next time,” he promised. Cerberus whined, and a couple of spirits narrowly avoided getting crushed under his paws. Nico waited for the dog to calm down, and slipped through.

He took a detour to his father’s palace, ignoring the skeletal guards posted at regular intervals as he got closer. The palace wasn’t of interest right now, anyway. Right before the looming gate, Persephone’s garden grew wildly. He knelt and dug his hands into the dirt, shoveling it out to create a messy, single square foot deep hole.

Halfheartedly, he muttered an apology to his step-mother for yet again ruining her pristine garden, but this was assuredly more important than pomegranate trees. Into the hole, he poured a five-hour energy drink and tossed a granola bar. He made sure to tuck the empty bottle and wrapper back into his pocket. There was no littering in the Underworld.

For once, he was nervous about doing this. It was second nature now, but the only reason he’s summoning Bianca instead of marching into Elysium and taking her away himself is because he stopped feeling her presence a few weeks ago. From the moment she died, he could sense her right under him every step he took. For the past few weeks, he’s been getting nothing. This is his final opportunity, a plea that his plan can still work, that Bianca can get her second chance.

He stood, brushed the dirt from his jeans, and began chanting. His voice became louder, more commanding. Heavy footsteps sounded from behind him, yet he continued, not allowing himself to waver or be distracted. He took her name with all the strength and focus he could muster, and was met with absolutely nothing. He cracked his eyes open. She hadn’t shown. Maybe he messed up.

“That’s enough.” Hades stood a few feet away, in his suit that shifted between perilous souls of the damned.

“Dad. I’m busy,” he complained. This should have worked. He checked that his preparations were correct. Hades stepped forward into his peripheral vision. He shook his head and squared his shoulders, determined to enter Elysium and get her out anyway. As he turned, Hades stopped him, standing in his path. “Let me go.”

“Nico,” he said with a sigh. It was the first time since the war that he’s seen him, and though he’s immortal, the god looks like he’s aged decades. “She has already been given a second chance.” Disappointment laced his voice uncharacteristically. His image flickered before solidifying again.

“No…” Even as he said that, Nico knew his father was right. Bianca had spoken about rebirth last he saw her. “She wouldn’t leave me.” He was the one who was supposed to give her the second chance at life, to bring her back. Hades expression remained impassive, though a shadow seemed to cross his face. “She wouldn’t leave me,” he repeated, weaker. Hades didn’t bother with an apology, despite the fact that he, of everyone, could have stopped it. Nico balled his fists in anger.

“There are bigger problems brewing,” Hades said. “Ones that even I have little control over. You must be understanding, son. Soon, I will not be able to help you. All you can do is try again.” With that, the god disappeared into a cloud of black smoke.

Nico let out an agonized scream and punched at the space where his father had been standing. He pulled at his hair until the physical pain overrode the emotional, and tried not to break down in his hands. Useless. He glared at the stupid hole he made and kicked at the excavated dirt.

The air above the hole shimmered, and he stopped, foot still raised and dirt sprinkling off his boot. Slowly, he set it back down. He leaned close, trying to make out what the blurry vision was. It never came into full focus, but he could make out the unmistakable black grass of the Fields of Asphodel and a gnarled poplar tree. He tried concentrating on the scene to get more information, and the image fizzled out. If it wasn’t him who made the vision appear, it was literal divine intervention. Whoever did this wanted him to go to the fields, and as much as he wanted to defy the wills of the gods, he knew this would be important to him. In a rush, he had the hole refilled, and he left the garden.

The Fields were sad. That’s the best way he could describe the landscape in front of him. Millions, billions, of half-formed shades milled about aimlessly, shoulder to shoulder. Nico felt suffocated as he walked into the meadow, the ghosts gaining a moment of physicality when they touched him. None of them retained their memories after having drank from the Lethe, mumbling incoherently and appearing disoriented.

In a way, Asphodel was worse than Punishment.

He pulled out his sword to keep the shades away from him and clear a path as he got closer to a collection of poplar trees that dotted the Fields. Something was pulling him there, someone. They had some sort of connection to Hades, or maybe a similar god. Thanatos? No. He had heard about the Roman aspects of the gods before…

Finally, there was a small clearing where some ghosts stayed subconsciously away from. A girl that looked more living than dead sat with her back against a tree. He tilted his head, keeping a distance from her.

Pluto. A daughter of Pluto. His half-sister.

And she shouldn’t be here. She had been offered Elysium and turned it down. No one in their right senses chooses the Fields of Asphodel over an eternity celebrating in Elysium. She can’t spend the rest of her death in apathetic misery, especially not when she remembers her old life, even when she shouldn’t.

Especially not if he can regain some family.

There was a reason why he was sent here. Not to resurrect Bianca, she had taken a different route, but her. This girl, his other sister, he can bring back.

He stepped forward, forcing confidence into his stride as he approached her. Nico locked eyes with her.

“You’re different,” he said, a chill running down his spine. “A child of Pluto,” not Hades. “You remember your past.”

“Yes.” The girl looked up at him with a sort of understanding. “And you’re alive.”

He studied her for a long moment, processing that she was real, that this interaction was real. “I’m Nico di Angelo,” he said finally. “I came looking for my sister. Death has gone missing, so I thought…I thought I could bring her back and no one would notice.” Thinking of the plan and enacting it were two different things. On the surface level it was easy, find Bianca and then leave. Life–or Death, he supposes–had a different plan.

“Back to life?” she asked. “Is that possible?”

She sounded so much like Bianca, that Nico considered leaving before his heart broke anymore, but he sighed. “It should have been. She chose to be reborn into a new life. I’m too late.”

“I’m sorry.”

The apology he should have gotten from Hades was said by a sister he didn’t know existed until ten minutes ago. He held out his hand for her to take. “You’re my sister too. You deserve another chance. Come with me.”

“You don’t even know my name,” she said, but took his hand regardless.

He pulled her up, her ghostly form solidifying as they touched. “I’d like to learn.”

“Hazel Levesque.”

Bianca was reborn into another life, one that Nico would never know of. It was better that way. He couldn’t keep holding onto the past.

He walked with Hazel out of the Fields, not letting go of her hand in fear of losing her too. His other hand held his sword in front of them, and he saw Hazel grimace in its purple light. She would have to learn a lot, but the children of Hades, Pluto, whatever, were some of the strongest. He had full faith that she would do fine, better than him even. He just needed to figure out where to take her. Camp Half-Blood was out of the question, she was Roman, it simply wouldn’t work.

This sister, he would keep safe. He wouldn’t let the same fate befall her, he simply couldn’t. Her life wouldn’t end as unfairly as it did the first time. Hazel Levesque would not die. His sister would not die. Not again.

When he pulled Hazel out of the Doors, it took her a few minutes to come back into her physical body. She took it well, examining that she was all there and she was real.

She was real.

She grinned hugely at him, and he smiled back, cheeks hurting.

“I’m alive,” Hazel said, with the fascination only someone who had been dead for nearly a century could have.

Nico nodded. “How does it feel?”

She didn’t answer him, and instead inched closer, arms open. When he didn’t back off, she enveloped him in a bone crushing hug, the type he hadn’t gotten since Bianca left for her quest and never came back. He slowly wrapped his own arms around her, returning it.

He laughed. “Must be a little overwhelming, right, Bian- Hazel?”

Hazel untangled herself from him, and he swore he saw her step over a few coin sized gems as she backed up. A question for another time.

“Hazel,” he tried again, making sure he said the right name. “You must be hungry. Let’s get something to eat. Future food is wild. You’re going to love it.”

He had a sister.

#PARA. #ooc notes on this because im actually terrible at these things (boo tomato tomato tomato): #nico has difficulty keeping the separation between his sisters. its stupid its selfish its hurtful to both of them. he knows this #he doesn't fully get over what happened to bi until probably mid-hoo #his intentions in resurrecting were purely selfish. he's a kid. he wanted some sort of family after everyone else abandoned him #and bi was the only one he had for the longest time #he learns he grows he figures it out he apologizes he heals #and well eventually hl's resurrection was also written by fate/planned by others anyway. #pluto simply looked the other way after she came back to life and thanatos was released. not their problem anymore! #we love u hl <3 best ever im so serious

[fairy-writes]

Okie I know you’ve done a doctor who matchup for me but omfg I saw you had Dresden files on your fandom list and was wondering if I could have a romantic matchup? I love that series omfg

My pronouns are she/her and im bisexual.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬: I have massive introverted tendencies and am awkward in nature with new people. As a result I can come across as aloof and indifferent at first. I absolutely despise small talk. However with my friends I’m quite friendly and outgoing. Whenever I’m with my friends I can get really giggly and dorky when talking abt my recent hyperfixations. I open up to people very easily if we have similar interests. That’s when the chaotic theories and wacky ideas spout out. I tend to either overthink everything or not think at all. I’m a bit of a control freak and want to do the things the way I do them but I won’t enforce this on anyone else unless the result directly affects me. Just let me do things the way I do them. I'm also quite dedicated and ambitious on what I want in my life and will stand by those decisions.

𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦: Art. Any art honestly. Though I mostly work with digital mediums. That is, I love to creative code. I love working with interaction design, web design, user experience and user interfaces. I also love special effects, and 3D/2d modeling. I’m currently trying to build my own mini video game. Apart from this, I love other mediums of art too especially drawing, digital illustrating, and printmaking.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦: let’s just say I spend way too much time daydreaming. Fan fiction, video games, movies, books, tv shows. Anything that lets me daydream and disappear from reality for a while is a hobby of mine. I also love working out and weight lifting.

LIKES: I love lazy weekends at home, classic arcades, vanilla lattes, learning random new facts, spending time alone, intelligence, creativity, a good sense of witty humor, conversations where you can just be yourself and skip all the awkward small talk, the look on people’s faces when they ramble abt the stuff they’re into, wearing way too much jewelry, a good home cooked meal, summer and warm weather, a good giggling session with friends esp abt fictional crushes ahahha.

DISLIKES: hugging and physical touch, large crowds, seriousness to a fault, cold weather, admitting my anxieties, talking on the phone, going to the doctor/dentist, people who are “courageous” but are really idiots jumping into things without thinking, small talk, backstabbing people, when people have no ambition/purpose in life

Thank you!

Hello again lovely! I got so pumped to write your matchup when I saw it! I LOVE the Dresden Files! I actually have a story in progress with it! I hope you like your matchup! 

I pair you with… Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden!

(this is the only gif I could find of Harry that wasn't Harry Styles)

(I couldn’t resist, lmao)

(Also, we’re ignoring the fact that I genuinely have no clue how old Harry is, so this could be completely off)

OKAY, SO HARRY DRESDEN. Resident mess and our favorite spell-slinging wizard is your perfect match!

The two of you initially met through Karen Murphy! You and Murphy are great friends, and it’s only natural that she introduces you to the significant people in her life. That significant person being Harry Dresden. Harry takes an instant liking to you when he sees how much you and Murphy care for each other. It takes some time with mutual pining (cause who wouldn’t pine after Dresden? I know I probably would, either that or terrified cause he’s a literal giant), but he eventually asks you out, and you start dating!

Small talk? What’s small talk? Harry absolutely despises it just as much as you do, so don’t worry about him bringing up pointless topics in conversation. He loves to hear you talk! The two of you have similar interests, so it can get pretty chaotic pretty quickly, but he loves every second of it. He’s had a long and lonely life without someone to really call his, without there being some sort of caveat or problem after getting with them. But there are no such things with you, so you both just get to be happy :)

Harry typically lets you do whatever you want in the relationship (within reason, don’t go cheating on this wizard). The only time he really puts his foot down is when the results could get you in danger or trouble with the wizarding world or with fae folk. But he loves your ambition! He thinks it’s incredibly attractive and pushes him to do more in his own life.

So video games, movies, and tv shows are a no-go. They don’t mix well with magic, so books are really the only thing he likes to surprise you with. They’re usually obscure titles and books because Harry prefers shopping local and at hole-in-the-wall bookshops instead of huge company chains. Overall, this wizard loves you a whole lot and enjoys your company!

#fairytailwzard matchup #fairytailwzard matchups #harry dresden #the dresden files #dresden files

[nazumichi]

shirou?

Hc a (realistic):

I like to think he has a lot of scars. I mean of course he would, he throws himself off buildings multiple times, plus additional reckless behaviours and violent actions. They mostly go unseen because of the long sleeves but they are most definitely there (thinks aggressively hard about this one piece of concept art).

Also Michiru thinks they’re SO cool. He sometimes sees the bite mark he gave her shoulder in the battle and tries to apologise but she’s just like “don’t worry about it, the ladies love scars!!” And he goes “……. Sure.”

Hc b (while it may not be realistic, it’s hilarious):

I made a post about this a day or so back, I think he often passes out after fights because he just. Never sleeps. He falls asleep amongst broken bones and the stench of an alleyway, and Michiru dons a gorilla arm to pick him up like he’s a squeaky toy.

Or the alternative, which is Marie grabbing his arms and dragging him across the street to the co-op’s door (and then she drags him up the stairs, he’ll definitely feel that in the morning). This is what happens when you limit yourself to an hour of sleep in your office chair </3

Hc c (heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends):

I like thinking about Shirou and how he feels the weight of responsibility. How he feels guilt for problems he can’t fix, how he puts himself and anything he wants last, how he lives by request after request. How he slowly starts to see himself the way some others do; a weapon, a protector, a guardian angel before an actual person.

And I think he’s stretching himself too thin and becoming a shell of a man and sacrificing the things he wants for himself because how could they ever be worth more than keeping this place safe? Anyway.

Hc d (unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own):

Now, this one’s kind of canon, if you do some reading into things (which I notoriously love to do). I think Shirou turns a blind-eye to a lot of Marie’s antics, that he goes easy on her, that he doesn’t treat her like he treats other “troublemakers” in his city. He’s so strictly against those kinds of people, and he’s been in this city for so long, yet Marie still runs around doing whatever she wants whenever she wants.

Could he stop her? It may be tricky, but yes. But he hasn’t, she still sells faulty inventions and illegal technology and still is a threat to the safety of others. But he doesn’t *do* anything about it. The most he’s ever called her out on anything was 1. when he glared at her interruption on her boat 2. called her out on manipulating stock prices/his protégé and 3. made the vaguest threat you’ve ever heard.

He’s guilty of making exceptions and having soft-spots, is my take. Or he constantly tries to put her in her place and gets too tongue-tied and leaves every interaction with a red face and the rage of a thousand gods.

ask game!!

#ask #i love this guy (gn) so much ouh #also I feel like I should apologise for my predictability (making the last hc so long) #romana tag

[jess-moloney]

 "Once again she’s got everyone doing the work for her and popping up to act like she had total part in it when the reality is that she either didn’t have any part or if she did she’s horrible at her “job”."

Jess obviously thinks everyone is stupid and is trying to gaslight with her antics. She sets up a last minute booth and photo shoot, paying any random influencer to make it seem like she is actually working. Reposting rappers who don't even mention the items worn is for Ice Studios. Everything is like the stolen content Jess posts. it is as if she is sitting at home and letting others do the work for her. Only we don't know what exactly she does. As we don't see her with any of these people that she posts. When did Jess even interact with any of these influencers that she posted before last week. What events has she gone to where she has reached out to the hip hop demographic? I feel as if Jess is desperate. She rushed to pay anybody that would take a check to repost or wear this stuff. All so she can seem legit. A scam artist if I ever saw one.

The only way Jess gets away with this is because she's a nobody. As I said, if people knew the brand (or her) at least one of these people would have said something to her by now. Said something about Ice Studios. The only people who are also somewhat famous and follow here don't even regularly like her posts. Even posts about them. If they like they rarely comment. She gets ignored to an extremely high level for someone who is also supposed to be this really successful PR agent/Manager/Fashion Designer/Business owner. Literally, no one cares about her or this brand.

These random influencers were just random people, some of them with less than 1000 followers. I'm sure she offered them all a bunch of freebies if they showed up as long as they promised to make a story about it (can't see any posts about it, haven't checked all of the accounts) the accounts I have checked never said anything about Ice Studios in a post. One of the girls (the one who I guess set up the booth and called Jess an Angel) did wear the cargo skirt in a few posts but only one did she acknowledge Renell. The others she just happened to be wearing the skirt (no shout out to where she got it) so how much can she passionately care about the brand?

Jess is the only white lady in a group of POC artists and she also doesn't do any art. She doesn't contribute. She doesn't get them work. She doesn't haul her own weight. She doesn't do anything useful to anyone and when they give her some task to complete, like this booth, she makes it awful. Why does Renell associate with her at all? Why does Nikki? What is their loyalty to her other than she owns half the company? Or is that their only loyalty to her? They have to "be nice" and they have to follow her because they can't get rid of her but in reality, they hate her guts? I can't imagine she's comfortable in that group, not because of her race, but because she literally doesn't do anything whatsoever that they do. She doesn't have a job, she doesn't do photography. She doesn't paint. She doesn't model. She doesn't style hair. She can't be called an artist in any sense of the word (as an actual artist wouldn't steal pictures and try to pass them off as their own).

I'm pretty sure that if any of these stans stopped to look at this, really think about it, see that her posts get almost no engagement, see that these people she tags don't talk about Ice Studios, see that these celebs don't follow her, see that she has nothing to do with any of this they might come around and realize that she's just a fraud. Unfortunately, they don't like the version of reality where Jess is just using everyone (including Jamie) for personal gain so they stay in their fantasy world where she's miss perfect gothic witch queen. It's infuriating because she'll probably never get caught with what she's doing and she'll just hurt everyone she can on her way to the top. Or more accurately try to get to the top because really I don't think she's ever getting anywhere behaving like this if she hasn't already.

#jess moloney #ice studios #mail