#ya doing something that will be remembered for years to come is cool and all but what about leaving that will be paved forward?

[stephaniebrownthespoiler]

thinking about legacy

thinking about what it means to have one what it takes to move it forward

thinking of Dick in who both dreads and expects to be saddled with a legacy that he has spent so much of his life getting away from

thinking of Jason taking on a legacy of the man that killed him as what-a from reclaiming his life? a form of rebellion? or has it corrupted him? has he become a true legacy of the hurt caused to him?

thinking of Tim and how he didn't really want the legacy at all and yet he gives his everything to be worthy of it and to honour it and ends up in so many ways redefining it

thinking of Damian and how he was taught he was entitled to it and how much he has come to honour it

thinking of Babs and just how much she struggles to pave her legacy forward how angry she was at bruce was seemingly giving her mantle away how proud she was to hand it over to Cass how apprehensive and defensive she was about passing it to Steph

jus thinking about legacies and what they mean

#ya doing something that will be remembered for years to come is cool and all but what about leaving that will be paved forward? #creating and passing on something that succeed past you #a blueprint passed onto someone who hs perfected and reimagined what you sought to accomplish #trying to delete legacies was the stupidest descision dc ever made #ok uh tags #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #batman #robin #batgirl #second's comic corner

[featherandferns]

guilty as sin? (fic - part 1/2)

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | largely inspired by the bible

content warning: sexual content; mentions of parental abuse (physical abuse) | any questions for trigger warnings, feel free to inbox anonymously

word count: 14k.

blurb: when you, John B's half sister, return to Kildare after over two years of living in Colorado, your adolescent crush that you harboured for his best friend comes screaming back. Because you and JJ can't be together in real life, what's the harm in a fantasy?

“And this is your room.”

The syrup-coloured wood is the first thing your eyes meet when John B pushes open the bedroom door. There’s the vague lingering smell of teenage boy which he’s tried to air out, the window open ajar, and the clutter of his belongings has been moved to make space for your own. As you drop your duffel bag and step into the room, you take in the walls. There’s posters and prints stuck above his bed, dotted around on slats of wood separating windows: someone surfing; a rockstar smashing his guitar. An old skateboard deck is nailed into the wall alongside a license plate. The sheets are bright blue, the bed freshly made, and a clean towel is folded up at the foot. It’s well-lit with plenty of daylight flowing through the many windows. Homely and inviting.

“Is it, uh, alright?”

You turn to find John B leaning against the doorframe, hands in his short pockets. Smiling, you nod.

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “I’m honestly chill with crashing on the couch, though.”

It’s pretty obvious this was his room: you feel guilty kicking him out.

He shakes his head and gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “I moved into my dad’s room anyway. This has been the spare for a while.”

“Well, thanks,” you smile.

He nods, mirroring your content. “I’ll let you settle in and stuff. I moved all my crap out the closet so you can put your stuff in there, and the top bedside drawer is empty.”

“That’s perfect,” you say. You lift your bag with a grunt and dump it on the bed.

“I gotta go to work but call if you need anything. Shouldn’t be back too late.”

Unzipping your bag, you look to him. “Where’d you work?”

“Got this gig helping out at Ward Cameron’s. Don’t know if you remember him?”

“Course I do,” you snort. “The kingpin of Kildare, and your dad’s treasure hunting buddy.”

There’s a tense silence as your words catch up with you. You press your eyes shut, embarrassed.

“Shit, sorry. That didn’t come out how I meant it to.”

“It’s cool,” John B says, graciously gliding past it. “Anyway, he pays pretty good so can’t complain. Mostly just handy-man odd jobs.”

“Very noble work,” you joke.

With a quiet laugh, John B nods and backs out the door. He lingers another moment, contemplating saying something else. “Look, uh, I know it isn’t ideal circumstances, you coming back to Kildare and stuff, but I’m glad you’re here. Really. It’s nice having you back, sis.”

Your mood sobers, smile turning solemn.

“Thanks,” you quietly reply.

He nods once more and pats the doorframe in farewell. “Right, I’ll let you get unpacked. See you later.”

“See ya.”

When John B leaves – the front door shuddering against the house as it slams shut – you’re overcome with quiet. In Colorado, where you lived with your mom in the city, there was little nature. You forgot how peaceful Kildare is. Through the crack in the window, birdsong and cricket chimes accompany the sound of your unpacking. You turf out your clothes and take to putting them in the closet. Shoes and bags and bikinis. A jacket and a few sweatshirts. It was easy enough to plan for your outfits considering you’re only staying the summer. You remember the weather in Kildare well enough from when you used to live here.

Once you’ve unpacked your clothes, you find your paints. A box of watercolours which have seen much use and love, the hinges rusted and the inside of the palette smeared with dried mixed paint. Turning to the bedside table, you pull open the bottom drawer on accident. You come face to face with corny porno magazines, a box of tissues, two wrapped condoms and a half empty bottle of painkillers.

“Gross,” you mutter, slamming it shut. Yep, this was definitely a dude’s bedroom.

The top drawer is empty, like John B promised. You fill it with your paints and sketchbooks and pencils.

As the day ploughs on, the room becomes increasingly saturated with your personality. Postcards from Colorado, of the towns and cities you visited, photographs from school of your friends and classmates: you scatter them along them wall, amongst John B’s. Some of your favourite paintings, alongside artists which inspire you, join the mix. On the desk you add a few of your own books to the haphazard stack of abandoned homework and school reports.

At the bottom of your duffle bag is your penny board. You look around the room, searching for empty space to slot it without adding to already cluttered surroundings, and opt to slot it under the bed. Ducking down, you come face to face with a collection of empty beer cans. Clearly the spring cleaning only went so far. It’s noisy as you drag them out, but you’re certain you hear someone shouting. Pausing, sitting back on your haunches, you turn to peer out the open bedroom door. It’s silent for a moment, and then you hear footsteps.

“Yo! JB, you home?”

It’s a guy shouting. His voice sounds vaguely familiar. When he comes into the corridor, he glances into Big John’s bedroom (now claimed by your older half-brother) first. Blonde messy hair and well-worn combat boots instantly name him. JJ.  He turns to the spare bedroom and stops short the moment his eyes land on you, sat amongst a pile of trash.

“You’re not John B,” he says.

“What gave me away?” you reply with a lift of your brows.

There’s a long awkward moment where he stares at you. You can practically hear the cogs turning as he takes you in. When you lift your arm up to scratch the back of your neck, realisation dawns upon him. You imagine your scar on the outside of your elbow gave you away.

“Holy crap! Little Routledge?” he gapes.

You laugh. “Haven’t been called that in a minute.”

JJ steps into the room and you get to your feet. He tackles you into a hug. It’s too short, too sudden, and then he’s stepping away from you again, leaving you dizzy on your feet.

“The fuck? You’re, like, grown now,” he says.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “well, I am sixteen.”

“The fuck!” he repeats. He then takes in where you’re standing, and the state of the room, and frowns. “Wait, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Colorado with your mom?”

“I was,” you say. You kick one of the cans out the way and fold your arms over your chest, shrugging. “I came back for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s sick!”

You laugh. It’s a nice reaction to have from someone who you haven’t seen for over two years.

“John B gave you his old room then?”

He walks into it as if it’s his own. You watch as he studies the new additions to the wall that you’ve added. Lingers on one of your paintings.

"Yeah, he’s moved into his dad’s, apparently.”

“Yeah, he moved in there a while ago,” JJ tells you. “I’ve been sleeping in here most of the time.”

Your mind flashes back to the bedside drawer stocked with teenage boy necessities. Ah, makes sense. You remember how JJ was when you were a dorky thirteen-year-old. At the ripe age of fourteen, he had girls fawning after him. He was shameless in his reputation. The conversations you overheard between himself and John B as he’d brag about his escapades are seared into your memory, as you felt your wasted preteen heart splinter with every tale. It’s no surprise now that he’s probably just as unruly. Especially considering how he looks. There isn’t much time to ogle though because he’s looking away from the décor, meeting your gaze again.

“That explains all the empty beer cans, then,” you say.

He cringes. “Yeah, uh, sorry ‘bout that.”

You shrug. “It’s cool. I need to toss ‘em out but I don’t know where the trash bags are…”

“Oh, right,” he says, breezing past you. His cologne lingers in the air when he leaves. There’s the smallest moment for you to catch your breath as JJ bangs around in the kitchen, and then he reappears with a roll of black bags. Tosses them to you and you catch. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

You begin to shove the cans into the bag and JJ starts to help. His black button-up gapes open as he leans over and it takes everything not to glance down his shirt like some pervert.

“How come you didn’t want to stay in Colorado for the summer, then?”

“Change of scenery,” you vaguely reply. It isn’t a complete lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either.

“Well, you chose the best summer to come back. Our mission this year is to have the best summer of all time.”

“Pretty lofty goal to set,” you chuckle.

JJ glances up at you, flashing you a grin. “Nah, we got it in the bag.”

You find yourself smiling back, held captive under his stare. When he takes the now full trash bag off you, tying it off, you snap out of it.

“So, where’s your brother at then?” he asks, heading out the room. You follow.

“At work. Said he does jobs for Cameron now.”

“Oh, yeah. Cameron sorta took him under his wing after his dad…went missing,” JJ replies.

You have a feeling that the way people talk about John B’s father is rather doctored.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” you tell him, referring to Big John.

As you step on the porch, the sunlight warms your face. The floorboards creak as you make your way down them, to the garbage can outside.

“It was insane,” JJ says to you. He tosses the trash away. “I mean, we all knew Big John was a bit too into the whole royal-merchant thing but…we never thought it’d go that far, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Scary.”

JJ looks at you a moment longer. Then, he laughs to himself and shakes his head. “Can’t believe you’re sixteen now.”

“Can’t believe you’re seventeen.”

“What? I look good or something?”

He does a small spin on the spot, arms held out by his sides. You roll your eyes, acting as if you’re unaffected. It’s hard to swallow the reflex reaction of yes.

“Or something,” you say.

JJ takes it in stride. “Well, you look pretty cute yourself considering you’ve been in the mountains for the last three years.”

“I don’t live in the mountains,” you snort. The word ‘cute’ rattles around your head like a pinball.

“You’re taller now too. Practically come up to my shoulders. I remember when me and John B could pick you up by your ankle like a marlin.”

“Yeah, I remember that too,” you not-so-fondly recall.

JJ grins and steps over to you. Despite both of your growth spurts, you still have to look up at him, and him down at you. His eyes are just as dreamy as you remember them. When you first left for Colorado, you hardly had time to pack. In the midst of chaos, taking a picture of your brother’s best friend didn’t seem all that important. Cut to you spending endless nights trying to remember his eyes, the exact colour and the exact shape. Trying to remember the dimples that popped out when he smiled. The pure joy in his laugh. The way your heart felt like it might explode whenever he looked at you, even if it were for a second.

But when JJ pats your head, your chest deflates.

“Well, see you around, little Routledge,” he says, stepping away. “Tell your brother I was looking for him.”

Because even after all these years, you’re still just John B’s little sister in JJ’s eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You stare into your can of cider. In the night, the only light being that from the bonfire John B started up in the backyard, you can’t make out the colour of it. Just the swirling of liquid. You’d spent the last three days working on a watercolour of the marsh side to John B’s house, but you couldn’t capture the movement of the water quite right.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Pope frowns.

“What’s there to be confused about, Pope?” JJ sighs, seemingly exhausted from the questions. There had been an influx of them the minute John B brought you out of the Chateau. “His mom shagged her dad and boom, here she is.”

“Charming mental images there, JJ, thanks,” John B cringes.

You laugh into your drink.

“No, I get that. But…You used to live here, right?” Pope asks you.

You nod.

“But then you moved to Colorado?”

“Yeah?”

“But now you’re back here?”

“Apparently,” you say.

Pope’s frown deepens: apparently that cleared nothing up for him. You’ve never known someone so analytical. “This is complicated,” he observes.

“No shit,” Kiara quips.

It was complicated. Families usually are. You and John B had different dads, in short. Your shared mom cheated on Big John when John B was hardly a year old, putting you around 11 or so months behind him. She ran off to Raleigh with your dad to try and fix their tumultuous relationship, leaving you with Big John for practically thirteen years. Whilst he wasn't unkind to you, he never saw you as his. You supposed you were a reminder of his ex-wife's unfaithfulness. But John B treated you like blood, as did his friends.

Just after your thirteen birthday, your mom decided to flee the state, and she was taking you with her. It all came out of the blue. You weren’t exactly thrilled to go to Colorado. You liked Kildare, and North Carolina, and John B and his friends. Kiara was always nice to you. She never talked down to you, despite you being seen as John B’s little sister. You bonded over turtles and Bob Marley. JJ was different. He’d prank you with John B and tease you about your dolls, but he’d also patch you up if you fell and calm you down after a nightmare. Your crush on him evolved naturally over time. What started as childhood infatuation with the supposed delinquent of Kildare became real. You liked JJ. He was funny and rambunctious, but he had a kindness and tenderness that he kept hidden below. He was often at the house as his own family situation was far from perfect, so having him around became as familiar as John B’s presence. When you left, JJ gave you a hug that you wished would last a lifetime.

But you drifted away in Colorado. You didn’t have anybody’s phone number, save for Big John’s (which your mom refused to let you use), and you were too young to remember addresses to write to them. Social media was never something you latched onto and eventually it all faded away into a strange, dreamlike memory. Being back here is almost proof that you didn’t imagine the whole thing.

“We’re half siblings,” you say, whittling down your family history into a simple statement. “That’s all you really need to know.”

“Damn straight,” JJ whoops, downing the last of his drink. He crunches the can in his fist and heads to the cooler for another.

“You’re staying for the whole summer then?” Kiara asks.

You nod. “I’m tryna get a job at this restaurant in town to keep me busy.”

“Screw that. Just come smoke and surf with us all day, that’ll keep you occupied,” JJ grins.

He’s comfortable in himself, relaxing in a lawn chair, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His t-shirt represents one of Kildare’s small-town establishments and his shorts are stained with dust and dirt from riding his bike.

“She’s the good one out of us lot,” John B announces, gesturing to you. “Out of all the Routledge offspring, she’s gonna go places. You’re not gonna taint that, JJ.”

“And by ‘all the Routledge offspring’ you mean yourself and her?” Pope checks.

John B nods fervently. “I’m telling you! She’s madly talented.”

“You’re drunk; it’s giving you beer goggles,” you dismiss, finishing your drink.

“You were always the creative one,” JJ remarks. Everyone looks over to him. “Me and John B would be out on the water and she’d be drawing it.”

“Maybe you can show us some of your stuff,” Kiara says.

You laugh and shake your head. “Maybe not.”

The alcohol wizzes up your body as you get to your feet and you take it as a good time to call it quits.

“I think I’m gonna head in.”

“What?”

“No!”

“Come on!”

You laugh, shaking off the group’s disputes. “I’m tired!”

“Lightweight,” JJ teases. You flip him off as you pass, ditching your empty can in the garbage as you go.

“Night guys!” you holler as you head back into the house.

“Night!”

The bedroom John B offered you is starting to feel less like a guest house. You shrug off your cardigan – it stinks of smoke from the fire – and close the door. Through the window, you can hear the group chattering.

Pope seems nice. He hadn’t been around when you lived in Kildare, but you recognised his name. Heyward was a legend on the Cut; you could see his dad in his eyes. Kiara was just as you remembered her, if not more consumed by her environmental activism than before. JJ was the most staggering change of all. He’d grown into his looks, matured around the face. Any puppy fat that you remembered from childhood had vanished. Lithe and lively, he was an American heartthrob, through and through.

As you do your skincare, you glance out the window. You can make out JJ, sat with his back to you. His arms are flailing around as he tells a story. You can’t make out the details through the window but the looks on everyone’s faces tells you it’s pretty damn entertaining. He was always the joker, humour hiding whatever was happening underneath like he was arming himself with a grin. The unexplained bruises on his face and the painful batterings on his body were never explained whenever he’d stay at Big John’s, when you were younger.

The moment he shifts in his seat, you dart away from the window, scared to get caught, and finish getting ready for bed.

A bad dream rouses you awake. It was about Colorado. The warped memories keep you from falling back asleep, no matter how hard you try. Sighing, you stare at the ceiling. The room is bathed in moonlight, cosy in the wooden interior, and you contemplate sitting outside for a bit. The same cardigan from earlier gets pulled on over your vest top and you slip into some crocs.

You head for the front door, creeping past John B’s room, and step onto the porch. There’s a warm, humid air in the night. The crickets and owls harmonise with the faint buzz of mosquitos who surround the porch light. That’s when you realise that it’s already on, and you’re not alone. JJ’s on the porch, laid out on the sofa. He’s smoking a joint. The smell of weed merges into that of the dying embers from the abandoned, extinguished bonfire. You rap gently on the wall as you approach, hoping not to startle him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at the sound.

“Hey.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you say. “I thought everyone went home.”

“They did. I’m crashing here tonight. My dad’s…”

He falters, glances up at you, and shakes his head.

“Don’t need to bore you with it.”

“You’re not boring,” you hear yourself tell him.

Smiling, JJ offers the joint to you. You take it, sitting down in the red armchair at the foot of the sofa. The weed consumes your senses when you take a drag, hitting the back of your throat and dulling your thoughts.

“Haven’t smoked in ages,” you say.

“Big smoking community out in Colorado?” JJ asks.

You laugh. “Not where I live, no.”

He takes the joint back when you lean over to him. Tilts his head back as he takes another hit. He’s in the same clothes as earlier, hasn’t even taken off his boots; his hair is tousled like he tried to sleep but couldn’t. You’re caught in the act of staring at him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a joke. Instead, he holds your gaze. It’s almost like a silent challenge: who’ll break first?

“Can I say something kinda inappropriate?” he asks.

“I feel like you have to, now.”

JJ grins at that, amused. “You’re way cuter than I remember you.”

“Oh? You mean sweaty thirteen-year-old, chalk-highlight-pink-hair wasn’t cute?” you joke.

Shaking his head, he adds, “No. Well, yeah, but not in the way you are now.”

Your stomach tightens and heart constricts, and you wish you had the joint to have something to distract yourself with. You hope you sound calm and collected when you say, “thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, you’re too kind,” JJ jokes. He takes another long, deep drag. “Is it nice? Being back in Kildare?”

You glance off to the marsh. You forgot to check the time when you got up but judging from the endless navy blue of the sky, it’s still late.

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

You look back to him. “It’s better than Colorado.”

“So, you’re not missing home then?”

The blunt is passed back to you. Taking a drag, you ponder his question. “I don’t think I know where home is right now. I don’t think it’s Colorado, but I don’t know if it’s here either. Maybe I don’t have one.”

JJ doesn’t say anything and you remember yourself. Laughing self-deprecatingly, you shake your head.

“Sorry, think this joint’s going to my head. That was dramatic.”

“No, no, I get ya,” JJ assures. “I know what you mean.”

“You don’t like Kildare?” you ask him.

His expression darkens like a shadow has cast over him. “It depends.”

“Hm,” you say. Nothing more is said on the matter. You get the sense that JJ was vague on purpose.

Pulling your legs into your seat, you glance around at the clutter on the porch. A surfboard is lent against the nett lining of the porch; a rusting duck ornament balances on one of the beams. What looks to be a broken radio sits beside a half-full bottle of rum on a small table by the couch.

“I think it’s good for John B, having you back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” JJ smiles. “He sorta spun out when his dad disappeared. You’re kinda the only family he has left.”

“You’re his family too. Been around longer than I have,” you tell him.

JJ’s smile softens. He glances away from you, fiddling with the paper of the joint, almost as if he’s flustered. “Thanks.”

“So,” you say, “you got some poor girl on this island falling after you?”

“Rude of you to assume there’s only one,” JJ grins wickedly.

You roll your eyes.

“What about you? Some West Coast jock waiting for you back in the home state?”

The sarcastic ‘har har’ that he gets has JJ frowning, bemused.

“Definitely no guy, and definitely no jock.”

“Now that I find hard to believe,” JJ says.

Before you can ask what he means by that, or spiral out by thinking too much about it, JJ’s getting to his feet. He puts the blunt out on the window ledge, ditching the empty butt in a filthy dish. Stretching his arms over his head, sighing, you watch as his t-shirt rides up. The tensing of his abdominal muscles is like torture. God, to run your hands up his chest, over his shoulders, tangle them in the salt-soaked strands of his hair…

“Right, night Little Routledge,” JJ says.

You blink away from his chest and meet his gaze. There’s a strange expression on his face, one you don’t recognise, and you want to scrutinise it and find out what it means. But it’s gone in a flash, as is he as he heads back into the house. You watch through the window as his silhouette drops onto the pull-out sofa.

It takes a minute to regain your composure.

You can’t think of JJ like that. He certainly doesn’t think of you like that, and that childhood crush has long been put to bed. Shaking it awake is the last thing you need right now. Besides, he’s John B’s best friend. Your brother’s best friend. The same brother who’s taken you back into his house, offered you a room, free of charge, without complaint or question. And it seems like John B needs as many people around him as possible right now. But it’s hard to maintain that line of thought, when as you lie back down in your bed, desperate to get some sleep, you can vividly picture the slit of JJ’s chest that you were privy to just moments ago when you close your eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You follow Tom through the restaurant. He’s the supervisor, eighteen and a fresh high school graduate. It’s hard to keep up with him as he points things out: waiter’s station; kitchen; storeroom…You’d forgotten how overwhelming job orientations can be.

“And this,” he pushes a door open, “is the staff room.”

You glance in and take in the messy pile of shoes, the overflowing trash can, and the three coat pegs overwhelmed with bags and hoodies.

“Love what you’ve done with the space.”

Tom laughs. He closes the door and leans against the doorframe. Broad shouldered, he stands taller than you by a couple inches.

“So, what made you want to work here?”

“I’m really interested in not being broke,” you reply, making him laugh.

“You new to the island? Feel like I haven’t seen you around?”

“This island that small?”

“Or you’re just that unforgettable,” he smoothly returns.

Your face fires up. Laughing nervously, you shift your stance. “I just moved in with my half-brother for the summer. Need something to keep me busy for a few months.”

“Ah, sweet. Anyone I’d know?”

“Dunno,” you say. He starts back into the main restaurant building. They haven’t opened yet. It’s void of life. “John B Routledge?”

“Oh shit, yeah. JB,” he says, flashing you a grin.

He’s charming in a disarming way. The kind of face that a modelling agency would swipe up because of his easy marketability.

When the two of you approach the bar, there’s a girl stood polishing wine glasses. She looks to be about your age, maybe a couple of years older. Her smile is sweet and welcoming like warm hot chocolate on a winter’s night.

“Hey, Lizzy. This is the new starter,” Tom introduces.

“I’m guessing I got the job then?” you ask him. He nods. With that, you offer a hand to Lizzy.

“Nice to meet ya,” she says, shaking it. “Could do with more girls around here.”

“Happy to help,” you reply.

“So, you think you can cover a shift tomorrow night? I figured cause you’ve waitressed before it shouldn’t take too long for you to learn the ropes here,” Tom says.

You nod. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says.

You bid farewell to himself and Lizzy, seeing yourself out the front door. The restaurant is in the heart of the cut, surrounded by other small businesses and hipster start-ups. You begin the journey home, plugging in your headphones and submerging yourself in Reggae music. Children play in the local park and preteens chatter as they speed past you on their bikes. There’s a warm breeze that brushes past you; it smells of sea water and fried fish. You’re passing the harbour. Eyes land on Heyward’s store, the logo just as you remember it from all those years ago. It’s surreal being back.

When your phone buzzes, you pause your sightseeing to check it. It might be John B asking after the interview. Your throat closes up when you see your mom’s contact pop up. A text. ‘Call me back.’

Just like that, you’re dragged out of Kildare and are back in Colorado.

It’s impossible to ignore the text, but you do your best either way. You don’t even remember half the journey to the Chateau as you walk through the door. JJ is home. He’s sat at the messy dining table, eating a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. Tugging out your earbuds, you give a small wave hello.

“How’d the interview go? That was today, right?”

“Smashed it. Got the job,” you say.

“Oh, sweet. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

You ditch your bag by the door along with your phone. Taking the seat opposite him, you sit cross-legged on the wooden chair. The sketchbook you’d abandoned earlier lays dormant. Opening it up, you flick to your latest piece of the marsh. It’s coming together rather well. You’d decided to add the H.M.S Pogue, sat harboured on the grass. JJ peers over his bowl to the painting.

“Holy shit. That’s sick,” he says through his mouthful of Captain Crunch.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’m pretty happy with how it’s come out, considering how old these paints are.”

JJ watches as you crack open the aforementioned watercolours. The smell of artificial paint teases the air. Dampening a thin brush in the mason jar of water, you dip into the blue.

“They bad quality or something?”

“A little. They best ones are Winsor and Newton, but I can’t justify spending over twenty bucks on paints.”

“Why not? You’ve clearly got a gift,” JJ says.

You hate how casual he is when he says things like that to you. Like it doesn’t knock the breath out of you like a sucker punch to the chest.

“S’just practice,” you mumble.

You can feel his gaze as you paint. Resting your chin in your hand, you work at the water under the jetty, trying to perfect the shading. You want to feel as though you can walk into the painting; like you could drown in the crystal clean waves.

Painting had become an escape when you were in Colorado. Whatever you could remember of Kildare, you’d paint. When that well ran dry, you began to paint places you wished you could go. Anywhere but the dilapidating family home you’d found yourself in. Secret gardens made of twisting ivy and crumbling, ornate statues hidden amongst orchids and rose bushes. Cosmic planes with make-believe ice cream stations snuck onto Mars and Venus; whales which bathed in the stars and caught a tan in moonbeams. Underwater societies full of sea kelp and multicoloured coral reefs, with octopi hiding amongst crabs and shellfish.

You glance up to find JJ transfixed on the painting. There’s a crease between his brows as if he’s the one concentrating. It makes you laugh, quiet and under breath, and he looks up. Holds your stare.

“That’s amazing, that you can just do that,” JJ says, remarking to your work.

You swallow the sickly rush that his words give you. His tongue dampens his lower lip, tantalisingly slow. You feel it hit somewhere deep inside of you. Something in the air shifts.

Then, so quiet neither of you can be sure he really said it, he utters, “you’re amazing.”

“Yo!”

The door swings open with your brother’s arrival. Your head spins over your shoulder to the front door. John B stands holding a bag of takeout burgers in the air beside his head.

“Y’all hungry?”

“Hell yeah,” JJ says.

When you look to him, it feels as if you could have imagined the whole interaction had just moments ago. JJ’s sat in his seat as he was before, unfazed.

He abandons his cereal and follows John B into the kitchen like a starving dog, begging for food. You place your paintbrush back into the water and join them. John B unpacks the burgers and fries onto half-clean plates. You watch JJ toss a fry into the air and catch it, whooping in celebration. A plate is handed back to you, over John B’s shoulder.

“Beef burger with cheese, no pickles.”

“Thank you,” you sing-song, taking the plate off him.

JJ turns around and looks at you with faux disgust. “No pickles?”

You shake your head, heading back to the table. JJ and John B join you with their own quick dinners, and the three of you eat. You tell John B about the summer job you secured, and he tells you and JJ about Sarah Cameron and her new boy-toy Topper. JJ says he’s “biceps without a brain” when you ask which one Topper is.

“That can’t be his real name,” you snort.

“Oh, it is,” John B replies.

“His name is almost as dumb as he is,” JJ sniggers.

There’s the sound of chewing and swallowing.

“Two official weeks into summer,” John B randomly announces.

You quirk a brow. “Two weeks since I came back to Kildare.”

JJ holds his cup of soda up in a toast. John B wipes his mouth and raises his own, as do you. The three of you clink cups, smiling at the stupidity. As you bring your cup to your lips to drink, you find your eyes meeting JJ’s across the table. He holds your gaze as he sips, swallows and licks his lips of the sugar. You feel it hit somewhere deep, deep inside of you. JJ looks back to John B and starts recounting his tales of the day fishing, leaving you stumped.

What the hell was that?

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As your days in Kildare stretch on, your imagination becomes your most loved and loathed place all at once.

The Pogues had taken you under their wing without a second thought. It felt as if it wasn’t just because you were John B’s younger sister. Kiara would spend hours talking to you about music and star signs. Pope would discuss books and artists that he’d read about, falling into a huge debate about whether Andy Warhol is as legendary as everyone makes him out to be (the answer is, of course, yes). You and John B connected as brother and sister, filling that hole of ‘family’ that had been taken from both of you within the past year. Movie nights sharing popcorn and critiquing corny horror films, and mornings spent tending to the yard and fishing at the jetty: you felt yourself coming back bit by bit, in the company of the brunette.

But spending time with the Pogues came with spending more time with JJ. That little childhood crush that you’d claimed had succumb a long, undisturbed slumber…Oh, she had been awoken. Him staying over more and more on the pull-out when him and his dad ‘got into a thing’ meant the throw pillows smelt like his cologne and soap. He’d offer you his sweatshirt when sat around the bonfire on evenings drinking, and the warm distinct smell of him would consume you, drown you in the pheromones, affecting you like some pathetic animal in heat. Days spent surfing and sunbathing at the break gave you space to shamelessly ogle his bare chest, splattered in sea water, scorched and tanned with sunlight. The ripple of his lats when wearing his useless muscle tees as he waxed his board in the surf shack. His jawline strong and steely when annoyed or focused, with faint blonde stubble a week after shaving. But you swear he knew how it affected you. Swear he knew it drove you crazy whenever he’d fleetingly touch your back, brushing past you in the kitchen to grab a drink, or adjust your grip when helping him fix up his bike. When sharing a blunt on the porch (as you often did when sleep couldn’t come), he’d take his time passing it to you, fingers brushing. Innocent, incidental touches that felt calculated and planned. The way his eyes would gaze into yours, like he could read your thoughts and decipher your wants. A vague, barely-there smirk to his lips, constantly tortured by his tongue and teeth…

God, your whole body feels as if it has been on fire for the past week.

You blame your overactive thoughts of JJ on your boredom. Working at the restaurant hadn’t been sufficient distraction from the mess that is your life right now. Even now, as you stand before the till, typing through an order for the kitchen and bar, you feel your mind wandering. To thoughts of the Chateau, and to a certain blonde-haired guy sprawled on the pull-out sofa, shirtless, back on proud display…

“You gonna be much longer?”

“No, I shouldn’t be,” you say to Tom.

You hope your embarrassment doesn’t read on your face. It’s not as if he could hear your thoughts, so you’re not sure why you feel caught in the act. You finish selecting the sides for table 16 and press ‘store table’. Stepping to the side to grab some side plates, Tom takes over the till.

He’s nice. Makes you laugh a lot at work, as you slander rude tables and gush over those that tip an extra twenty.

After depositing the side plates at the table, you head to the bar to run the drinks you put through. Lizzy is mixing the cocktail you ordered. She pours rum into a shaker and then passionfruit puree.

“Can I ask you something?” you say to her.

She glances over. The two of you had gotten closer at work. You were hoping to hang out with her one time down at the beach, or maybe grab lunch after a morning shift. She runs a hand over her buzzcut hair style and nods.

“Do you think there’s such a thing as bad thoughts?”

“Bit deep to be asking that at eight o’clock at night, don’t you think?” she smirks.

You roll your eyes. As she goes on making the cocktail, you elaborate. “I have this dumbass crush on this guy which I know I shouldn’t have…I just feel bad for thinking about him so much.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” she snorts.

There’s the loud rattle of ice against stainless steel as Lizzy shakes the cocktail. Then, as she strains it into a martini glass, she looks up at you once more.    

“Who’s this guy? Do I know him?”

“Maybe.”

Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Is it Tom?”

And, no, it isn’t Tom, but maybe saying it is means she won’t keep digging. You’d rather keep your embarrassing years-long infatuation with your brother’s best friend close to the chest. So, you do your best to look meek as you nod.

“Holy shit! Well, if it makes you feel better, he’s totally into you,” Lizzy tells you.

“He is?”

“Hell yeah. Guy practically ogles you across the room,” she says.

You glance over to Tom. He’s stood before a table, talking away, scribbling down their order on a notepad. At the feeling of being watched, he looks up and meets your gaze. You flash him a small smile and he mirrors it quickly before returning his focus to the task at hand.

“So, do you?”

“Think there’s such a thing as bad thoughts?” Lizzy checks. You nod. She ponders the question whilst garnishing the cocktail. “No. No, I think only actions talk. I mean, I think bad things all the time about customers who are dicks. I could put glass in their drinks: that’d show them sort of thing. But I don’t actually put glass in their drinks, so I’m off the hook. Nobody’s the wiser.”

It’s a somewhat extreme example but it gets the point across. You take the tray and nod.

“I mean, maybe fantasising about it might be cathartic. Get it out your system, you know?” Her sly wink speaks volumes as to what these ‘fantasies’ are about. You roll your eyes.

“Thank you for your advice, Lizz. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Anytime sunshine.”

With that, you walk over table 16 and deliver their drinks. The rest of the shift passes by rather quickly. You end up making a bet with Tom that you can sell more pints of larger than him and come up victorious, leaving work with an extra ten dollars in your pockets.

The streets are painted sunset purple, orange and pink. You spot John B’s campervan, known as The Twinkie, in the parking lot; he’d promised to pick you up after work tonight. But as you walk up to the passenger side, you realise it’s JJ behind the wheel. You’re not sure if the feeling of your organs shrinking is a good thing or a bad thing.

“Where’s John B?” you ask, climbing in beside him.

“Nice way to say, ‘hi JJ, it’s so good to see you!’”

“Okay, hi JJ,” you say, rolling your eyes. He starts the engine. “Now, where’s my brother?”

“He had to go do something for Cameron.”

“At ten at night?”

“Dude, I just work here, a’right? I do as he says so he lets me stay on his sofa,” JJ says. You laugh.

The radio kicks on and ‘Downtown Lights’ starts to play. You look out the window as he drives, watching the houses fade into overgrow and trees.

“Hey, you hungry?”

“Starved.”

“We can swing by a Wendy’s on the way home, if you wanna,” JJ says.

You smile as you look over to him, nodding. With that, he takes the next left and the two of you make your way in comfortable silence to the drive through. At the worker’s request, JJ recounts his order: two hamburgers, both with cheese, one without pickles. Oh and a large Pepsi.

As he pulls forward to pay, you say, “you remembered I don’t like pickles?”

He glances over to you like you’re stupid for even asking. “Course.”

Food secured, Pepsi in the cupholder for you both to share, you start the journey to the Chateau.

“Feed me a fry?”

You laugh and oblige. It’s the least you can do, considering he bought you takeout, after all. You turf one out the brown paper bag and hold up to his lips. His breath fans against your fingers as he takes it. Chews and swallows. You managed to tear your eyes away. That man could yawn and you’d be mesmerised, you swear. It’s pathetic.

“Thanks.”

“Course.”

The ride back is over way too soon. You take what’s left of your food and your bag, opening the door. “You staying over tonight?”

JJ contemplates a moment before shaking his head. He studies his hands as they run up and over the steering wheel when he says, “no. No, I gotta go home sometime.”

“Right,” you quietly say. The last fight him and his dad got in was ugly. He came over, shaking with anger, a purple bruise forming under his eye. It scared the shit out of you to let him go back there alone. “Well, thanks for the food.”

JJ looks up from the steering wheel and takes you in. His lips move, like he wants to say something, but he seems to abandon the thought. You take it as your cue to leave.

“See you soon.”

“Yeah. See you soon, Little Routledge.”

You hate that nickname. The resentment is thick to swallow as you say goodnight, stepping out the van.

John B isn’t home when you walk into the Chateau. The lights are off, dirty dishes piled up in the sink. The sofa bed is unmade from the last time JJ slept on it. You contemplate crashing on it for the night, just so you can feel as if you’re near to him, but you know that’s insane. If John B were to find you there, he’d only be concerned that something was wrong with your own room, either way. So you trundle back to your bedroom and strip out of your uniform. Makeup rinsed off and teeth brushed, you crawl into bed and drift off easily.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

His lips are hot and wet on your skin, kissing down your stomach. Your breathing’s laboured like you’re fighting an adrenaline rush. He seems to notice, laughing darkly against your tummy.

“So wound up already and I’ve barely touched you,” JJ croons in his southern drawl.

Your eyes slip shut, fighting back a whimper as his fingers dip teasingly into the waistband of your panties. A moan finally lets slip at the sensation of his lips pressing against your crotch, over the cotton.

“You want it?”

“Please,” you whisper.

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

“Yes, JJ, please.”

It’s embarrassing to beg but you don’t have much left in your mind other than thoughts of him to even care.

Fingers knotting into his hair, you try and coax him lower still. And he obliges. Drags your panties down your legs like time is a luxury. You wonder if he likes teasing you; if it brings him pleasure like the feeling of his hands on your body does for you. He leans back on his haunches and runs his palms up and down your thighs, staring at you exposed pussy. His shark tooth necklace sits against his toned chest and you’re jealous of how close it gets to be to him.

“Fuck,” JJ groans as you open your legs.

He leans back down and nuzzles your inner thigh, pressing a sharp kiss with his teeth, sucking in the skin and relishing your pleasured yelp. It feels as if he’s marking you as he leaves the hickey: mine.

“Been dreaming ‘bout this.”

Before you can let out another pathetic plea, JJ situates himself between your legs and goes down on you. Eats you out like a man who’s been lost at sea, like a man starved. Sighs at the taste of you on his tongue, kissing at your thighs as if to catch his breath, dragging you closer and closer to the edge. The damp of his tongue laps at your clit and your legs lock around him in a vice. He’s indefatigable, insatiable and…it’s too much.

“I can’t,” you whine hopelessly. Your fingers grasp at the sheets, eyes clenched shut.

“Come on,” JJ preens. “Wanna see you come.”

He leans close to your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth, and slips a finger into your seeping hole. Your orgasm comes like waves crashing over splintered rocks; breathing jagged and vision blurring behind eyelids. Somewhere in the euphoric haze you cry out his name. Flashes of colour blending into a mercurial high as he works you through your ecstasy, unrelenting.

You gasp awake.

Had you been sleeping?

Your forehead is damp with sweat, throat parched and chest heaving. Anyone would have thought you’d have just sprinted three miles. When you sit up in bed, you register the pulsing between your legs and the telltale stickiness of your thighs.

Shit. Good thing there’s no such thing as bad thoughts.

Wiping at your face, your skin feels red hot. You venture to the bathroom and drink water from the faucet. Making eye contact with yourself is too hard right now, considering you just had the most incredible wet dream about your brother’s best friend. Now that the high is passing, you’re overcome with shame and guilt. You’re delusional. Maybe you should submit yourself to be sectioned. Would be a good way to kill some of these summer weeks…

Heading back to bed feels like returning to the scene of a crime. Instead, you head out onto the porch, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. John B’s a deep sleeper, you’ve come to learn. You’ve never heard him get up in the night, in all your moments of insomnia. There’s no risk of crossing paths with him out here.

Stepping out onto the paint-peeled floorboards, you notice he forgot to turn off the porch light when he came home. Great, I guess I know where my wage is going. But as you head to your favourite red armchair, ready to gaze out at the marsh and watch the waterside plants dance in the breeze, you freeze.

JJ’s on the sofa. And he’s awake. You can tell just from where you’re stood.

Before you can flee back to your room, the floorboard creaks. JJ jolts up and looks around, eyes landing on you. You swallow. The moment you lay eyes on him, part of your dream comes screaming back to you. The way your voice cracked as you cried out his name, tumbling over the edge. You quickly shun away the thoughts, slamming them closed in a box, before your body can lose itself to the fantasy once more. Please God tell me that I didn’t actually scream his name.

“Hi,” you dumbly say.

“Hey.”

“I thought you were staying at your place tonight,” you say.

JJ shrugs. “Change of plans, I guess.”

“Oh.”

He looks back ahead at the armchair, back to you, and you can’t help but pull a face akin to holy shit what the fuck do I do? When he holds up a joint, you decide to stay. Panties are just the same as a bikini anyway, and he’s seen you in those. You make sure to wear your cutest ones when he’s surfing with you. The ones that are tight in all the right places and hug your figure in a way that you wished he would. Oh my God, shut up. You wordlessly take the joint as you quickly step past him, planting yourself in the armchair. You pull your legs up and sit atop of them, taking a long drag to try and calm your racing mind and heart. Inspecting the floor seems a good thing to do, suddenly. The divots in the wood from worms and the strips of paint. Looking up, you find JJ’s eyes trained on your legs. His gaze diverts when you lean forward, offering him the blunt again. As he lifts himself to take it, you see him wince, and now in the light of the porch, fully taking him in you, you can make out the bloody cut beside his eye.

“Jesus Christ, JayJ.”

“It’s fine,” he reflexively says. He takes another hit. “Just need some self-medication.”

“Bullshit. You need to clean that thing ‘fore it gets infected.”

“Be my guest,” JJ scoffs.

With that, you get to your feet and head back into the house. The first aid kit is under the bathroom sink. It’s probably the least dusty thing in the whole room. Returning to him, you forget all about the reason that you got up in the first place and shove it to the back of your mind. This was more important than worrying about some dumb dream. Shoving his legs off the couch, you force him to make space for you. You place the first aid kit on your lap and open it. JJ keeps smoking. The smell of weed clouds your senses. Picking out a disinfectant wipe, you turn to him.

“This’ll sting,” you say, opening the packet.

“That’s what she said.”

You frown. “What kind of kinky ass sex are you having?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he grins.

For a moment dread drops down your body, chilling your spine. Did he hear you? No, no he couldn’t have. You probably didn’t make a noise. He’s just being his usual, salacious self.

You take his jawline in hold gently between your fingers. The bone is hard beneath the soft of his skin; fine stubble scratches your fingertips. Leaning up, you try not to get distracted in his eyes as you dab at the cut. You apologise as he hisses. It doesn’t look as intimidating when clean of blood, which is more than a relief. You dip back into the first aid kit and offer up two band aids. One is plain nude and the other Hello Kitty.

“Take your pick.”

He rolls his eyes with a small smile and grabs the Hello Kitty one, holding it out to you. You shift onto your knees, bending over him to plant it over his cut. You notice a bruise forming on his cheek bone on the other side, and a cut lip. You should have insisted he stayed over when he dropped you off. He looks up, as if he can hear your thoughts, and meets your gaze. You can’t seem to find it in yourself to move away.

“It’s not your fault,” he quietly says.

You swallow. It’s scary how easy he can read you. Makes you worry what other thoughts he can tell from your face. “Wished you just stayed here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hate the thought of you going back to that house.”

“That’s sweet,” he smiles. “But if I didn’t go, I wouldn’t have you here taking care of me.”

“Oh, was it all part of your masterplan?” you joke, finding your smile again. His seems to grow at the sight.

“Something like that.”

When his lips press to yours, you’re taken aback. It feels like fire, searing hot, and you flinch like you’ve been burnt. You gape at him, wide eyed, and it seems to register what he’s just done. You both move to put as much space between you as possible, as if trying to keep the blaze from spreading.

“Shit, I—”

“I should go back to bed,” you hurry out.

JJ nods. “Yeah, yeah. Course.”

In your scramble to get back to your feet and back in your room, the first aid kit falls to the floor, the contents spilling out. You cuss and drop to your knees, rushing to retrieve all the clutter. JJ joins you, passing you gloves and bandages. You find some nerve to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says. The sincerity in his voice…It’s painful.

“It’s okay. I don’t…It isn’t…”

You sigh. Your speech is just as messed as your mind. Closing your eyes, gathering your words, you take a deep breath. Looking back to JJ, you shake your head.

“We can’t.”

“I know,” he replies, almost sadly. Nods once more. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…high. And tired.”

“Right. Course.”

And whilst his excuses should sting, they don’t, because you don’t believe them. JJ smokes enough weed to not be affected all that much by half a joint. But you don’t argue. Instead, you close the box and go to head inside. You stop in the doorway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say.

You spare him one last glance. He’s on the floor, head hung and back to you, and you consider staying. But you don’t. You go straight to bed, acting as if a fresh start tomorrow will reset the entire thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the morning, JJ’s gone. John B doesn’t seem to have even realised he’d stayed over. You find your older brother in the kitchen, washing up the dirty dishes. Swiping up a towel, you come to help.

“Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “You?”

“Like a rock,” he grins. “You still up for that keggar tonight, at the boneyard?”

“Oh shit, that’s tonight?”

“Yeah. All the others are going,” John B says.

“Yeah, I’ll go. I think I’m catching a ride with Lizzy from work.”

“Alright. Just stay safe.”

“I will,” you drawl. He smiles at you before turning back to the washing up. “Hey, John B?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For letting me stay here.”

“Yeah, course,” he says. He pauses his handy work, turning his attention to you. “You’ve always got a bed to crash on here, even if child services are up my ass.”

“I appreciate it. I really needed to get out of Colorado.”

The seven missed calls from your mom slip into your mind. Her texts go unanswered, but she knows you read them. You don’t want her to think you’re in danger. Talking to her is just too much right now.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I needed you back too,” he says. “Things have been kinda messy since my dad…disappeared. I don’t know what I’d do if I was on my own.”

“You’re never gonna be on your own, though,” you smile. “The Pogues would do anything for you. It’s actually kinda scary.”

John B laughs at that. “Yeah, yeah, they’re, uh, not the smartest.”

“Apart from Pope,” you point out. He nods, smiling as he looks back to the soapy water.

“Yeah, apart from Pope.”

“JJ cares about you a lot,” you feel the need to add. His voice last night, apology ready, after your kiss, echoes in your mind.

“I know. I feel like you two are the best things in my life right now,” John B admits. The guilt multiples by tenfold with that. You fix your face when he looks to you. “So, thanks.”

“No worries, big bro,” you reply, nudging his shoulder with yours.

He laughs. “Thanks, little sis.”

With that, you both continue cleaning the pots. The shame from last night gets shoved down into the deepest, darkest pit of your stomach, and you try to go about your day without sparing another thought to JJ.

On the way to the keggar, Lizzy grills you about your ‘crush’ on Tom. “He’s gonna be there tonight, I think.”

“Oh, really?” you say. You know you don’t sound enthused. It’s too much effort to pretend.

“Everything good?” she frowns, glancing away from the road.

You nod and plaster on a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just tired, I think.”

“Couple drinks in you and you’ll be wide awake, I promise,” she assures.

Nodding, you shift in your seat and look out the window. Your skirt rides up in the processes. It’s a little short but it’s so ridiculously hot tonight, you can’t seem to care. A crotchet style crop-top dresses down the outfit. You don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard for a beachside keggar. As you pull up closer to the boneyard, cars line the roads. Lizzy finds a spot and parks. You grab the crate of Budlight and her the box of White Claw, and you hop out the car towards the beach. Her stories about work and school have brightened your mood.

She’s tall and remarkably cool in a way that you never will be. She has stick and poke tattoos on her knees and elbows, and nine piercings on one ear. Her nose ring and snake bite piercings are far from intimidating on her cherub like features. The buzzcut has been dyed neon blue, standing bright against her dark skin. As you pass groups of teens, she shouts hello to those she recognises and shares the odd bro-hug.

You add your drinks to the pile of booze before grabbing a can, cracking it open. A quick scan of the scene tells you that the Pogues are still pre-drinking at the Chateau. You’d managed to dodge JJ so far.

“This is a pretty decent turn out,” Lizzy tells you, swigging from her can.

“Know a lot of people here?”

“Sure,” she says. She points to a gaggle of polo-shirt wearing pretty boys who look like they could snap you with one finger. “Those are the gym rat kooks. That tall blonde Topper is with the princess of Figure Eight, Sarah Cameron.”

JJ was right: biceps without a brain. You watch as he shotguns a drink and cracks the can on his forehead. Sarah Cameron, blonde hair straight flowing down her back, does not look impressed.

“And her brother Rafe. That guy’s all kinds of whacked out,” Lizzy mutters. You follow her finger to spot a tall, short haired guy. He looks unapproachable, even from far away.

“Yo Lizzy!”

You both turn to find a crowd of girls and guys. One of them is waving at Lizzy and she waves back.

“Come on, I know these guys. They’re cool,” she tells you, taking your hand and guiding you over.

You’re introduced to everyone and soon enough are roped into beer pong and shots. It’s fun though. Everyone’s having a laugh, cheering each other on. You hear about some good spots to grab food and learn Michael, Lizzy’s closest friend, can drink you under the table. A few hours in and there’s a comfortable buzz to your bones. You haven’t thought about the Pogues, or JJ, or the fleeting kiss all night. As you laugh along to one of Michael’s soccer stories, someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around to come face to face with Tom.

“Hey,” you smile, squiffy.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Yeah, I came with Lizzy.”

“Hey, Tom,” she smiles before sending you a more than suggestive look. Oh, shit. The lie. “Hey, why don’t you go get my girl a top up?”

Before you can contest, she’s taking your half full can out of your hand and coaxing you away with an assuring smile. Tom takes it in stride and walks with you to the coolers. He grabs two cans of beer, passing one to you, and you cheers him.

“How you finding Kildare?”

“Good.”

“Yeah? You been hanging with John B’s crowd, right?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” you smile, nodding. He makes a face before taking a drink. You frown. “What?”

“Nah, nothing. They’re just kinda…well, I mean, some people think they’re bad news.”

“Some people, huh?” you say cautiously.

“Just reputations and all that. Like that JJ guy. He’s got slippery fingers, if you know what I mean,” Tom says, wiggling his own in demonstration.

Suddenly this conversation is very unappealing. You glance off to Lizzy and the others. “I should probably get back to them. Thanks for the drink, though.”

“No, hey, no,” Tom says. He grabs you by the wrist. “Come on, I was being a dick. I’ve had one too many. Let’s just hang, alright? I really wanna get to know you.”

You look between him and Lizzy and sigh. Taking a swig, you shrug. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tick you off.”

“I like the Pogues. They’re a good group,” you feel the need to defend.

“No, yeah, they are!” Tom agrees. You can smell the stench of liquor on his breath. “I just don’t want you to get corrupted by them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just, you’re new here—”

“And so I’m clueless on how to judge people?” you finish sardonically.

Tom rolls his eyes and it makes your anger tick. “Come on, you don’t gotta be a bitch about this.”

“What did you just call me? You know what? Forget it,” you scoff, snatching your arm away from his hold. “Have fun drinking on your own.”

But you don’t get very far before he’s grabbing at you again. “Calm down, would you? Just gimme—”

“Let go!” you demand.

His grip only tightens. The strong front you’re putting on begins to crumble under the panic of this guy is way bigger than me.

“Just quit bitching and we can talk,” he says harshly.

“I don’t want to talk. Now please let go of me,” you firmly return.

He doesn’t let go. Keeps chattering away, insisting that you have to hear him out.

“Let go, Tom!”

“Everything good here?”

Your wide eyes look away from Tom and land on JJ, and your whole body relaxes. He’s looking at you and the panic must read clear on your face because his demeanour changes in a split second. Jaw tight, he turns to Tom.

“I think you should let go, man.”

“You think I’m gonna listen to you?” Tom scoffs.

JJ takes another step towards him. He towers over Tom by enough to be intimidating. “Think you should listen to her.”

“Oh, I get it,” Tom snarls. He lets go of you and you can feel your skin breathing. You rub at the pink marks, easing the sting. Tom gets into JJ’s face, undeterred from a fight. “You wanna keep John B’s sloppy sister for yourself, huh?”

JJ’s fist flies at Tom’s face, making an ugly, visceral sound as it lands on his left cheek. You gasp. Nearly knocked off balance, Tom stumbles on the sand. The commotion has drawn in somewhat of a crowd. Before you can intervene, Tom’s throwing hands. He aims an upper cut to JJ’s jaw but he’s quick to dodge, landing his own punch instead by Tom’s eyebrow. That one seems to deter him. He trips backwards. The chanting of the crowds egging it on makes you feel sick. You’d just finished patching JJ up last night, and you’ve seen his anger before. It takes control quickly and blinds him to reason. The last thing he needs is to wind up in a cell. So, before he can land another hit, you’re stepping forward and grabbing at his arm, stopping him.

“Come on, let’s just go,” you say pleadingly.

His chest is heaving with anger, breathing short and jaw heavy set and tense. He hesitates, looking between yourself and Tom. He’s still cradling his last hit, trying to regain his composure. Sighing, JJ lets you lead him away. Tom’s heckling is laced with slurs directed at you, and you have to keep a steady grip on JJ to keep him from going back.

“He’s not worth it, JayJ,” you mutter.

“You’re so wrong,” JJ darkly returns, but he doesn’t go back.

Away from the beach, back on the road, you let go. He paces for a moment, trying to calm himself. Tugs off his cap and rakes his fingers through his hair, breathing deep and slow. You don’t speak: just let him go through the motions. Babying him through this isn’t going to help anyone.

Whilst violence isn’t the answer to anything, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grateful for JJ’s help.

Letting him cool off, you take a seat on one of the fallen tree trunks.

“Hey.”

Looking up, JJ walks over. He’s mostly back to himself.

“You okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No. Just freaked me out a bit. He’s not usually like that. He’s just drunk.”

“Like that’s an excuse,” JJ scoffs. He takes the spot next to you, sitting worryingly close.

The culmination of last night and tonight makes your head spin. The effects of the alcohol vanished the moment Tom took a hold of you. Now you just want to forget the whole thing.

“Wanna get out of here?” JJ asks.

You turn your head to face him and smile smally, nodding.

“Come on. I brought my bike.”

His red bike is parked beside the Twinkie. He climbs on first and offers a hand to help you onto the back. Your arms slot around his middle, circling around his taught chest, pressing yourself against him. Face resting on the middle of his back, you try not to inhale the smell of him. It might be too much for tonight. His calloused hands on yours have you shifting your hold, ensuring your tight against him like a backpack.

“Good?”

“Good,” you quietly reply.

He kicks off the stand and starts up the engine. You pull away from the keggar and up the road, zipping down the isolated streets. There’s nobody around at this time. Not a soul in sight. It feels so right, wrapped up against him like this, safe in his presence. Tom was wrong: JJ wasn’t bad news. Sure, he was a klepto, but he was the same guy who learnt how to sew to fix your favourite pair of shorts when you were little. The same guy who stepped up when some dirtbag was harassing you. The same guy who remembered you don’t like pickles on your burgers. Who looked at your paintings as if they were Picasso.

Somewhere along the ride, one of JJ’s hands comes to rest on your own. You don’t ask why and don’t pull away. Just let the reassuring weight of his hand on yours stay there and ground you to him like an anchor. Here, flying through the night, you can pretend like all the other shit doesn’t matter. It’s just you and him.

He starts onto a dirt track, slowing down, and a house emerges. Pastel yellow painted exterior hidden behind porch netting. There’s clutter of engines and fishing gear amongst surfing supplies. He pulls to a stop and kicks on the stand, turning off the engine. It’s quiet now, without its rumble. “Your dad home?” you can’t help but ask, staring at the front door.

JJ shakes his head. “No. He’s out on Friday nights. Kinda the only routine he has.”

You don’t ask where and he doesn’t expand. You step off the bike and watch as he clambers off too. Fixing your skirt, you wait for him to talk. He doesn’t. “I should probably head back,” you say. You’re not entirely sure why you came to his place instead. You’d assumed when you got on the bike that he’d take you back the Chateau.

“I mean, we can share a joint first if you want. Help you calm down and stuff, after that shitshow,” JJ half-chuckles.

There’s something heavy in the humid air. It’s hard to describe, hard to place, but you can feel it like static electricity. You find yourself nodding. He nods too and starts up to the house, hands in his black short pockets. You watch his feet sink into the grass and guide your eyes up his figure. His shoulders are tense, dressed under a thin t-shirt. He ditches his cap on the kitchen counter when you walk through the door. Through the house, past the neglection, and to his bedroom. He flicks on the light and clears his throat as he goes to his desk drawer.

You stand, leaning against his door until it clicks closed, and look around his room. There’s a world map pinned to the wall but no markings on it asides from one: Kildare, North Carolina. Print outs of palm trees and pressed, framed butterflies and leaves seem less innocent when placed between posters of models on the beach. The floor is a mess of dirty clothes and empty beer cans. Several dead vapes litter near the overflowing bin, and cigarette and joint buds scatter the windowsill and beside table. But the smell of JJ hangs strong in the air; it makes you smile to yourself.

“Alright,” JJ sighs. The desk drawer slams closed and he turns around, holding up a fresh joint and lighter. His initials are scratched into the metal: JJ. He sits on the bed and places the blunt between his lips, flicking at his lighter. You watch him take a drag and take it off him when he offers it over.

No words are shared as you pass the bud for several minutes. You both glance around the room, at the floor, at the ceiling, anywhere but each other.

“How’s your face?”

“Huh?” he asks, finally meeting your eyes.

You nod to his cheek. “Your cut from the other night?”

“Oh, right,” he mumbles. He lifts a finger and strokes it absentmindedly. “It’s alright.”

“Good.”

JJ hands you the joint again, you take a drag, you pass it back to him. That same feeling from earlier, when you first climbed off the bike, has only amplified.

“So…”

You brave clearing the distance between you. You take the spot next to him on the bed.

“We gonna talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?” JJ deflects, studying the floor.

“Well, you kissed me,” you eventually reply, taking the joint back. “So, there’s that.”

“I already told you,” he sighs. “I was tired and doped up.”

When you say nothing, he looks up at you. "What? You think I'm lying?"

You take a drag. Shrugging, you honestly reply, “yeah, a little.”

He holds your gaze as if challenging you to back down. You don’t. Beating around the bush won’t help anything here, and its obvious you can’t go back to acting like it didn’t happen. You can’t move past it until you know why he did.

“S’just weird,” JJ mutters, looking away. “What happened last night, with me and you. S’just weird.”

“Yeah, it was weird for me too,” you agree. Swallowing, you take another hit. “But not bad weird, right?”

JJ’s head lifts once more. His eyes flash across your face like he’s searching for some kind of trap. He sucks his teeth in contemplation. “No. Not bad weird.”

Your heart stutters, breathing shaky and unsure. You feel your eyes dart down to his strawberry pink lips, and his to yours. But then he’s shaking his head. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know…” you breathe. You’re transfixed on his lips. Can’t move away, can’t bring yourself too. The blunt in your fingers is burning away, ash dropping to the floor, but you don’t care. All of it, everything but JJ, is white noise.

The moment you flit your eyes up to his, something shifts in him. His jaw ticks as he clenches it. Your brows pull in thought but there’s no time for you to ask.

“Fuck it.”

His lips are on yours within a breadth. He consumes your senses like a drug, dulling down anything else until all your thoughts are on him. He grabs for the blunt in your fingers, haphazardly putting it on the bedside table, and then his hands are sliding up along your sides, up your back, into your hair. One finds purchase on your cheek, and you rest your jaw in his hold like a bird settled in its favourite branch. The way he holds you like you’re something holy is different to how sinful his kiss is. It’s pure passion: raw, animalistic heat from weeks of build-up. And, God, it feels so right. The way his tongue brushes against yours, warm in your mouth, heavy in your head. The nip of his teeth on your lips and the fanning of his breath when he has to break for air. You’ve never been kissed like this before, not by anyone. It’s dizzying.

Until it isn’t, and he’s pulling away. His forehead rests against your own. You’re both panting. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he says.

You slide a hand up his neck, tracing his jawline with your fingers. He practically melts under your touch, eyes slipping shut. “I know,” you whisper distractedly. Your thumb traces his lower lip. It’s swollen from your kisses.

He blinks his eyes open. “I’m serious. He can’t know.”

“He won’t,” you say, going to reconnect your lips.

But JJ stops you. “No, he can’t. He’d…God, he just can’t.”

You want to cry, seeing the moral dilemma weigh on JJ, feeling you share the burden. But the thought of walking away from this, of not feeling every inch of him, of never hearing him fall apart, makes you want to sob.

“Maybe just one time,” you murmur. Your finger traces down his chin, along the centre of his neck. “And we can just get it out of our system.”

“Yeah,” JJ mumbles. “Yeah, one time.”

“Yeah?”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, heavy with lust, and you feel your body ignite. “Touch me, please.”

With that simple mark of consent, JJ’s unchained. He doesn’t hold back when your lips reconnect. Somehow it becomes deeper, rougher, better. It’s such a strange oxymoron, the way he touches you and kisses you. You pull away to remove your crop top, and he takes the moment to strip off his shirt. The two of you are shameless as you take in the other. Reaching out a hand, you run your fingers up his chest in the way that you’ve imagined so many times before. It’s funny how in your head, you’ve already done it. His eyes dip down, watching your hands explore. You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his left pectoral, then his right. Sighing, his chest drops up and down with uneven breathes.

“So pretty,” you say through your kisses.

His fingers tether into your hair. There’s a slight tug that sends ripples of pleasure through your body in ways that it shouldn’t as he pulls you away, guiding your lips back to him. As he crawls atop of you, you inch up the bed, skirt riding up. You settle on our back. JJ’s greedy in his touch. Strokes your skin, explores your body, like it’s his own. And in a way it is because you’d give him anything if he asked. When his fingers slip behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra, you lift yourself onto your elbows. He holds your gaze as he unfastens it, guiding it off your shoulders, helping it off your arms.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

A smile teases at your lips. It takes a certain type of guy to make you blush at the sound of his curses. Your head rocks back, eyes sinking closed, as his lips latch around your nipple. A hand palms at the skin, teasing your breast, exploring your reactions. You sigh out your pleasure, bringing a hand up to mess with his hair. It’s better than you imagined. Tops every fantasy, every wet dream, every sinful thought. And it’s only just begun.

“So fucking sexy,” JJ groans, kissing up your body until he finds your lips.

You don’t want him away from you. He looms over you, encasing you in the safe, consuming feeling of his presence, trapping you in the smell of his cologne and soap that you’ve tried so desperately to avoid. Through the kisses and love bites marked into necks and collarbones, you feel one of his hands ghost the outline of your figure. Traces down so slowly like you might not even notice. Down, down, to your panties. It’s there that he sweeps over your cotton covered mound. You sigh against his lips in anticipation.

“I know you’ve been thinking ‘bout this,” JJ says.

His voice is just as you pictured it: deep and crooning, his Southern accent at forefront. You want to bottle it like brandy and drink it until you black out. His lips work down your neck as he lightly circles your clit over your panties and you can’t stop your moan.

“I heard you, the other night.” Your eyes shoot open. JJ meets your gaze. He’s dying, the desperation clear as day on his face. His eyes themselves could send him straight to hell. There’s the shadow of a smirk.

“Were you thinking of me, whilst you were getting off?”

You go to push him away. The last thing you need is for him to tease you about it and make fun. But he doesn’t let you. Instead, he kisses just below your ear.

“Cause I think about you. Every night since you’ve been back. Can’t jack off to anything else,” he confesses into the crux of your ear. Your only reply is a small, surprised gasp. Your body’s ablaze with his words.

His fingers finally dip below your panties, sliding between your soaking folds. He groans at the sensation and you feel your legs give way. He works at you for a while, toying with you like it’s a side hobby. You’re only half aware of the sounds you make. One of your hands has situated itself on his upper back, nails scratching at the skin. JJ can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. It’s one blasphemy after another, and it drives you deeper and deeper into the abyss. He seems to become impatient. He removes fingers to push your underwear down. You kick them off at the ankles with a small giggle.

The moment his finger sinks into you, you swear you’ve seen heaven. JJ worships you, taking his time to inch you closer and closer to the edge. Another finger, then another. The stretch is heaven. Your back arches off the bed, mouth agape, brain dumb with pleasure. He won’t be quiet. He whispers praises into your ear. Narrates his own fantasies he’s harboured about you. Know you’ve been teasing me with those tiny bikinis. I wish I fucked you on the porch the other night. The moment his thumb swipes over your clit, you know you’re close. And then he’s bending his fingers just slightly, hitting that spot. You abandon all religion: this is the only type of prayer you need.

JJ has the audacity to laugh as you climax. You grasp uselessly at his body, the bedsheets, anything. You use a shaky hand to push his fingers away, overstimulated, and he finally relents. Starts kissing at your neck like a Goddamn vampire.

“That good, huh?”

You can’t really formulate words. You just drag his face to yours, kissing him senseless. When you inevitably part for breath, JJ leans back. He pinches your chin between two fingers, gnawing at his lower lip, and parts your lips for him. Your body pulses at the submissiveness he’s placed you under. Then his used fingers are slipped into your mouth. You close your lips around them, holding his gaze as you suck them clean. The salty distinct taste is unfamiliar but not necessarily unpleasant. He gives a small laugh, like he’s in disbelief.

“Fuck. Why did we wait so long to do this?”

You pull his hand free, taking grip on his shoulders. Pushing him against his bedroom wall, you move to straddle him. His hands fall onto your hips. Somewhere in your heady make-out, you rock yourself back on him. JJ groans; his head knocks back against the wall. He’s rock hard. It must be torture. You shuffle off him to make room to pull his shorts off. They join the mess of clothes on the floor. The tip leaks precum, straining painfully. You go to jack him off but JJ stops you.

“I won’t last,” he admits, half-embarrassed.

You nod, biting back your smile. “You got protection?”

“Top drawer,” he says, nodding to the bedside table.

You lean over and dig about before finding a condom. You come back, tear it open, and gently slide it over him. He lets out a shuddering breath at your touch, eyes clenched shut in concentration. It makes you feel slightly guilty for letting him indulge you for so long, but this will pay it back.

Straddling him once more, you steady yourself with one hand on either shoulder. His find home on your hips once more, and he helps you line up. Then you slowly sink down onto him. The stretch stings despite the earlier efforts. Head hanging forward, mouth falling open in silent moans, eyes clenching shut, you take him in. JJ’s mumbling praises, eyes transfixed on where you connect, spurring you on. Taking me so good. Jus’little more. You rock against him, using whatever energy you have to ride him. He helps guide you, head resting against the wall. You love that he isn’t quiet. Love that you’re on top and can see every ripple of pleasure course through him, reflect on his face. But when his eyes slip shut, you take a hand and guide his face to yours. Pressing your forehead against him, you lean forward and steady yourself with a hand on his chest. The new angle is euphoric. You moan and whine against his lips, eyes staring into his own. It’s the most hideously lewd symphony as the two of you chase your highs. There’s only one thought in your mind. And when JJ comes unannounced, shuddering as he finishes, never looking away from your eyes, only one thought is in your mind.

If it can only happen this once, it has to be perfect...

to be continued (part 2 will be released later this week)

#jj #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fics #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx preference #outer banks preference #jj preference #jj maybank preference #routledge!reader #jj x routledge!reader #brothersbestfriend!jj #brothersbestfriend!jj x reader #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #fem!reader

[hanafubukki]

Concerning the Idia & proposing by pomegranate thing- what if he gives you the seeds slowly as he becomes more and more sure he wants to marry you? The first one he gives you is while he's at NRC. Just a single seed doesn't say anything, what's the harm in feeding you one just as a symbol of appreciation for what you are to him? Cue to a year or two later- he's no longer in school while you're still there (free housing, ya know?), but you're facetiming and doing everything you can to stay in contact/have a long distance relationship. He sends Ortho to visit you along with a gift basket, making sure Ortho has video proof that you ate the single pomegranate seed nestled among the fruit. Another year or two pass and you now live relatively close to each other. He's at your place, snuggled up to you on the couch as you're nodding off. He gets caught up in his feelings for you, of how much he loves you and would never want to live without you. His gaze never leaves you as he presses a seed into your mouth and you sleepily eat it. The fourth one is somewhat forced onto you- he had gotten jealous. You corner him into talking about his feelings, which leads to an emotional outburst. He corners you up against a wall, grimly speaking down to you. A pomegranate seed appears between his fingers and presses it into your lips, but you don't open your mouth. The rage he was displaying started to radiate away as you held strong until all his face showed was sadness. You know what he was feeling- what he was thinking. You were waiting for him to cool off. You take his hand in both of yours. He flinches. You can tell he wants to back up- to not be near you now- but he doesn't move away. Your lips part and mouth opens as you take the seed from him, looking into his eyes as you eat it (you don't know what's up with him and these occasional pomegranate seeds, but you know they mean something special to him). He hands are trembling now as his face starts shifting- he's gonna cry. You let go of his hands to cup his face instead and kiss his tears away as they start rolling down.

He's done for the night and laying in bed, ready to actually get some sleep. And what better way to fall asleep than to daydream of you. What naturally comes to mind first is embarrassing- your wedding. Nobody's watching so he let's himself indulge in his simping pleasures. Until he remembers (more like realizes). The seeds. He- He never thought your relationship would amount to anything- to continue this long. He figured you'd realize he was a loser, that you could do better, and one day leave him forever. That's why he never thought much about giving them to you- they were just symbols of his feelings for you that would never reach a critical number because you'd have left by then. He shivers. He's at 4. Not much more than half, but only 2 to go. What if he hadn't realized it in time? What if he'd given you the last two in another willy-nilly moment and unintentionally bound you to him for life? He knows what his options are. He knows, if he really wants to, he could leave you. Ghost you and never have you enter his life again. Never have another opportunity to feed you another seed. But he also knows- deep down he doesn't want to. Even disregarding the hope his heart cannot help but have, he wants to spend every single moment he can with you- up until the very last second. He's selfish like that. So he decides- he'll just ignore it. There's 2 left- that means he has 1 as a buffer before things get dangerous. It'll be fine. He won't feed you one again.

It happened again. He's at home, sitting on his bed as he reflects on his actions. He'd spent another day with you, as usual, and as the day was winding down... he was so in love with you. The idea popped into his head, "Feed her one. Give her a seed. You have to, you love her so much you can't bear it, so just press one more into her mouth- let it alleviate this positive pressure on your heart. Who cares if this will be the fith? It's the buffer seed. It'll be fine as long as you never give her another. It's fine, just do it!" And he had. And he was happy.

He hated his feelings ever since he'd fed you the fith seed. Day by day his desire to give you the fate-bounding sixth seed grew stronger and stronger. Again and again, he felt the compulsion to feed you another. But he had more willpower this time around, knowing what the consequences of his actions would be. It was difficult, but he'd held fast despite his tug-of-war of feelings- of loving you so much but having to not act on it. His suffering would be eased soon, however. You'd come to visit him but you were acting slightly off. Nervous maybe? No...flustered. You sat on his couch and gestured him to sit next to you, your knees angled so you'd also be facing each other. You were nervous, heat rising to your face, but you wanted to do this. Now you just had to start talking. "You know...Ortho told me." "??? T-Told you...what?" "What the pomegranate seeds mean." His heart dropped to his stomach as you continued talking, "He also let me know how many I've eaten so far. I feel like it's been way more than 5, but maybe that's because it's been over so many years." This is it, he thinks. It's gonna be over. "Have you... do you... would you want...? To... give me the last one?" He can't answer. The moment he does, you'll be gone (his appearance doesn't match his inner turmoil- with his blazing pink hair, blushing face, and dilated eyes). You can do this. You have to take the plunge. You take a breath to steel your nerves and raise your open palm. A single pomegranate seed sits in it. "I-I would like it. If you'd.... give it to me." He hasn't moved a single muscle. Is this rejection? "I-Idia?" You have unconsciously leaned closer to him, gravitating your face closer to his. The room is silent. You can't take anymore. You're about to pull back when you feel something tickle your hand. It's his slim, pale fingers, just barely grazing your palm. Now he's leaning closer as well, and he picks up the seed. He's yet to say anything- he's only staring at you. He lifts the seed. His pointer finger places it on the seam of your lips before his thumb gently holds it there, waiting for your permission to push it in.

(Extra: you move his hand away and pull him in for a kiss- your tongues pushing the seed around. You make sure it's in your mouth when you pull away, and you make sure to exaggerated your swallow so he knows it went down)

[in reference to this ask]

Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonke 🌸🌺💙

*grips you by the shoulders* Anonie, Anonie, the way I just gaped at this?? Wow??

It’s so cute?!! I adored reading it. 💞💞💙💙

@werewolfnamedraven, Raven you need to read this!!

Idia slowly coming into his feelings as time goes on is just -chef kiss-

The symbolism of courting you secretly but in his own way, you don’t know what it means, but you do it for him. 🥹💙

And then!! The sixth seed!! He could end his misery and make you his, but he doesn’t! Doesn’t allow that one last selfishness move his hand. Instead, you find out and make your choice. You ask him to give it to you.

It was your choice.

You chose to be with him ahhhhh 💞💞

And that kiss!!! That kiss!!

The kiss sealed the deal.

You are together now, not even death can seperate you two.

Fake Date Sebek Anonie, you’ve done beautifully!! I thank you in not leaving me in angst this time 💙🥰🌺

#answered #Anonie ask #🌺fake date sebek Anonie🌺 #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #🌷others fics🌷

[steddieas-shegoes]

Have some angst with

"Why can everyone else be forgiven for their past but me? Why do I have to be constantly reminded?"

Steve was tired.

More than just physically.

And it was getting worse the more time he spent with the kids.

As the world slowed, the chaos disappeared, they found some peace. And they all deserved that peace.

But with the peace, came some teasing, some joking.

And then with that came crossing the line.

Steve was used to jokes about his King Steve days, he was used to laughing them off and everyone moving on.

But today, Dustin was being relentless.

And everyone else was joining in, even Robin.

That hurt worse, somehow.

He’d worked hard to be better for years, apologized to anyone he ever hurt with his words or actions, with his ignorance of how bad Tommy may have really been to people like Robin, Eddie, and Nancy.

He reached his limit before they even had dinner.

“Why can everyone else be forgiven for their past but me? Why do I have to be constantly reminded?”

Everyone went quiet.

Steve stood from the couch and left the room, made his way to his bedroom so he could cool off.

He wasn’t going to apologize for asking, but he knew he needed to take a breather before he said something he did regret.

A knock on his bedroom door startled him; He hadn’t expected anyone to come looking for him, at least not this quickly.

He should’ve known Eddie would, though.

“Hey, sweetheart. Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie sat with him in his bed, not talking, not touching, just waiting.

“I’m just tired of everyone still holding it over my head. If they can’t forgive me, then they should just say so and leave, ya know? I don’t think I can handle wondering if they’re always thinking of me like that.”

“Yeah. I get it, love. I’m sorry they keep bringing it up,” Eddie sighed. “Can I be honest about something?”

“Yeah.”

Steve braced himself, ready for Eddie to break his heart and admit he agreed with the kids.

“I think you were never that person and it hurts more because you know that’s the version of you that’s remembered most. Even when you were King Steve, you were just doing it to get by. We all do things just to get by.”

“Why is my thing the worst thing?”

“It’s not. The kids are wrong for what they’ve been saying. I know they’re sorry, but I sent them home. I think they need to think about it a bit more.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I just…wasn’t expecting you to do that. To protect me.”

Eddie kissed his forehead.

“Of course I did. I always will. Even when it’s against super normal little asshole kids instead of super not normal demon bats.”

“Good to know.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon #drabble

[travlersjoy444]

Nice Eyes

2012 Raph x Reader

Takes place in the farmhouse arc

Summary: Raph's pretty confident that no one could ever genuinely like a weird mutant turtle. But when you catch wind of this, you're…not exactly in agreement.

Warnings: Light angst/self hatred. Mostly just fluff tho

Word count: 2.5k

-

  “Smooth move, genius.” Said Raph, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s never gonna happen Donnie! We’re mutants! She’s a human, you’re a giant talking turtle!” he exclaimed, and Donnie glared at the ground. “The sooner you get used to it, the better.” 

  You raised an eyebrow, glancing into the room. “...Uh, guys, what, pray tell, is goin’ on here exactly?”

  Raph rolled his eyes. “Nothing. Dee’s just bugging April again.”

  Donnie crossed his arms, and you winced. “Aw, Dee…You okay?” you said, coming into the room to pat him on the shell reassuringly.

  “...Not really.” they muttered.

  “Aw Don, y’know what you need?” Raph grinned, hopping from foot to foot as he lightly punched Donnie’s plastron. “Huh? Huh? Buddy? Y’know what you need?”

  “...For you to leave?” Donnie said flatly.

  “Forest ninja training!” Raph beamed.

  “Uh…Raph, d’ya think I could talk to you real quick first, actually?” you said, glancing at Donnie’s sad slumped over figure.

  Raph’s animated jumping slowed. “It’ll be quick, right? ‘Cause these guys are rusty, and Donnie needs some stimulation!”

  Donnie gave a warbling whine that sounded suspiciously like “Nooooo…”, and Raph shot them a glare.

  “Really really quick, yeah.” you nodded, trying and failing to resist the smile on your face at Raph’s antics.

  “Alright, if we havta.” he relented. 

  “Rad.” you said, nodding towards the other room, and he reluctantly followed.

  “Lemme guess. I’m ‘not supposed to tell Donnie that they have no chance with April’.” Raph said tiredly as you left Donnie’s earshot.

  “Nah, that’s not what I was gonna say, actually. You may have been overly blunt about that, but if you hadn’t said something, I probably woulda.” you said, waving your hand dismissively. “I just wanted to remind ya that sayin’ stuff like ‘it’s because we’re mutants and no one’ll ever like us or whatever’ is only gonna hurt Don’ in the long run.”

  “Well…it’s true.” Raph mumbled. “No one ever… would like something like…my siblings and I. The quicker we all accept it, the less…sad Donnie moments there’ll be.”

  And as he stared at the ground, it hit you that Raphael probably believed that.

  Raphael who had only ever been able to believe that he was a freak just for existing the way he did. Raphael who had literally only made friends who weren’t scared of him in this past year. Raphael who had never ever gotten the chance to be a normal kid…

  Poor Raph. 

  “You dumbass, remember the first thing I said to you?” you said finally, your voice coming out harsher than you meant it to.

  Raph glanced up at you, a slight tinge of a darker green in his face. “Uh…you….said I have cool eyes.”

  “Yeah, I said you have gorgeous eyes.” you nodded. “The reason why April doesn’t like Don is simply because she doesn’t like Don. That happens. Plenty of other people probably do find him attractive, or at least will someday. So quit fucking up his already fragile self esteem.”

  “I’m not! They’re the one fucking up his own self esteem by throwing himself at April!” Raph argued, clenching his fists.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t mean to sound like…preachy or something, I guess I’m just tryin’ to say that plenty of people probably do find you guys attractive.” you smiled.

  “Like who, (Y/N)?” Raph sighed.

  You shrugged. “Like I said, you have pretty eyes.”

  Raph blushed again, his tired expression softening. “...You….you really think so?” his voice came out quiet and a little…shyer than it usually did.

  You nodded, smiling.

  He stared at you for a second, and then gently set his arms around you, pulling you into a slightly awkward hug. You bent over a bit to hug him back, but by then he had already pulled away, blushing furiously.

  “Sorry- I- I swear I didn’t mean to, (Y/N)- I just…was surprised.” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his body protectively.

  You smiled good-naturedly and patted his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, dude! You’re allowed to hug me- welcome to, even. Now c’mon, you’ve got some forest ninja training to do, right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah!” his eyes lit up. “(Y/N), you should come! It’s different from training in the city!”

  “Ya think I’ll stand a chance at keeping up?” you said doubtfully.

  “Normally? No. But Mikey and Donnie haven’t trained since like….December, and you’ve been practicing.” Raph grinned. “Plus, you know the woods better than we do. Or…better than they do, at least, I’ve been practicing.” he added with a smug smirk.

  “Awesome.” you grinned.

-

  Raph was trying and failing to get his siblings excited about forest training. But you, on the other hand, seemed hyped.

  Donnie groaned and leaned against a tree, Mikey tripped over a root and didn’t get back up while mumbling something like ‘Just let the vultures eat me’, Leo supervised from the hilltop, and you…you were standing in a fighting stance, hitting the makeshift punching bag Raph had set up.

  Even your stance was perfectly on point, with your right foot and right hand angled in front of your left, perfect for your left to lead the punch…you really had improved a ton in the time since he first met you. He felt himself grinning as you hit a line of quick punches.

  “What’s with the dopey grin, bro-bro?” Mikey said, and Raph jolted. 

  “Shut up!” he yelped, punching Mikey’s arm on instinct. 

  You glanced up, distracted by the commotion. “Angelo! You done pretending to die?”

  “Yeah, I got bored. Being dead is so boring.” Mikey sighed.

  “Oh yeah? What a surprise. It’s almost like lying on the ground being pathetic isn’t as fun as forest ninja training.” Raph scoffed. 

  “Okay, okay. We’ll train.” Mikey groaned. “Anything to stop bein’ so boooored.”

  “Yeah! That’s the spirit, Angelo!” you grinned, punching his arm.

  “Ow!” he squeaked, ripping his arm back.

  “Shit- sorry, I didn’t mean to hit that hard- are you okay?!” you panicked.

  “Yeah, just surprised is all! Dang! Since when do you know how to punch that hard?!” Mikey exclaimed.

  “Uh…since always.” you said.

  “Since I taught you.” Raph said, overlapping you. 

  You shot him a glare, and he held his hands up innocently. “Look I’m just sayin’-”

  “I’ll have you know my problem before was stamina , not power. ” you said, tossing your head, and Raph wasn’t sure if you were genuinely miffed or being purposefully overdramatic.

  “Yeah, but I taught you stamina.” Raph grinned. 

  “You can’t teach stamina, Raphael. What you did was bug me until I trained with you every other day for the past three-and-a-half months. ” you corrected, but you were smiling too, so Raph knew you were indeed being comically overdramatic.

  “But it helped, huh? I get results!” Raph said, and tried to use your shoulder as an armrest, but ultimately failed due to not being tall enough. Typical. He settled for leaning on a nearby tree instead.

  “Hm. Guess I can’t argue with that.” you relented, and proceeded to show off by using his shoulder as an armrest. ( Fuck people who were taller than him… )

  “Aw, you guys’ve been training without us?” Mikey cooed, leaning on Raph’s other shoulder. (What the hell?! Was Mikey taller than him now too?!)

  Raph shoved him off, but let you stay. “Yeah, and it’s paid off. The resta ya are rustier than the Titantic’s butt!” he grinned, using his sai to flip Mikey off.

  You snorted. “Well, to be fair, we’re not in the city anymore- they’re not used to the woods yet.”

  He grinned harder. “Exactly (Y/N)! This is a new environment!” he said, lunging at Mikey and Donnie, who both screamed and dove out of the way. 

  They both slammed into trees, and Raph continued his speech. “No buildings, no subways. Lots of trees!”  

  “Ugh, tell me about it.” Mikey grumbled, rubbing his head. 

  “I feel ya there.” you added, rubbing your own head, and Raph realized with a wave of embarrassment that you had fallen when he darted out at his siblings.

  “Oooh. Sorry (Y/N)” he winced.

  “It’s fine, it’s just grass. And tree roots. Ow!” you snarked. “S’okay though, I’ll just take some ibuprofen.” you added, more seriously this time.

  “Smooth move, Romeo.” Donnie said flatly from their spot on the ground as you walked away to get some pain meds from Leo. 

  Raph blushed. “I don’t- just- shut up! ” he snapped.

  “Ooh ooh, lemme guess! You were gonna say that you ‘don’t like (Y/N)’!” Mikey said, hopping onto his feet. “Y’know, like a liar!”

  Raph scowled. “Mikey, I really don’t. Besides, more importantly- (Y/N) doesn’t like me. So why would I even consider it?”

  “I heard (Y/N) say your eyes are preeeettty though…” Mikey said in a singsong voice. “‘Aw Raphie, your eyes are like the shiniest of algae’!” he added, pitching his voice up in a horrible impression of you. Raph shoved him.

  “You weren’t supposed to hear that!” he hissed. “And anyways, (Y/N) was just sayin’ that to be nice!” 

  “No I wasn’t, ya dolt!” you grinned, flicking his shell. “Get it through your thick skull, why don’tcha?”

   Uh-oh.

  Raph felt like his insides had turned into mush. He suddenly wished he could simply sink into the ground and never show his face ever again…

  “Hi (Y/N).” said Donnie with a smirk.

  “Hi Don…how’s the view from the ground?” you said, bending over to make proper eye contact with Donnie.

  Raph swallowed, feeling his heart slam against his chest. It was okay, things were okay, but they didn’t feel okay… Everything was wrong and too loud and you knew-

  “You okay Rafa?” you said, placing your hand on his shoulder.

  Raph forced himself to take a deep breath, and put his hand on top of yours. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. These idiots just don’t know what they’re talking about.” he scoffed. You didn’t look convinced, with your eyebrows knit together and a worried frown on your face, but instead of pressing him on it, you said “Oh yeah? Sounds about right.”  

  Then you smirked, sticking your tongue out at Mikey, who gasped and held his hand over his heart dramatically.

  “Which is why we need to train, idiots.” Raph said, shaking his head. “Hey Fearless, what do you think?”

  Leo grinned, coming down the hill. “Hm… Turtle hunt. ”

   Well that he could work with! 

  “Turtle hunt.” Raph agreed, turning back to Donnie and Mikey.

  “ Turtle hunt?! ” they chorused, appalled. 

  “Ooh, fun. ” you beamed, hitting your fist into your palm with a loud SMACK .

  “You gonna join in, Leo?” Raph said hopefully.

  Leo nodded. “Yeah, I-” his smile faded as he tried to step forwards, wincing at his bad knee. “Ugh….Sorry. I guess I'm still not up to it. Enjoy your little hunt, guys.” he sighed.

  Raph nodded, trying not to think too hard about Leo’s injuries and how what if he didn’t get better what if Leo couldn’t be their leader what if Raph had to lead and got his family killed by freezing up in the face of the first bad guy they came across-

  “Dude!” yelled Mikey, snapping Raph out of his thoughts.

  “What do you mean by ‘turtle hunt’?” Donnie said nervously.

  Raph smiled. “You guys are gonna head into the forest. I'll give you a five minute head start, then (Y/N) and I hunt you down. If you can't stay hidden for at least an hour, you'll have to clean out the chicken coop.”

  “I was right, this will be fun.” you said, cracking your knuckles.

  “No way!”

  “Not the chicken coop, man!”

  “It smells like cheese fossils!”

  “It's got spiders so big, they play the banjo!” Donnie and Mikey protested, overlapping each other. 

  “We can't clean that thing!” Donnie said, crossing their arms.

  “Then get moving.” Raph grinned.

  And with that, his siblings both glanced at each other and ran into the woods.

  There was a beat of silence, and your smile faded. 

  “Hey, Rafa? You okay?” you said once Donnie and Mikey were solidly out of earshot.

  “Of course! What, do I seem not okay?!” Raph said, voice cracking.

  You gave him an unimpressed stare. 

  He glared back, crossing his arms. “I dunno what you’re on about, (Y/N).”

  You held your hands up. “Okay, okay, if you say so…I guess I just worry about you sometimes, Raph. You’ve been kinda off ever since the invasion. And I mean, that’s obviously understandable, what with…everything, but like…Well. It’s none of my business, but whatever it is that you’re goin’ through…we’ve got your back, you know?” you said, shrugging.

  Raph swallowed. You wouldn’t be saying that if you found out a freak like him liked you. Good lord he was as bad as Donnie…

   “Or shell, or whatever.” you continued.

  Heck, if you knew what he was ‘goin’ through’, you’d probably never want to talk to him ever again.

  But then again…you did like his eyes, right?

  Sure, but you were a human . You were only even friends with him in the first place because he’d saved you from the purple dragons months ago. The instant you found out he’d taken your kind words to heart was the instant when you’d make like basically every other human and run away screaming.

  After all, you were a human, and he was a giant talking turtle. The sooner he accepted it the better, like he’d told Donnie. 

  “Sure, (Y/N). Sure ya do.” he said finally.

  You laughed quietly. “You don’t believe me, huh? Raphael, when the hell are you gonna get it through your dumb brain that I like you? You’re my friend!”

  “No I’m not!” Raph snapped. “I’m just the mutant who saved your butt once and now ya wanna make up for it or something!”

  Your eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, what? Dude! Do you think I’d be out here in the middle of nowhere sparring with you until my muscles feel like fucking jelly if I didn’t like spending time with you?! Do you think I’d constantly compliment you if I didn’t believe it? Do you think I’d care about how obviously weird you’re being if I didn’t care about your wellbeing? I don’t bloody wanna make up for anything, I wanna be around you! You specifically! I fucking love spending time with you Raphael!” you yelled.

  He felt his face burn, trying to come up with a response. “-Y-Yeah?!” 

  “Yeah!” you snapped.

  “Cool! Me too!” he yelled, glaring at you.

  You blinked, deflating. “...This is a really stupid conversation.”

  He nodded, facepalming. “...Yeah.”

  “Can we just agree that you’re my favorite person and I’m your favorite person and move along with our day?” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

  Raph smiled, shaking his head. “ Please .”

  ( He was your favorite person?! Him ?! Raphael?! ) (He stifled a grin.)

  “C’mon, let’s hunt some turtles.” he said, reaching for his sai.

-

Author's note: I'm not suuuper fond of this one honestly, but y'know what? That's okay, it's decent enough. I actually wrote this back in like May or June tbh, but I've only posted it to ao3- so I figured I might as well share it here too

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph x reader #raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph #2k12 raph x reader #2k12 raph

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

58-Masks and Confessions

Over a year ago

Jason could feel his breath hitch in his throat when your hands came up to his mask, feeling the texture before finally going to the back of it to feel for a release button. He told you could do it, but that didn’t stop the unease. What would you do when you realized it was him? The guy who you had called your best friend and shared your deepest secrets with. It was the fear of you wanting nothing to do with him that had kept him from telling you. 

As you felt along the jawline of his helmet, you mumbled, “You gotta release or something on this?” 

Jason chuckled before taking your hands into his gloved ones and putting them back at your side. You took the hint and kept them there as he reached up and behind on his helmet. There was a click followed by a sound of released compression. Before Red had taken the helmet off, he said, “Promise me you won’t get mad.”

That line had sounded too familiar to you, and the wheels in your head had started to turn. You only nodded and whispered, “I promise.”

Jason pulled his helmet off, taking in the cool air of your apartment and opening his eyes to meet yours. You were speechless, staring at him with eyes so wide that Jason could practically see the thoughts connecting in your head. Nothing came out of your mouth, and he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or displeased by it. On the one hand, you didn’t seem angry, but, on the other, you weren’t saying anything at all which left him in the dark about your feelings. 

“Jason,” You let out a gasp. Before yelling, “Jason!”

Sheepishly, he said, “That’s me.”

“What—why—No, when…” You stopped talking, plopping down onto the couch and burying your head in your hands. He slowly sank next to you, about to ask if you were okay before you looked back at him. “I think I’m mad at myself for not noticing sooner.”

Jason smiled. “I hear I’m a really good actor.”

You chuckled before turning to bury your head in your hands. “Oh, fuck me, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Were you worried that I would tell people?”

Jason was quick to deny this. “No, I just didn’t want you to think differently of me. Or hate me because…ya know.”

You wanted to hug him, to reach out and take him into your embrace. “I don’t hate you.”

Jason’s mouth felt dry and his hands shook a bit as anxiety and excitement all started to churn in his chest. If it was any worse, Jason seriously thought he was going to throw up all over your coffee table. Nodding his head, he ran his hands down the front of his pants in an attempt to get the sweat off his palms until he remembered he was wearing gloves. 

“That’s—that’s good to hear,” He said, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Yeah,” You looked away from him for a second before back at him again. “This might be a bad time, but I—I really can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“What?” 

You acted like you didn’t hear his desperate question. “Now that I know that you’re Red Hood and Jason Todd, I feel like it all makes sense now. You know?” 

Jason tried to be patient, but the anxiety was wearing it thin, “You really gotta just come out with it, sweetheart. You’re killin’ me over here.” 

After a second of staring at him, you said confidently, “I like you, Jason. A lot.” 

All at once Jason felt the sudden joy of your affection hit and it made him dizzy. He stared at you before choking out, “Really?”

You smiled, nodding, “Really. I’ve been so confused because of how I felt about you and Red Hood. It was weird because I liked you both for the same reasons. Now I know why.”

Jason felt the urge to lean forward and kiss you, but he wasn’t ready for that. He took a deep breath, finally saying, “I like you a lot, too.”

Grinning, you looked away to hide the blush coming to your cheeks. He turned his head, too, to hide his even though you weren’t looking. Jason couldn’t remember ever being so happy, not recently at the least. You liked him. Red Hood and all. The sensation made him want to jump around the room like a teenager. 

“So,” You said, turning back to him. “Do you, um—do you wanna go on a date? Like, I don’t know, tomorrow? Or, is that too soon?”

Jason couldn’t think because now you were asking him on a date. A real date. He could fucking giggle, he was so excited. He saw the anxious waiting on your face, and he realized he was taking way too long to answer. “Yes! Yes. I’d love to, and tomorrow is fine.”

You smiled again, looking back down at your lap, before reaching for his abandoned helmet on the coffee table. Throwing it between your hands, you felt up the sides and top, before starting to put it on Jason’s lap. You stopped just as his hands brushed it, taking it and flipping it over to see the inside. 

“It must get hot,” You said, holding the helmet up at just the right angle so you could see through the eyes of it. “Maybe, if you want, you could tell me more about being Red Hood?”

Jason smiled, taking the helmet from your hands. “Maybe. I don’t want to turn you off from me.”

“You won’t.” You assured him, and he could sense your sincereness. 

For the first time in a long while, Jason looked forward to tomorrow.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #romance #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #batfamily #bruce wayne #red hood fanfic #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd fic #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #learning to love slowly

[ghostchems]

a grave date - preview! mary goore x female!reader

a/n: been thinkin on this for a while and finally am writing it. this will be multiple "parts" but all will be posted together as one complete fic. stay tuned! :D

one

One of your New Year’s resolutions is to “embrace the spooky”. You are regretting it now that you’ve decided to take a shortcut through the local graveyard on your way home. The cool air pricks your cheeks, the temperature having dropped drastically once the sun went down. Your hands are shoved deep into your sweatshirt pocket and you keep your eyes on the path in front of you. Another one of your resolutions is to make more time for friends, which is why you’re walking through the graveyard in the first place. One of your closest friends lives within walking distance of your apartment but you’ve barely seen each other over the last year due to busy schedules and lack of effort. Not anymore, though! You’re being social and remembering how much fun it can be to catch up with friends and do activities.

You’ve been a bit of a shut-in — but at the moment, you can’t wait to be back home. Fog clings to the trees and obelisks, dim lights spaced out along your path barely fighting off the dark. There are some urban legends, some completely made up but some based on historical true crime. About fifty odd years ago, a woman was here visiting the grave of her mother and ended up sadly being murdered as she mourned. People talk of sightings, calling her Mother’s Ghost, but that is just a load of local gossip, right?

Right?

“Evenin’! Are ya lost?” You’re just about to spiral when he calls out to you, a lanky arm in the air to catch your attention as you slow your walk to a stop, eyes focusing on him. Oh, lord. He sounded cheerful, polite but your eyes land on his face covered in blood, throwing several red flags up in your brain. You sputter, blinking to make sure what you’re seeing is real.

“I’m trying to get to Hitchcock Ave.” Finally, the words come out in one quick breath. The man comes closer, the faint light allowing you to see him more clearly. He’s lanky, has long legs and skinny arms complete with a sleeveless, ripped t-shirt.

“Ah, you’re already on the right track.” He’s standing about an arms length of you now, scratching the back of his head. You should be afraid of this man but there’s something about his demeanor and the kindness in his voices make you decide to at least hear what he has to say. “If you go a lil’ bit further down the path til’ you reach the crypts and then make a left, the Hitchcock entrance is straight ahead.” He gives you direct eye contact with his cool green eyes while also using his hand to point along with his directions. You don’t say anything, silently digesting his words. His eyes roam your features and his full lips start to tug into a small grin. He lifts his hands up in surrender. “Promise I’m tellin’ the truth. If you have any trouble, you come right back here and I’ll bend over so you can kick my ass.”

You snort. You can’t help it! In no way were you expecting him to say that.

“Alright, alright. Thank you.” You smile at him and his grin only grows. He waves you off as you continue down the path. There are a few times you look back to see him lingering in the same spot, seeing you off at least until you reach the crypts. Who the hell is he? Was he just hanging out in the cemetery? Is he a ghost? You follow his directions and end up right on Hitchcock like he said and something about him helping you out makes your heart flutter.

Still, a strange feeling comes over you for the rest of your walk home.

#mary goore x reader #mary goore x female reader #mary goore #repugnant #repugnant fic #mary goore fic

[noosayog]

[Cold Feet] in which Atsumu gets cold feet before he even gets engaged

wc: 1.8K

warnings/content: angst to fluff, exes(?) to lovers?

noos's notes: This was originally intended to be pure angst, but I love a happy ending :')

Miya Atsumu wonders if you’re doing the same thing he is, staring at the ceiling, wishing you were in bed with him. He also wonders how things ended up like this. He only knows a couple of things with certainty in his life and those things are volleyball and that he loves you. He now regrets why he ever doubted that second thing. 

-

Two nights ago

Atsumu was nervous. After five years of dating you, he had bought an engagement ring that’s been tucked in the highest corner of your shared closet for a week now. It was an impulsive decision, really. Of course, he had vaguely envisioned getting married to you someday, but it was not something he had foreseen happening so soon. He’s still not sure what he had been thinking when he bought it. You two had never truly talked about taking your relationship to the next level. Was this just the next expected step in your relationship, now that you’ve been together for so long? Was this what you expected from him? He could think of nothing but the anxiety growing in his chest, the small piece of jewelry sitting at the crux of his worries and rendering him unable to focus on anything else. 

He kept this bottled up and to himself. No one knew. Not his teammates, not his brother, not you. For the first time ever, he found himself unable to completely immerse himself in the match that day. He knew that you knew something was wrong, but this was a problem he had to handle on his own, so he decided to go to a Black Jackals celebration that night instead of going straight home to you. And perhaps against his better judgment, he got drunk. 

At the end of the night, he’s almost incoherent and Meian had to call you to take him home. Upon your arrival, you gently took hold of his arm and threw it over your shoulder to take him to the car. Why were you so good to him now? Did you not know the havoc you’ve been wreaking on him for the past week? He felt a surge of irrational annoyance and pushed away from you. “Why are ya here? I can do things on my own.” 

You don’t understand the double meaning behind his words. 

You had laughed, thinking it’s drunken antics “Okay, ‘Tsumu. But I already came all the way out here, so won’t you please let me take care of my silly boyfriend?” 

The annoyance grew. It felt like a hot flash in his sternum. “No. Don’t need yer help. Can ya leave me alone?” 

You were taken aback. In a quiet voice, you responded. “Okay. Fine, but can you at least tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been weird all week and I don’t want to do this in front of your team, but you can’t speak to me that way.” 

“We should break up.” 

At the resurgence of that memory, Atsumu turns to lay on his side, curling up and clutching at his chest. He almost wants to pass out, both in pain and to avoid remembering what comes next. 

“What?” 

“I’m done with us, with us being together.” 

You stumbled back, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, but continue as calmly as you can. “Atsumu, can we talk in the morning? I’ll take you home or to Osamu’s if you don’t want to be with me right now. But I want us to talk this out so I can understand where this is coming from.” 

He didn’t understand how you could be so calm, so composed while he’s over here going crazy thinking about issues that center around you. Something in him snapped.

“No! Can ya just back off? I wanna be done with this, so we’re done.”

You’re crying now, but you persisted. You closed the distance between the two of you and cupped his face in your hands. Your hands were cool to the touch and the way you had tenderly taken his warm cheeks into your palms overwhelmed him. You tried one last time. 

“‘Tsumu, can we please talk about this later? Let me take you home now.” 

“No. I don’t wanna be with ya anymore. I’m going back with Bokuto.”

After that night, he had been wasting away on Bokuto’s couch for the past 2 days. After having all his teammates witness the scene that night, they pried the truth out of Atsumu. It felt liberating to let out his repressed feelings and there was a stark realization that you had been the unfortunate outlet of his immaturity. After a good scolding from Sakusa, Meian assured him that it’s natural to feel anxious at the thought of spending forever with one person. Marriage was a big deal, after all. 

At that, he bristled. He never once imagined being without you. It wasn't the thought of being with you forever at which he balked. It was then that he realized that he had been so caught up in putting an official title on your relationship, that he completely overlooked the very simple fact that he loves you and wants to be with you forever. He can’t imagine being with someone else and worse yet, the thought of you being with someone else was potent enough to kill. 

So Atsumu returns to your shared apartment, where he should have gone that night, with you. He knocks on the door, like he's giving you a warning that he would be intruding in your space by coming home. The feeling is foreign and he hates it. After a couple seconds of silence, he unlocks the door. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. 

The apartment feels too spacious, almost empty. The windows are closed and the air is stale. You always slept with the windows open. He calls your name, louder each time. Every room he checks is empty. The last place he looks is your shared bedroom, where he finds half the closet empty. The bathroom is devoid of your toothbrush and your little bottles of skincare. It isn't hard to understand that you had left. Just like what he had asked for. 

Atsumu sits on the mattress, bed made and pillows fluffed like it’s from a furniture store showroom. He calls and they go to voicemail. He texts but they don’t send. None of your friends pick up. 

As he lays in bed alone, he thinks of all his regrets. How could it be that less than a week ago, you were laying next to him, safe in his arms, his and only his. Now, he doesn’t know where to start looking for you. If he even has the right to. You had tried so hard that night to talk things out with him so why didn’t he just talk to you? Why didn’t he cherish every second he got to spend with you? Why is it only now that he realizes how unbearable it is to not be with you? What was he doing, wallowing in his regrets at Bokuto’s house all weekend? He could have come home immediately and maybe stopped you from leaving. For what seems like the longest night, Atsumu agonizes over his thoughts before finally giving in to a restless sleep close to dawn. 

– 

In the morning, he calls Osamu. Osamu does know where you are. He gives his idiotic brother a piece of his mind but offers up the address to your friend’s house. 

You open the door when Atsumu knocks and you do your best to school your expression to one of indifference. During the couple of days in absence of Atsumu, you’ve done some thinking on your own. You still love Atsumu, but he has made it clear he no longer wants you in his life. And while you could respect that even if it hurts, it was wrong for him to embarrass you in front of all his teammates and dismiss your pleas to talk. 

His eyes flick down to your body and you realize you’re wearing one of his old hoodies. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Atsumu.” 

“Hi. Can we please talk?”

“I think it would be best if we didn’t. If I left anything at your place, I can come pick it up another time.” You pick at the hoodie. “I’ll return this after washing it,” 

Atsumu reels back at this and closes his eyes at that. “No, I don’t- Baby, I-” 

“Please don’t call me that. You said you wanted us to be done and I am respecting that.” 

Atsumu takes a deep breath and presses on. “Ya said ya wanted to talk that night when I’m sober. I want to do that.” 

You wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “That’s not fair,” you whisper. “This isn’t fair of you. You know what you did was not okay. You can’t just say things like that and come back and expect me to do what you want to do, when you want to do it.” 

He hates that he's the one causing you all this pain. He wants nothing more than to promise he’ll never do it again, apologize until you understand that you’re worth the world. 

“I love ya. I’ve been thinking about marrying ya. But I’m an idiot and got scared about it all by myself. So I spun myself in circles thinking about marrying ya and let out all my anxieties and frustrations out on ya that night. But I know for absolute certain that I want to be with ya forever. And longer, if you’ll let me. I know I should have dealt with this better and I promise I’ll always talk to ya about my thoughts, instead of keeping it all to myself. I guess I felt ashamed that I even had second thoughts about marrying ya. I know I don’t deserve yer forgiveness and I’m being crazy selfish, but I’ll always have regrets if I don’t do everything I can to win ya back. I’ll do whatever it takes because I know I’ll never leave ya again. Won’t ya give me one last chance to show ya?”

You know you shouldn’t forgive him. You know he doesn’t deserve it no matter how he apologizes and promises you worlds. But the fact remains that you’re still in love with Atsumu. And it is the truth that he’s filled you with so much happiness in the five years you’ve shared with him. And it stands that these past few days were relentlessly miserable without him. 

“You-” you choke on a sob. “You really won’t get any chances after this, okay?” 

Atsumu doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, your tears soaking his shirt and his lips desperately pressed to your hair. “I won’t need any others.”

#noos writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #hq angst #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #miya atumu angst

[ask-funnybunnydoll]

Hi!

I think I have to move on.

You may have noticed that all of a sudden my posts have become less and less frequent. That's not on purpose I simply don't have the motivation to keep this ask blog going. I made this blog at the peak of my TADC hyperfixation because I knew it would give me the boost to work. At the start I made like, what? 2 a day, wowzas! Then it became like every other day posts. It's not that I don't enjoy the blog, the ship, the asks. Hell, the asks were the best part of this, I love just seeing what you guys come up with for these three and I get to do the even more fun part of drawing the answer.

But I still have no motivation to keep this going. And I have fixated on something else if you follow my main.

So, thank you for being here and still liking my posts even if I hadn't posted often. This was the most fun I've had and being my first ask blog I ever created just makes it more important to me.

I probably won't ever revive this blog but I'll keep it open for you. And if you want to see what the story I originally planned out was gonna be then check below the cut! Or if you wanna stay curious and theorize then just scroll by. Thank you again, hope ya have a great day and year. I hope my shit was at least okay to you.

I'm not gonna lie. Most of the stuff was just created along the way of drawing. I was like, huh this would be cool let's add that in. And ofc I didn't get to any juicy lore in this but it would've been rushed because I didn't plan beforehand... which you probably could tell xd

For Pomni, here's the plot twist: she's dead and her conscience was updated into the game to keep her somewhat alive. She worked in the place that created the game, she even took part in putting people in there. The entire game was just an expirement to test if immortality was possible, but of course.. everyone goes insane in there so they have to keep on and keep on trying with more and more people to get anywhere. They wait until someone goes to edge of absolute insanity and that's when they take them out of the game, their bodies are still kept alive and they go back to normal. They forget everything that happened while in the game. For Pomni she died just after her conscience was converted to the game, for others they were forced to go while alive. Who killed Pomni? Well, her boss, the head of the experimentation. Why? Idk 😭

For Jax, I gave him a dark story. He was isolated in his home and kept away from the outside world, which is why he lacks empathy, because he simply doesn't know how to feel that way when he never really had knowledge of emotions outside or even inside his home. His father was emotionally and physically ab4sive so.. that didn't help. He latched onto his mother the most but they never saw eachother often. That's all I had for him in mind.

For Ragatha, she lived in the country on her own land with her husband. Yup! She had a husband and a daughter too. Husband was a total jerk and she couldn't leave because she didn't want their kid to experience separated parents. She's a doll in the game because it resembles the doll she made for her daughter.

I also had some plot that I made up in my mind. Like.... Pomni at the end would be the last one alone in the digital circus. That being since she's dead she would just be yknow. Dead if she left the game. Jax and Ragatha leave but only because Pomni forces them. Again don't know how, I probably would have made it up while I went along with the story. So, Pomni is just there alone, with Caine. And she lives like that for eternity. She doesn't go insane anymore and it isn't as lonely as it used to feel like. It would feel like home kind of. But she would be there, longing for her partners forever unless she decides one day to just. Yknow, die..

Also since Jax and Ragatha would forget everything after they leave the game, they just don't remember they were in a relationship and would live their lives like before. Sad and lonely.

Goodness, I forget I make the most sad stories ever sometimes 😭

#thank you #anyway who wants to go get angel food cake 😍😍

[tantei-chan01]

John Dory's Conversation

Xxxxx

‘Man this hurts.’ JD thought to himself, holding an ice pack to his eye. You're probably wondering what happened to give JD a black eye. Once the group returned to Pop Village, Poppy immediately contacted the other kingdoms, surprising JD, Bruce, and Floyd with her being queen.

After explaining what happened, a certain rock queen decided that they weren't punished enough and tried to attack them, getting a good hit on JD before being pulled back by a larger troll. ‘But it's not like I didn't deserve it.’ JD thought sullenly, 'After all,what kind of older brother just abandons the baby of the family.' 

That's what's bothering him. 20 years ago, after failing to reach the perfect family harmony, he just packed up his essentials and basically abandoned his family. It didn't matter if he eventually came back. Having your brothers walk out on you is a pain that can't be redeemed. JD sighed in regret, "You know, they say if you sigh, a piece of happiness leaves you."

JD turns around and sees Delta walking towards him, a soft smile on her pretty face. John gives her a sad smile, "It's not like I deserve any happiness, after what I've done."

Delta frowned as she sat next to him, "Now, Sugar, you know that's not true."

"Isn't it?!" He looked down, digging his nails into his palms, "I left my baby brother alone! And for what?! To hike the Everglade Trail?! To not be in charge and run away from any sort of responsibility like a coward?!" He could feel the hot tears threatening to come out, but he held them back, he didn't deserve it.

Delta gently took his hand and gently relaxed his fingers, rubbing the nail mark on his palm, "I'm not going to lie to ya, John, you made a mistake, a big one." She gently caressed one of his many calluses on his hand, "But that doesn't mean you're irredeemable."

"I could've taken him with me. I could've spared him all this trauma if I had just taken him with me."

"Or ya could've put the both of you in danger! Don't you remember how I found ya?"

JD blushed in embarrassment, "I'd rather not remember." 

"You were passed out in the middle of the desert, with heat stroke and no water for miles! Those goggles certainly didn't help keep you cool." She would never forget that day. What you think would be a routing check for stray buffalo ends up becoming a rescue of a strange troll in a puffy jacket.

"Still though," he messed with his goggles, a nervous tick he never outgrew, "I could've done something."

"John, you can't keep thinking of what you could've done. You have to think of what you can do now. Branch is right here, still waiting for his brothers to show that they still love him. He may not forgive you right away, but isn't he worth it?"

JD closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He remembered holding onto Branch's egg after he saw their parents being carried away by a bergen. He remembered how small those hands were against his, how Branch would hide in his hair like all trollings would do with their parents, the first time he heard him giggle, all precious moments.

"Yes," he opened his eyes, finally clear after so long, "he is worth it. It doesn't matter if it takes the next 20, 30, or even 40 years to forgive me. I'm not going to leave him, not again."

Delta smiled at him, happy to see the determination back in his eyes, "That's what I'd like to hear."

#trolls #trolls branch #mute!branch #dreamworks trolls #au #trolls band together #branch #trolls the beat goes on #trolls world tour #trolls john dory #trolls delta dawn

[urhoneycombwitch]

Hiya I remember awhile ago you did a blurb with autistic!reader and I was wondering if you’d be open to doing another one? I haven’t found many fics with an autistic reader and would love love love to see more ❤️

foreword: thanks for requesting, anon. autistic!reader is very close to my heart <3 this is based on personal experience with autistic shutdowns, I obviously do not speak for the entire autistic community as this looks differently for everyone, but hopefully some of you can find yourselves reflected here.

cw: descriptions of autistic shutdown, R goes nonverbal, gender neutral!R, pet names are used

___

You can feel it coming from a mile away- that slow, sticky, sinking feeling that starts in your stomach and ends trapped in your throat.

Words come fewer and far between, near the end of your shift- everything feels too loud and too bright and too much.

In the relative quiet of the driver’s seat, you idle in the parking lot, head thunked against the worn headrest, hands limp on the wheel. It’s like someone is walking through the halls of your brain, flicking off all the light switches as they go, leaving you empty and hollowed out.

Starting the drive towards home, you will yourself to feel something, anything, but know from experience that’s not how this works- you’re gonna have to ride the wave. Which normally would leave you feeling claustrophobic and panicky, but right now, you barely have the energy to keep your eyes on the road.

Hawkins is lush and blooming with spring, wildflowers growing alongside the roads, daisies poking out from the cool shade the row of trailers provides. It’s usually your favorite time of year, the sun easing any leftover aches from winter- but as you step out into the cool air, work bag slung over one shoulder, the sun can’t touch the dark shroud of your mind.

The trailer smells like heady herbs and spices, steam billowing from stovetop pots; Eddie’s monitoring them closely, wooden spoon dipping between the two to stir. When he hears the front door close, he half-turns to you, keeping his eye line on the stove- “Hey, sweetheart- pasta’s almost ready then I’ll kiss ya. Want parmesan on yours?”

“Mhm.” A soft noise, in the back of your throat, just barely louder than the buzz of the overhead fan. “I’m gonna… change.”

The words feel clunky, like you’re chewing on them before letting them out, leaving them thin and stretched; you don’t give Eddie time to engage in more conversation, moving at what you hope is a normal and not strangely-slow pace down the hall.

It’s quieter, in your room, the clanking of kitchen noises dimmed by the half-closed door. Your work bag drops with a thunk to the carpet. With movements syrupy-slow, you sit on the edge of the bed, toeing off your shoes, not bothering to strip off your jean jacket before curling onto your side, facing the wall.

Your hands cup the insides of your elbows, absently squeezing, your vision fuzzy with paint-chipped wall, the corner of a Dio poster. The overhead light is searingly bright, humming with energy, but you’re not ready to close your eyes and give in just yet, wanting to delay the strange and upsetting dreams that are sure to plague your sleep tonight.

Distantly, you hear the kitchen fan go quiet, then some more clanking, heavy footsteps down the hall- and then the click and subsequent gentle darkness of the bedroom light getting turned off.

With all the sources of indoor noise gone, you can track Eddie’s path through the room easily- first he cracks open the window, the far-off sound of birds twittering, a gust of sunset-tinged air breezing in; then he clicks on the bedside lamp, a glow much warmer and softer than the overhead light settling into the room.

”Oh, baby,” he murmurs, deep-timbered voice rich with compassion and worry. Under normal circumstances it’d bring you to tears.

You feel the mattress dip under Eddie’s weight before he asks, “Can I hold you?”

When you manage another hum, Eddie stretches out behind you on the mattress, your body molding easily into him. His arms wrap gentle but firm around your middle, legs slotting into the space made by your stacked knees, his chin resting securely over the crown of your head.

Your breaths come easier, with the pressure of his body; Eddie smells good, familiar- like spiced deodorant, cooking basil, lingering cigarette-smoke. You can feel his voice vibrating from where his throat is pressed into you as he speaks again.

”Thought something might be up when you got home- either that or you were trying a new method to break the time loop I was trapped in, ‘cuz that’s the only other reason I can think of as to why you wouldn’t kiss me immediately.”

He’s teasing, and while you can’t bring yourself to laugh, you slip your hand into one of his, fingers interlacing, giving him a little squeeze.

Eddie returns the gesture, rings cold but quickly warming against the back of your hand. “Your mean ol’ brain lock you out again?”

When you hum again in weary admission, Eddie clucks his tongue, pulling you into himself a bit tighter- “Gonna look around for that damn key, it’s gotta be around here somewhere. Y’know, if you wanted me on my hands and knees you could’ve just said so.”

Another squeeze from you, returned as Eddie lifts his head to press his lips to the side of yours. “I’m gonna help you out of this jacket, get you something comfy to wear, and then we’re gonna eat our pasta in bed because we are goddamn grown-ups with grown-up privileges. Sound like a plan?”

You nod, and Eddie reluctantly moves away from the warmth of your body, pressing another kiss to your exposed cheek before going over to rummage through the dresser drawers for some pajamas.

The tightness in your chest loosens, just slightly, but enough to draw in a full breath for the first time in hours.

The fog in your mind remains, but as Eddie starts telling you about his next campaign plans, filling the air with a steady and welcome stream of chatter, you feel light in the distance, a bit of hope leaking through the dark.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #e.m. thots from lu #eddie Munson x autistic!reader #autistic!reader #gn!reader

[gloxk]

“Mary Jane.”

Gojo satoru ~

Summary: Your best friend was a snake. She slept with your boyfriend at a party. Everything shattered when you saw them. Your heart broke, leaving you with hatered and resentment. But two can play that game. Didn't she know? Karma’s a bitch.

W/C : 2k+. READING TIME: 10 minutes.

Setting: Modern Au, Reader is in their 20’s.

Song inspo:The best I ever had (Limi)/ Birthday S*X (Jeremih)/Drunk in love (The weekends version)/What you need(the weekend.)

A/N: Happy kinktober. It’s been a minute. (I've returned just for this years kinktober) idk i’ve just been busy fr. I haven’t been writing at all 😭. But I was on tik tok right, and i saw this lil video abt a story. So yall know those reddit stories? Bro this story was fucking outrageous, i tell ya. So boom bro got cheated on by his gf and she slept w his best friend. I was like damnnnnn 💀 ain’t no way. So bro turned around n fcked his ex best friends sister. The crazy thing is HE RECORDED IT. AND HE SENT IT TO BRO. I got carried away w this one. (I was high asf.) But anyway please enjoy! My grammar might be fucked up i didn’t feel like prof reading. Mdni/ageless blogs you will be blocked. 17+.

Warnings: F/M relations,Jealousy, angst if you squint, friend dumping, lewd behavior, DRUGS & alcohol. (mary J) mentions of Ex, BJ’s, Male receiving, unprotected sex (I got a little nasty w this one)

————————————————

You sat there disappointed in your dry phone. It was like looking at a blank screen. The night was cold, dark, and quiet. Everything was different now that you cut off your toxic-ass best friend. Deleting all the pictures and videos of you two. All the happiness and laughter y’all had shared just for it to be ruined in a few hours. The incident only happened a few days ago.

You decide to scroll through your alt account’s Instagram feed hoping to see something interesting. Something interesting indeed popped up. A little green circle around your ex-best friend’s profile picture. “Curiosity killed the cat ya’know?”, It surely killed you as soon as you clicked it. She was with your Ex. Your face scrunched in disbelief. You couldn’t help but muster up a pitiful laugh. What was going through her goddamn mind? Did she know the alt belong to you? Was the random pinterest boy profile picture not convincing enough? You nearly tossed your phone to the ground you felt tears bubbling up in your eyes. You remember the whole thing like it was yesterday. The horrible things you said to each other. But one thing she said in particular stuck in your head. “You aren’t even together anymore! Why the fuck do you care Y/n?”, Those were the last words she said to you, the last words you needed to hear to leave her alone. It hurt you so much, the girl you known from middle school betrayed you.

It was late maybe around 11 pm. Your mind was filled with anger. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You told her everything and she did the same. You two grew up together. When you introduced your boyfriend and best friend they hit it off. They were so cool with each other that it seemed like a dream come true. Having your best friend actually like your boyfriend was extremely rare to come by. Your dream came short-lived after you found them fucking in a bathroom at a party. It hurt so fucking bad. You clenched your shirt trying not to cry. That night broke you, you lost everything in 4 hours. All it took was a couple of shots and one blunt to have your whole world crash. In a fit of rage, you decided to go through her entire Instagram feed. Scrolling through every single post. In a recent post from earlier today, you saw a dump of her stepbrother. All of the pictures were silly, cute pictures of him. You couldn’t lie, he was fine as fuck. You saw her stepbrother a couple of times when y'all were younger, but god did puberty hit him good. He was tall and muscular with a sharp jawline. He has white hair and beautiful ocean-colored eyes. He had a couple of arm tattoos as well. You sat there trying to remember his name. You looked over the caption trying to find something leading to him, the caption read: “HAPPY 19th BIRTHDAY @satoruxgxjo! I hope 19 treats you good lil, bro :).” That was his name! You finally remembered him. Satoru gojo, it was definitely moan-able. You DM’D him almost immediately.

(Y/n): “Hey! I saw your birthday was earlier and I wanted to wish you a happy 19th birthday!” You didn’t know what you expected him to say back to that. You didn’t know if you wanted him to immediately block you or text you back. Maybe if he blocked you would be able to move on and heal. But all you wanted was revenge. After two minutes you got a notification from Instagram. (satoruxgxjo): “Yo, I appreciate it. it’s been a minute. How have you been?” A smug smile arose on your face. You instantly texted him back. (Y/n): “I’ve been amazing. Recently I had just got some za from a friend and since it’s your birthday maybe we can roll up?” You watch as your text goes from Sent to Seen. Your heart immediately went faster.(satoruxgxjo): “Lmao? That was quick but sure. I don’t mind. Addy?” Your face was sinister. If he could see your face right here probably think twice about his current decision. You sent him your location, (Y/n): “I mean it’s not like we don’t know each other Saturo, just pull up :) We can catch up!”, You were so happy that this was gonna work out perfectly. (satoruxgxjo): “Who is Saturo? It’s Satoru* n I’m otw.” That happiness quickly faded into embarrassment. How could you forget his name already? You repeated it 10x to remember it, while repeating his name you quickly got up and rushed upstairs.

You dressed yourself in a loose shirt that hung off your shoulders, your chest was the only thing holding it up. Underneath you made sure to treat your guests to an easy reveal no bra and pink Victoria's Secret lace panties. Your hair was messy letting little strands of hair frame your face. You rushed downstairs to set everything up, you grabbed an open bottle of Hennessy and accompanied it with a jar of bud including a pack of Raw’s. Everything was set for the most part. You dimmed the lights and played some sensual music. You turned your TV on to some random Netflix show to make it seem casual. You soon turned your attention to the door as the doorbell rang. A wicked smile placed on your face, your hips swaying to the music. You opened the door and smiled at your victim—I mean visitor. “Heyy~.” Your voice filled with a welcoming tone. Luring him in like a fisherman. “Hey, Y/n.” He had a basic white shirt on, and his muscular body filled it out nicely. His lower half was hidden behind grey sweatpants, He had on white cross that were no longer white. His tall frame continued to tower over you. He sounded so nonchalant, but his blue eyes told a different story. He couldn’t stop looking at your bare shoulders. “Come in hun.” You moved out of his way and motioned him to the couch. The table caught his attention immediately. You made your way to the kitchen swaying to the beat of the music. “Henny? Whatcha got this for?” He picked up the bottle with an eager smile. “Why else Satoru?” You winked at him. Watching him open the bottle and pour himself a shot. “Well, Hopefully, it’s not for little ole me. God, you wouldn’t make such a silly mistake and give an underage boy Hennessy? Right?” He asked mocking you. A smug expression on his face. You couldn’t wait to wipe it off. “Oh of course not! I would never do such a disgraceful thing. But..I won’t tell if you won’t.” He threw his head back and he gulped down the shot of liquor. The burning sensation only made him crave it more. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” He chuckled as he watched you sit down on the couch. He soon followed you and plopped down beside you. “You ever rolled before?” You looked at him as you picked up the grinder. “Nah, I’m more of a pipe or hookah person. Ya’know?” You giggled at him. He was falling into your trap without even knowing. “Lemme show you how to roll then.”. You took him through the basic steps. Letting your hands guide his. After a few attempts, he was able to get a good enough roll for a beginner. “And now ya gotta lick it.” You bent over his lap using his muscular arm to hold yourself up. You dragged your tongue over the paper making sure to seal it. You took the joint from him and began to light it. His eyes watched you dangerously. After a couple of pulls, you handed it back over to him. He pulled a heavy hit making him cough. You poured another shot for the both of you. Handing him a glass of liquor. “Oh? Is that for me? How kind.” Your hand sat between his thighs. “Of course.” He took the glass and knocked it back, and you followed his lead.

You weren’t slightly drunk nor were you high. But you couldn’t say the same for Satoru. He almost finished your bottle of Hennessy. His head was between your neck and shoulder. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, you didn’t particularly care what he was babbling about. He was lying between your legs using your chest to keep him propped up. His hands rubbing your thigh, “Mm..please.” He mumbled desperately. “I told you not to drink too much Gojo. Now look at you.” You laughed as you rubbed his head. “.. I know. m’ sorry. Please y/n. Please.” You were confused you didn’t know what he was asking for to be quite frank. “You should get an Uber to take you home.” You nudged him to get off of you. He didn’t budge at all. His eyes looked up at you pleading with you. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay with you. lemme stay.” He was so whiny while he was drunk it was pissing you off. “Okay, you can stay.” He hummed softly in response. “upstairs?” You whispered in his ear, he nodded his head. You moved off the couch pulling him off with you. You walked him up the stairs to your bedroom. He was stumbling up the stairs you had to hold him up. Making it to your room in one piece was the hardest part. Opening the door his hands never left your body, If anything they became more needy. His fingers roamed around your back as he began to tug at your shirt.

You grabbed his hands telling him to stop. “I don’t know...if we should do this...I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like this.” You smiled as you pushed him on the bed. Of course, she wouldn’t like her brother sleeping with her ex-best friend. But that made it more exhilarating. Satoru groaned at your words. Bringing up what you and his sister had going on at a time like this was a low blow. “Don’t fuck with me Y/n. You’ve been touching me all night. Saying little shit to me. I’m ready now, and you’re gonna act like this?” You heard the frustration in his voice, looking down at his gray sweats pants you saw what else was frustrated. You laughed at him. “Oh look who’s mad at me. I’m just trying to respect you and your sister's relationship.” Your hands go under his shirt and rub his abs. He laughed as his arm covered his face. “Ah, so I understand why she called you a conniving bitch now.” Your smug face was quickly wiped with confusion. “Oh…Yeah? She gonna think I’m more than conniving after this.” You grabbed him by his hair pulling him closer. Your lips clashed against his, you could taste the intoxication on his tongue. The kiss became sloppy fairly quickly. His hands continued to roam over your back. He followed your lead not allowing your mouth to leave his. He yanked at your shirt, he wanted to pull it off of you. Sitting on his lap, you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side. His hands went up to cup your breasts. His fingers ran over your hardened nipples, his expression was darkened with lust. “So fckin pretty.” He sat up leaving kisses on your neck and chest. You assisted him in taking off his shirt and tossed it over to yours. Leaving kisses on his neck and slowly moving downward to his chest. Taking your precious time with him. He was so impatient, whining if you didn’t kiss him. You used your finger to trace his v-line teasing him enough to push him. You got up and slowly removed his sweatpants leaving him in his tight boxers. Licking your lips at the sight, it was a delectable sight indeed. Tracing the bulging print through his Ethikas. “Oh my god…” You stuttered in disbelief, this man was packing. Satoru felt you tugging his boxers, he lifted his hips and allowed you to yank them off of him. The cold air hit him drawing out a long sigh. Those blue eyes watching you with a dangerous glint, those eyes screaming out for you. “don’t play with me Y/n.” He whispered, almost as if he was begging you to make him feel something. You seated yourself between his thighs, looking at him with awe. Your hands running up and down his hardened dick. You gave him kitten licks on his tip, licking away any pre-cum. He growled at the teasing, “C'mon.” his hand caressingyour cheeks. You smiled as you quickly put your mouth around the tip and bobbed your head up and down.

His tip hits the back of your throat every time. Satoru’s hand pushed your head down so he could feel you deep-throat him, “Fuuucckk, just like that.” You pulled your head back with an angry expression. “Nobody likes a head pusher.”, You glared at him. “Nobody likes a fucking teaser.” He mumbled. You laughed at his audacity as if he was the one in control. You slipped off your underwear and climbed on top of him. Letting him slide in slowly, inch by inch. You threw your head backward, rolling your neck. Low moans escaped your mouth as you felt his hips grinning against yours. “Go faster.” His tone completely shifted from whiny and desperate to frustration. He wanted more, He needed more. It wasn’t enough for him. You looked so pretty going up and down on him. His eyes watched your body lift itself off of him and right back down. Your nails dug holes in his chest, “That fuckin’ hurts Y/n.” He gave you a sadistic smile as he dug his nails into your hips. You shrieked in pain. You could quite literally feel his nails penetrate your skin. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t care less about anything other than cumming. Your mind became foggy and filled with a certain haze. “Mm. Keep going. Dnt stop.”, Those words left Satoru’s mouth, his thrusts were sloppy and no longer had rhythm. His fingers found their way to your clit and played with you to make sure you came before him. Your moans filled the room as you were so close. You stopped as you finally reached the bliss you been begging for, panting heavily trying to regain the breath you once had. The feeling of warm liquid filling you was a slap in the face. You soon realized you didn’t use protection. You looked down at Satoru whose eyes were closed with a smile of his face. “Oops, m’sorry i’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.” His hand gripped your ass while you sat there in disbelief. How could you fuck up this bad? You smiled as you seen him cover his face once again, “Don’t worry about it. I have some in the bathroom.”. You got off of him and made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back you saw sleeping Satoru, under your sheets wrapped around your blanket. It was a cute sight to see him so vulnerable, you were about to fuck up his life. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling him. He turned around and placed his head between your breast, his arm wrapped around your lower back pulling you close. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures. This bitch was gonna know “Fuck my man, I fuck your brother.”. You unblocked her number to send her a little treat. “When Satoru comes home tomorrow tell him I had a wonderful time. (3 attachments sent).”.

You turned off your phone and cuddled the sleeping boy, kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Mm, she's gonna fuck you up when you get home.” You whispered in his ear. His phone was soon blowing up, From his mom and sister. “I don't care, you don't know how long I've been waiting to fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet.

#gojo x y/n #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #kinktober

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hey do you think ya can explain Barnaby and his illusion smoke a bit? It seems really cool and I don't remember if ya talked about it in depth before

sure! this got a bit longer than i expected!

so i was thinking that Barnaby seems like more of a hands-off kinda guy when it comes to altercations. would rather sit back and make funny commentary! so if he Had to get involved, i imagine it would be from a distance and still in an Entertaining Way!

thus - illusion magic! for this au i've been picturing that he got his paws on some illusionary herb in his early teens. for making people laugh, you know! and help out with the farm - illusions could distract animals, convince them to move on to different pastures, calm the chickens for egg-collecting, etc!

Ms. Beagle didn't really approve, since smoking is harmful, but lucky for the both of them this particular plant doesn't deal as much damage when smoked as normal smoking materials would - like tobacco! something to do with the magic properties! so Barnaby mostly used it for chores (when his mama wasn't paying attention, ofc - it's still a bad habit in her eyes) and entertainment purposes.

how it works: on its own, it doesn't do much when burned. it's not like illusions will waft out of the pipe's bowl, or that sniffing it will give someone hallucinations. in order for it to work properly, the user has to inhale properly, form the Intent of what the illusion should be / look like / behave, then purposefully blow the smoke out with that thought firmly in mind. the reach of the smoke depends on the force of Intent, and the intensity depends on the amount inhaled. those that breathe it in / are surrounded by it will see hallucinations of whatever Barnaby - or whoever the user is - wants them to! it can be literally anything! whether or not the target is fooled depends entirely on the individual, but the herb is potent enough that most are convinced that what they "see" is real (auditory hallucinations only occur if the target breathes in the smoke)

upsides: this form of magic is great for distractions, cover, deescalation, and that kind of thing. if needed, Barnaby could stop a fight with one exhale! it's a pretty powerful trick! it also means that Barnaby has built up a tolerance to illusion magic over the years, so where most of the party would be tricked, Barnaby would be unfazed. the only one with total immunity to the form of magic is Wally!

downsides: if Barnaby uses too much in too short of a time, it will get to him. and since he breathes in the largest amount - undiluted at that - it can fuck him up! using it sparingly / using repeated small amounts doesn't do anything. the most it will do is make him feel slightly untethered, but he has an easy time ignoring it / shaking it off.

in mild cases of the magic getting to him, it's like a bad trip. his proprioception is messed with (basically he gets uncharacteristically clumsy & off-balance), he feels like he's falling, anxiety spikes, and his vision is just... off! there are blind spots (im talking actual blind spots, not spots of black), things are moving in ways that they shouldn't, he has mild auditory hallucinations. the others can help ground him by talking to him, touching him, and confirming what's real and what isn't.

in bad cases, it's like that but 10 times worse. on top of all of the previous symptoms being worsened, he gets extremely vivid hallucinations, and they're very often not fun! it's a simultaneous feeling of dying, going insane, and not knowing what the fuck is going on. Barnaby loses sense of where he is, who's where, what's happening. he can get lost in the hallucinations - he has no way to know that they aren't real. in these terrible trips, no one can really help him. they can't get through the hallucinations, and if they do, the magic morphs Barnaby's perception of them and they end up adding to the effects. honestly the best thing for him is to let him rest somewhere with as little sensory input as possible & leave him be until he starts to come down. physical contact does help, since Barnaby understands on an instinctive level that illusions can't touch him, but it doesn't help half as much as it does w/ the mild trips. and again, the presence of someone can make the hallucinations worse.

so! suffice to say! he doesn't like using the herb all that often, and it's why he Stays Out Of It unless absolutely needed. he has two pouches of the herb - one with the strong stuff, reserved for emergencies / one with just a tiny bit of it mixed in with Barnaby's own personal blend for recreational/everyday use. (he also has an emergency tobacco stash in his pack, but that's only for when he's completely out of his usual blend <3)

extra lil scribble that didn't make it into the lil doodle post... i broke his wrist...

#the undiluted one is the blue/purple/pink smoke #while the personal blend changes color depending on his mood #and the personal blend does Not cause illusions! #the herb is included in the blend for cosmetic effects - colorful smoke! - and it has calming affects #so its. yeah its rgb weed last person nailed it on the head #rambles from the bog #wh fantasy au #the other day i was thinking about howdy's first adventure with the neighborhood #and i was like 'ok situation where barnaby has to use a tad too much of the magic' #and i amused myself imagining howdy's shock and panic when barnaby - steady graceful barnaby #staggers a little. looks up at the trees/skies. goes 'oh no' and promptly stumbles and falls on his face. and then just does not get back u #he has to go get poppy to make sure he isnt hurt / also howdy would Not be able to half-drag barn back to camp on his own #that dog is dead weight and staggering all over the place - if they can even unstick his claws from where he's anchored himself #sometimes barnaby will feel the unpleasant trip Incoming and he'll just. lie down right there and then #facedown. gripping the grass like his life depends on it - and also whoever's closest #frank always leaps out of the way when barn starts to Sway bc he does not want to sacrifice his arm for a solid few hours #usually wally is the one to sit with him and happily get his arm bones squeezed into dust <3 #a common thing is barnaby will be like 'the trees/sky is melting and the ground is turning inside-out' #what does that mean! no one knows! he cant explain it when he sobers up!

[mouschiwrites]

oo that morro one HIT. thank you thank you

if you dont mind, can we get a part 2 with a premise of the day of departed lil short special?

for comfort i mean

Ofc dear!! Sorry this came out sorta long ^^”

Word count: 1.2k

Ninjago - Waiting for Your Morro

Part I here!

When Wu told you that today was all about remembering, there was no doubt that you’d come here. It was somewhere that reminded you of your old love; you spent your early years flying kites with him in this quiet meadow, and in later years he’d impress you with his wind powers by making the long grass flop this way and that.

You slowly tread through the grass, cool and soft in the night air, breathing in familiar scents of grass and wildflowers. You were used to the sky being a vibrant blue, but today it was black and speckled with stars. Still, you could remember everything vividly.

“Y/n, Y/n, are you watching?”

“I’m watching, Morro!”

“Okay, look at—that!”

“Oh wow! Did Wu teach you that?”

“Yup! My training’s going pretty well, eh?”

“Yeah… you’re gonna be a master in no time…”

The innocent dark head of hair flopped to one side quizzically, a sad look coming into those dark eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You won’t forget me when you’re all great and powerful, will you?”

“Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s you and me, forever and ever! No matter what!”

“I know, but…”

“Shh!” His hands grabbed your face, forcing your gaze up from your feet to his eyes. “When I’m the most powerful ninja, you’re going to be right there beside me. And if you’re not, I’m going to hunt you down and force you to be with me!”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you at that. “Okay then. But I’d never say no to you.”

“And I’d never let you go anyway.”

You picked a flower bud, still green as it had not bloomed yet, and twisted it between your fingers. You let out a shivering breath and tucked it behind your ear. It stung to remember, but you knew that this was what today was all about.

I refuse to forget you, Morro. Even if it hurts to remember.

You managed to dry the steady flow of tears that came from your eyes on your way back to the museum. You sniffed sharply when you realized you were the last one coming back; the other ninjas were already talking among themselves at the top of the steps.

As you hurried up to meet them, you noticed an air of trouble emulating from their serious faces and grim voices.

You were planning to ask what was wrong, but the looks they gave you when they saw you approaching silenced you before that could happen. They were first surprised to see you, then they each adopted a unique impression of awkwardness. They exchanged knowing looks and grimaced, and Kai kept glancing over behind them.

The way they were standing seemed to be shielding someone, and you guessed that whoever this person was, they were the reason that the ninjas were acting so awkward.

Jay was the first to say something. “Uh, we should be on our way, guys…”

He was met with (almost too eager) responses.

“Yup! Lots to do!”

“We’ll explain later, Y/n. See ya!”

“Bye bye now!”

“Have fun, you kids!”

That last response, which had come from Kai, caught you off guard. You turned to watch the ninjas as they scurried past you, quizzically quirking up your brow.

Suddenly it was all obvious. The final clue had come in the form of a voice, a voice you could never forget, the voice that played in your head whenever there was a second of silence.

“Y/n..?”

You whirled around, eyes huge. And there he was.

Your arms were around each other before either of you could even remember moving, and there was the sound of laughing sobs muffled in cloth as you buried your faces in each other.

“I knew—” you hiccuped, squeezing tighter, “I knew I’d see you again.”

“So did I. Nothing can keep us separated,” he mused, pulling away to give you a mischievous look. It was as if you never spent a day apart.

There was a moment of breathless silence. Morro was looking you over, his eyes shining with pure affection. “You’re beautiful.”

You smiled. “You said that before.”

“I’ll say it again. And again. And again, until the end of time. You’re beautiful,” he squeezed your hand.

You looked down at your interlocked fingers, a twinge of sadness tainting your joy.

“I waited for you, you know. Every day. Every night.”

He blinked at you; you weren’t quite sure if it was because he hadn’t expected such devotion, or if he just hadn’t expected the change in mood.

“I tried to come back. I… I wanted to see you, too.”

“Did you?” Your eyes were teary when they met his, and you looked away shamefully when you saw the same pain in his eyes.

“I did. But… there are rules. Rules that not even I can break. And you know how I like to break rules.”

You let out a weak laugh. “…I understand.”

You felt his fingers under your chin, and you were gently guided back to his gaze.

“Y/n, remember what I said? It’s you and me, forever and ever.”

You laughed again, more genuinely this time, but with tears trickling down your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything I promised to you. And I live by those promises. Well, maybe not live anymore,” he smirked, but shook his head to dismiss the little jest. “We may be in different realms, but we’re still tied to each other. And one day, that long cord that separates us will grow shorter, and you’ll be at my side again. We just have to be patient.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you gave the slightest of nods.

“I knew you’d understand… you were always the reasonable one.”

You embraced again, limbs tight around each other. You breathed unsteadily into his shoulder for a long time, trying to collect yourself before facing him again, and at the same time basking in his touch.

When you came apart again you held on to each other’s forearms, your stomachs still pressed together with your faces fervently close.

“You’ve waited for me,” Morro whispered, his dark eyes dripping with wist and admiration, “but this is the last time I can come to you.”

You closed your eyes, your head dropping. Your forehead hit his, and he continued:

“Now it’s my turn to wait for you. And don’t you rush to get to me,” he chided, pressing his forehead firmly into yours in a show of affection. “Just try to live happily, okay?”

“Okay.” The word came out in a quivering rasp that was really not much more than a whisper.

You opened your eyes, finding a profound smile on Morro’s lips that somehow caught on your own face.

You knew it was time to say goodbye, but despite this your tears chose to stop flowing at this moment.

“Hey,” Morro said, clearly as an afterthought that would be the last thing he said to you in a long time, “guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

You found yourself laughing, giving his shoulder a hardy punch as the attitude of old friends once more overtook your demeanor. “You’re an idiot.”

But just as he went to leave, you had to shout: “Hey!”

You knew that there would be no more tears; his promises put a new hope in your heart that far overpowered any sorrow you had. You knew you’d be together again someday, but now you were sure of it. And so you spoke with the voice of someone saying goodbye to a lover they’d see later that same day when you said:

“I love you too.”

Thanks so much for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies!! <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #morro #morro ninjago #morro x reader #morro wu #ninjago fanfiction

[berzahoes]

you and me | izzy stradlin

summary: no matter what axl told him, izzy could never stop loving you.

an: it’s about time i wrote something for my man izzy <3 not an exact timeline of how things actually went but hey, that’s fanfiction for ya!

warnings: axl rose that should always be a warning

the moment izzy saw you, he swore he was in love. at the time, you were both in high school. he had long hair and beat up shoes that were years old. on the other hand, you were the nicest clothes and shoes while your hair was perfectly cut and brushed. he noticed that you always wore a locket, maybe a family member had given it to you as a present.

you were known as the nicest girl in school. nobody had anything bad to say about you until a certain lead singer saw how in love his friend was with you.

“she’s a prude. why waste your time on her?”

izzy would immediately defend you. “you don’t know her. stop saying shit if you don’t know her.”

it was after your high school graduation that you and izzy began to talk. your family had thrown you a party. as you were helping your mom bring in decorations from her car, izzy just so happened to walk by since your houses were close to each other. you noticed him and waved for him to come over. he couldn’t believe that the most popular girl from high school was about to talk to him.

“hi, jeffrey.” you said in your sweet voice that izzy loved.

“you know my name?” he asked.

“well, yeah. we went to the same elementary school. remember mrs. smith? she wore those big glasses?” you said.

“i remember now and i remember you doing a project about the ocean and you said your favorite animal was a betta fish and some kid made fun of you for liking a fish.” he realized how much information he remembered. was it normal to remember all that? he probably looked like a creep—

“it still is. it’s a pretty fish.”

izzy only nodded.

“do you want to come over later? i’m having a graduation party and i would love for you to come.”

“yeah, thanks. maybe i’ll drop by. i’ve been busy with my band.”

“you’re in a band? that’s cool! what kind of music do you play?”

izzy wished he didn’t even the band, but at the same time, he wanted to share what he loved with you. “it’s just a . . band. you know, rock, we play that.”

“cool, maybe i can come see you guys perform?” you questioned.

“if you don’t mind sitting on a old couch in a garage.” he joked.

“every band starts somewhere, jeff.”

“izzy, i go by izzy.” he was nervous about what you thought about his name. did you like it? did you hate it so much that it made you not want to talk to him ever again?

“well, izzy, i still mean what i said.”

during the party, you introduced izzy to your parents. izzy thought it was a bad idea since most parents took one look at him and instantly thought he looked like trouble. but your parents weren’t that type.

“mom, dad, this is izzy. we went to the same elementary school. he graduated too.” you said as izzy shook hands with your parents.

“nice to meet you, izzy. congratulations on your graduation. any plans for your future?” your mom immediately asked.

“honey, the boy just got out of school. the last thing he wants to do is think about college,” your dad said. “our daughter says she wants to travel for a bit before she goes to college. we told her that as long as she has the money and she’s with someone we trust, she can travel as much as she can.”

then you whisper something into izzy’s ear that had both of your parents wondering. when you finished, izzy chuckled and nodded.

“he let me say this, izzy is actually in a band.” you blurted out.

“a band? that’s great. you know, i was almost in a band once. . .” your dad spoke.

and that was your cue to take izzy someplace else so you ended up in your old treehouse that your dad built. the party was still going on as you and izzy layed on the wooden floor.

“do you want to go to college?” izzy asked.

you sighed. both your parents went to college so they expected you to go as well. but all of you wanted to do was travel. you were born and raised in lafayette, the only time you went out of state was for your cousin’s wedding in georgia that you didn’t remember because you were five years old.

“I don’t know. you know how our teachers always say you have to go to college to get a good job and good money? i don’t think that. i want to go anywhere, everywhere. i don’t need a math degree or read shakespeare,” you explained. “i want to go to los angeles, i want to experience it so bad.”

“then let’s go.” izzy said casually.

“what?” you turned to him.

“let’s go to los angeles, you and me.” he repeated.

“but what about your band?” you asked.

“we were never going to make it out of the garage anyways. maybe los angeles has something for me.”

so after a few weeks, it was decided. you and izzy were going to the city of angels. when you told your parents, they were hesitant, but you reminded them of your dad’s words. they helped you pack and even gave you extra money so you wouldn’t worry.

back at izzy’s house, axl was trying to talk him out of leaving, especially with ‘the prude’ as he nicknamed you. but izzy wasn’t listening to him. he continued packing as axl listed all the reasons why it was a bad idea.

“she’s not going to survive the streets of los angeles, izzy. look at her! she’s going to break and then she’ll come back crying to mommy and daddy.” axl stated.

“she won’t because she’ll have me.” izzy replied.

“then you’re both dead.”

soon, you and izzy were on your way to los angeles. your parents had payed for your plane tickets. when the plane touched down in lax, you smiled at the feeling of being out of indiana.

“you ready?” izzy asked, grabbing your hand.

you nodded. “ready.”

1982

you and izzy now called los angeles your home. it took months of working and saving up money, but you and izzy found a nice small house in a good neighborhood. your parents often called to make sure you were okay. you would sometimes find izzy on the phone with your dad.

when you and izzy arrived to the city of angels, you immediately started looking for a job. a record store owner hired you since the store had just opened and the way only had two employees. it was definitely a dream job for you.

it was a spring break when izzy’s friend, axl, decided to join you and permanently move to los angeles.

“you’re still here?” axl asked you when he saw you walk through the door of your house. he was sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. he definitely took the phrase ‘make yourself at home’ too literally.

“yes, axl, i’m still here. this is my home.” you clarified as you walked towards your and izzy’s shared room. you dropped your purse on the floor then threw yourself on the bed. you were exhausted from work and all you wanted to do was sleep, but of course when axl rose is in your house, sleep is not an option.

“hey, you hungry?” you heard izzy ask from the doorway.

you could smell mac and cheese. “not right now, izzy. my feet hurt, i have a headache and i have the opening shift tomorrow.” you groaned.

“you have to eat something.” izzy encouraged.

“she doesn’t want to eat, let her starve i guess.” axl took the pot of mac and cheese from izzy’s hands so he could eat it.

“what is he still doing here?” you had enough and got up from your bed.

“don’t even start with me, bitch!” you heard axl yell as izzy closed the door to your bedroom.

“i’ll make him leave. he’s only here because we were rehearsing. we got a few gigs coming up. i promise he’ll be gone soon.” izzy assured you.

“he just gets in my nerves.” you sighed.

“i know. but he’ll be gone soon and you and i can continue where we left off this morning.” he started kissing you. then axl happened.

“you guys fucking in there?” he pounded his fists on the door.

“i’m going to fucking kill him.”

#izzy stradlin #izzy gnr #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin imagine #izzy stradlin fanfiction #gnr #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #band imagines

[lunels]

with dating ellie comes with…

dating ellie williams !!

♡ - decided to write this on a whim when i woke up from a short nap today. was kinda reluctant to post this cause i know there are a lottt of these out there buuuttt, this was fun 2 write. anywayyyy, enjoy < 3

with dating ellie, comes with…

her iconic and award-winning journal. that thing has documented just about everything in her life over the years annddddd before dating U she would write about you in it constantly. even b4 she realized she was crushing. just saying how cool you are and she loves being your friend. im talking before bed, having breakfast, after talking to you, after hearing you laugh. she’d draw you too. jot down little details ab you. you name it, it’s journaled. you’d come across it one day and see a few pages written about you, all smiley like awwweeee ellieeeeee, you reallly love meee and she’d be soo embarrassed, like yeah.. just a little bit.

which takes us toooo…. her episodic memory! (😱it’s true! jk.) but nah actually this girl’s memory is hit or miss. in terms of you though she remembers a lot of things…. like how you get grumbly when you’re hungry or how you prefer sitting down to wipe instead of standing up orrr how your first kiss with her was on a wednesday at 6:54pm. the weird little things you know!? other times…. information goes through one ear and out the other. you ask her what she did 10 mins ago & she’s stuck sitting there trying to recall. sometimes you wonder if you were to knock on her head if it would feel hollow or not.

her unusual appetite… i think she’s a picky eater and LOVES to eat but LOVES……. finger foods. what you would consider snacks would be breakfast lunch and dinner to her. one day you'd be in the store by the freezers & she'd dramatically gasp, ....dino fuckin nuggets? they had these the whole time?! aw man.. and she's just holding the box while reading the ingredients like its the most interesting discovery. babe do you SEE this??? did you know????? and you’re like noo… whaaattt! that’s crazyyy! knowing she won’t eat anything else & it would be her favorite hyperfixation of food til like. death. ellie is not going to dive into a 5 star meal. i mean, she would... but it's not preferred. if you’re having a date night she will happily order chicken tenders and fries with a side of ketchup. hell if she’s feeling a lil healthy that day a cup of grapes too. meanwhile you have… not that. your plate consists of five cheese ziti with a buttered and crisp breadstick on the side with garlic parmesan marinara sauce for dip idk. she'll just look at your plate like "okay! if that's what you like babe......if you like it go ahead…" while munching on a piece of chicken. you'd shrug, "least i don't eat like a toddler." the contrast in plates is horrificcc

her lowkey cocky and competitive nature. don’t get me wrong she’s default awkward and nervy but does have a bit of an ego. her vocabulary consists of alot of “yeah?”s and shit that makes you nervous but as soooonnnn as you hit back with the same energy she’s shying away and stuttering. because she’s like damn that made me feel something. uh oh. dating her would consist of a lot of races and competition over simple things….. such as seeing who could get to bed first, orrr race u to kitchen! when you two first started dating she would tell you lots of facts (still does) ab space/dinosaurs and be like “a million earth’s can fit inside the sun. did ya know that babe??” “i bet you don’t know why this dinosaur poops in pebbles…” why would you??? now it's just a regular occurrence. she’d feel so smart and brainy knowing you don’t know a thing she’s talking about. with her competitive side she’s also kinda sore loser too. you beat her in a video game, she’s moping around the entire day until you finally give in to a rematch… mumbling ab how that was just a warmup. and she hasn’t played the game in a while. yeah ok. but best believe she’s shit talking the entire time and finally boasting ab her longggg overdue win

her nerdy dorky loser side. she’s a nerd. she’s a dork. she’s a loser!! idc what u say that’s her. everyone should know this. the girl is in love with space and dinosaurs and reads comics and is technically a pro gamer. like that’s her shit. what does that say?? & the pun books?? come. on. being her gf would mean that there wouldn’t be a day that’d go by that you wouldn’t hear about a fun fact ab space or how something reminded her of a particular dinosaur that lived 19356827.9999 years ago. if you ever touch one of her collectibles or pick up those little trading cards or highly rare action figures she'd immediately run over and swat your hand away, lecturing you about how they haven't sold this character in years and she found this at a garage sale 5 years ago.... how could you- why you do such a thing??!?!? like babe… i love you… so much. but. don’t touch my shit ever again. yeah. it's that serious.

sleepless nights!!!!! she’s pretty much an insomniac. lowkey, but highkey. like, she sleeps, obviously, but she can’t sleep. which would often lead to you waking up in the middle of the night to find her re-building a jurassic park lego set orrrr playing one of her little video games. maybe jamming out to some music as she draws. (bonus if she's drawing your face cuz she can’t you outta her head) and all u hear is her humming along, music blasting out of her headphones like drrrrr dodododoo yeAhhh ooOooO or times if you can’t sleep either, the two of you would be up talking and goofing off w hushed laughs over nothing but it’s really everything to her and she just looks at you with her pretty eyes like... this person is really my whole world.

her guitar skills!!! how could i forget!!!! she plays, like a lot, and anytime you’re over that’s the one of the things she’s doing. most likely playing along to her fav band or practicing a song you suggested once. she’d always wanna play for you and show you a new trick she learned or play you a song she wrote. (bonus if it’s about you<33) if she’s sooo in love with you she’d def wanna teach you a few things:)) sometimes if you can’t sleep she’d be like babe gimme a song. any song and i’ll play it for you. and you’re likee glue song:))) then… there u go. she’d do all the little tuning stuff & you can’t help but feel mesmerized by the way her pretty hands pluck the strings or how she hums the lyrics on some parts. glancing at you every while to make sure you're still listening. she’s just sooo… *prettily sighs*

comic con. anime con. gaming con. YOU NAME IT. shes at all the cons!!!! she’s there and flourishing like a little butterfly. best believe she is dragging you to every single one (for support and comfort cause she wouldn’t ever go alone) and showing you eve-r-y-thing. everything? everything!!! she’d be genuinely excited. all smiley and jumping from place 2 place, pointing at all the characters she recognizes. like babe that's the wizard guy!!! remember him??? and then that's his buddy who’s like a thousand fuckin years old! look at him!!! never knew dude was so wrinkly in person though...yeesh. and you're like ohh… yeaahh☺️ so overwhelmed and very much confused and getting characters mixed up w others from her little rants but she's happy so you're happy n that's all that matters right? if you can't show up for some reason, her gf, who she forced to have on her arm, then jesse because he was the next person actually down to go BUT she would make him take a bunch of pics just to personally send to you. like waitwaitwait she's gotta see this—jesse where's my fucking phone?!? okay whatever just use yours. hurry up before they leave! spamming you left & right with all these attachments of her posed w her favs or pics of her at the different events there. she’d look so cute that you’re like okaaayy…. maybeeee i’ll go w her next time :)))

okay that’s it! this was rly fun to write!! i hope someone out there liked this and maybeee i'll do a prt 2 :) all loveee < 33

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams headcannons #idk if these r considered headcannons