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#Ive had enough with I just want to let this out- I sincerely just want AVP to be given more opportunities to tell their story
caesium-55 · 3 days
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—everything is orange. [ iv ]
pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader
summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.
note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.
masterlist.
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Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.
But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.
“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.
“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”
You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”
You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.
“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.
“Nice place,” he compliments.
You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.
Lando is saying things out of politeness.
Your studio is shit.
You know that.
It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.
It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.
“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”
“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.
“Ah,” your tone falls flat.
A moment's pause.
“So this is where you’ve been working?”
You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.
Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.
“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”
“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”
“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”
“That explains it.”
“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”
It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.
You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.
“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.
“Fake but okay.”
“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”
“No,” you answer.
“Should we grab something together?”
“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.
“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”
“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?
“So?”
“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.
Lando shrugs.
“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”
Your brows furrow.
“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”
“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”
“Huh?”
“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”
Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.
This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.
You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.
“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”
“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”
“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.
“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”
You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.
Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.
“We’re idiots.”
There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.
“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”
You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”
You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.
“We can eat that.”
You raise a brow.
“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”
“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.
“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.
“Tteok.”
“Tteok.”
“Bokki.”
“Bokki.”
“Tteokbokki.”
“Tteokdokki.”
You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”
“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”
You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”
“I literally said the same thing.”
“You didn't.”
“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.
“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”
You suddenly feel stupid for asking.
Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.
This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.
“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”
“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”
“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”
His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.
“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”
You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.
When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.
“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”
Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.
You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.
Maybe it's a sign to change careers.
You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.
You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.
The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.
Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.
You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.
“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.
“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”
“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”
Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.
“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”
“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”
You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.
“What's this place?” Lando questions.
“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”
“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”
“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”
“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”
You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”
You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”
“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”
You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”
“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”
You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.
Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”
“This is an ice cup,” you explain.
“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”
You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.
“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”
Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.
“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”
You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.
“Cool.”
“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”
You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.
“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”
Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.
The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.
“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”
A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”
You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.
“Is it delicious?” he asked.
“Very.”
You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.
“Oh wait, you should post something.”
“Now?”
“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”
“And delete it?”
“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”
Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.
“That one is good.”
“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”
“Blurry is an aesthetic.”
Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”
“I’m not good with them.”
“Me neither.”
“Your first caption was pretty good.”
“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.
You shrug your shoulders.
“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”
That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.
Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.
Your brows furrow.
He laughs, “I’m funny.”
“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”
“So I’m not posting it now?”
“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”
“That's very smart.”
“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.
“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”
You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.
Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”
Oh.
Yeah.
Okay. You understand it now.
“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”
You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.
“But you’re not.”
“I’m not,” you echo.
“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.
“I’m trying to be kind.”
“You don't have to try. You already are.”
“The companies make us act sometimes.”
“What?”
“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”
You shrug your shoulders.
“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”
“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.
“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.
Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.
“Hm?”
“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”
He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.
“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”
He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.
“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”
“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”
“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”
You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.
“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”
“You are,” he agrees seriously.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He smirks, confident.
“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.
“You're handsome but you're not my type.”
His smirk falters. You give a chortle.
“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.
You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”
Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.
“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”
“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”
Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.
“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.
“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.
You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.
“A few years older than me.”
When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”
By months only but still.
“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”
You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.
“Looks good in red.”
“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”
He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.
“You're not connecting anything.”
“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”
You cannot help but raise an amused brow.
“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”
His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”
You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.
You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.
“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”
You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?
“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”
His forehead creases. You nod.
He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?
Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.
You blink at each other.
“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”
“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.
“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.
The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.
Lando rolls his eyes.
“He doesn’t look that good.”
“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.
“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”
“Lies.”
“I'm not lying.”
“It's Kim Mingyu.”
“And?”
You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”
You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.
“I’m tall.”
“You’re shorter than him.”
“You're killing me here.”
You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.
“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”
“Damn right, I am.”
You snort.
“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”
When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.
“Sand?” he questions.
“Sand,” you state.
“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.
“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.
“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”
“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.
“What if someone steals them?”
It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.
“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”
“I don't even know what that is.”
“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”
The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.
“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.
“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.
“I am palli-ing!”
You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.
Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”
“Lando!” you splash him in his face.
Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.
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Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."
He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.
In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.
Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.
"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."
"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."
"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"
You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."
"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"
You shrug.
Honestly, you don't know either.
It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.
"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."
You don't want to get mobbed again.
ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.
"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."
Lando's lips form a line.
"I suppose."
"Then, I'll be there."
The song making can wait.
Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.
Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.
Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.
“How's the song coming up?”
“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”
“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”
Strongly suggesting.
Translation: commanding.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Fuck it.
He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.
You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.
Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.
Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.
To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.
“[Name]?”
“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.
“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.
“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.
“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.
“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”
“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”
Your heart warms.
“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”
“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”
“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”
The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.
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xplore-the-unknwn · 9 months
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I am so infuriated at the missed potential and opportunity for the AVP franchise!!!
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We already had Dan Trachtenberg’s Prey to show us how successful this concept can be if delivered perfectly. And now they had an animated show in production that was cancelled. AN ANIMATED SERIES COME ON!!
It would have fit so well for the AvP aesthetic and action scenes. It would also give the opportunity to expand more of their lore. Shouldn’t that be the goal? Its what the animated Clone Wars and Star Wars:Visions is doing for the Star Wars Franchise!! Do they even want to make films anymore at this point??
I am just disappointed on and on at the current decisions that Disney is doing- Shelving and cancelling shows before they even see the light of day, not giving proper environment for their writers and CGI/VFX artists to be able to create and craft a well-written story.
They’re not making films for the audience or making films for Art’s sake anymore. Its all CAPITALISM now.
I just hope with every fire in my heart that the AVPverse gets out of Disney’s greedy hands and in the hands of a Studio that would LOVE and care for its universe, respect its characters-
Give us a unique Yautja that loves art! And is amused when he sees some paintings in Paris or hears an opera house on his first hunt on Earth!
Give us an animated episode of a Yautja on a hunt for Bad Bloods during Edo Period Japan!
Show us Yautja brothers in the beginning of their training and how they learn the values of an honorable hunter!
Take us to their homeworld, give us an aspiring Yautja matriarch who is eager to learn about their culture and their history with the Xenomorphs!
I just wish someone with the power and money would give so much love to this franchise because there is so much to tell and expand!
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aluciahaz · 1 month
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may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.
Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!
once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3
oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)
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greed never stops
—vox x f!reader
—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage
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vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.
he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.
but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.
but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.
and you were the one he needed it from.
your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.
“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”
those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.
“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.
“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?
“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”
“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.
he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.
vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.
he just didn’t deserve it.
he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.
“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.
his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.
his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.
which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.
“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.
“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.
“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.
“such a good boy.”
those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.
he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.
sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.
it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.
it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.
“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.
vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.
but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.
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(i totally didnt forget to tag)
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck
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versadies · 1 year
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this time (alhaitham x gn!reader)
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SALUTATIONS. this time (part two of next time)
ADDRESSED. alhaitham (w/ gn!reader)
STAMP. in which things have never been the same since your lover found you after you’ve been kidnapped, and tries to win your heart once more as well as for your forgiveness. (this is mostly on alhaitham’s pov after saving you)
CONTENT. angst/with-comfort, slight spoilers to sumeru archon quest (3.2), mentions of kidnapping, mentions of violence, reader now has a vision and is slightly traumatized, grammar errors, ooc alhaitham (only skimmed through his lore while writing this fic)
POST-SCRIPT. yipeeee it’s finally done !! special thanks to @crowbird who sent an ask about this fic, it’s acc what i was going for as well (but ive made reader suffered enough so i didnt go all out)
LINKS. masterlist \ taglist
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How long has it been since Alhaitham has been waiting outside of Bimarstan? 
He couldn’t recall, but neither did he care about that. What he cares more is what’s happening inside the hospital where you’re currently treated.
As soon as Alhaitham’s done with his part on the mission, he didn’t waste any time to start looking for you, his heart beating faster than ever from his worries of what the Akademiya has done to you. 
Whatever they did, he hoped that you were okay. 
With the help of Cyno and some of his friends, he managed to find out that you’re located in the desert, but not in a state he had hoped he’d find you in. 
It took him two days until he finally found you in an abandoned hospital, only to see you standing in the middle of the room with a hollow look on your face, surrounded by fallen eremites and other people who are working for Azar–
Not to mention.. A vision in your hand, one that holds the symbol of anemo. 
What happened?
Alhaitham paid no mind to the unconscious bodies on the ground, his focus is on you – who remains unaware that you have other company besides your captors. 
“...( Name )?” He cautiously called out. 
You immediately turn around when you heard a familiar voice, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of your lover standing not too far away from you, his weapon in hand–
Oh gods, what have you done?
It begins to dawn on you when you realize what you just did, causing you to start breathing heavily. “I… I didn’t mean to–” You look down at your shaking hands with wide eyes, “I didn’t mean to knock them– th-they tried to take me away, to some… to some guy who goes by the Doctor and I-I was so scared, I was freaking out and, and one of them was about to hit me and suddenly everyone’s jus–” 
You find yourself falling onto your knees with a sob, the fear and anxiety you tried to hide for the past two days as you were pushed and dragged through the sand and heat slowly started to come out in the open. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” were all the words you could muster at the moment, not noticing how Alhaitham starts walking towards you.  
It was only when you felt something warm beginning to wrap around you when you realized your lover’s hugging you in a comfort embrace, causing you to let out a shaky gasp.
“I don’t care what you did to them,” Alhaitham tells you, his heart shattering at the sight of you being frightened with yourself, “I’m just glad you’re okay now. You’re safe, ( Name ).” 
He closes his eyes shut, not intending to let you go just yet. “I’m… I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for leaving you. I regretted leaving you out of the dark with what I was doing and… I just wanted to keep you safe, but it seems it only made things dangerous for you instead.” 
You couldn’t help but be taken back from how his words sounded so sincere, so genuine – you knew how your lover is with these kinds of things, so you knew just how much he means it when he apologized. 
You couldn’t help but break into tears. 
“It hurts so much…” You hiccuped, hugging him back as you sob. “I thought… I thought I did something wrong that made you–”
Your breath hitches when he holds onto you tighter. “This is never your fault. It’s mine alone for never considering how this would affect us badly. You’ve been nothing but an amazing person in my life and I took it for granted.” He said, angrier with his foolish self for making you feel this way for all this time. 
“I… When I found out that they took you, I felt like I.. I’ve...” He struggles to find the right words to tell you just how scared he was when he found out about you being held captive by the Akademiya. 
He relaxes when you start moving your arms around him. “I know..” You whispered reassuringly, as though you read his mind. “Just take me back, ‘Haitham.” 
“Mr. Alhaitham?” Alhaitham’s thoughts are cut away when he hears the familiar voice of the doctor who took charge of healing you, causing him to stand up when he sees him walking out from the door. 
“How’s ( Name )?” The scribe asks. 
“They’re doing well. They just need more food, water, and plenty of rest and they’ll be okay. Though, we need to keep them under our watch for the rest of the week to check up on their major injuries now and then.” Zakariya then let out a sigh. “I just can’t believe their captors are heartless enough to not feed them well, not to mention the injuries inflicted on them. It was fortunate enough that you’re able to find them before things could’ve gone worse for your lover.” 
Alhaitham’s heart feels broken once more when he hears about your condition, making him all the more angry that he wasn’t fast enough to find you (and the fact that Azar and his pathetic followers’ punishments aren’t enough). 
“May I visit them now?” He asks. 
The doctor nods in response. “I believe so. They were looking for you when they woke up.” 
That was enough for Alhaitham to immediately come inside the hospital (not without thanking Zakariya, of course) and visit you, bringing your favorite meal that he made beforehand as well as flowers. 
It reminded him of back when he was on his way to take you out on your first date together, with him always fixing his outfit (despite the fact that you’ve seen him wear it everyday) and checking if he has everything – as though he was a bit nervous. 
By the time he eventually arrives to where you are, you notice his presence immediately, causing you to turn away from the view of your window and look at your lover. 
The two of you stare at each other in silence, not knowing what to say. 
Alhaitham decides to break the silence. “...How are you?” 
“...Never been better, I suppose.” You respond quietly, looking down at your hands. “I mean, my lover’s finally talking to me after so long and I’m no longer blind and tied up for two days straight; not to mention how I didn’t kill anyone when I received my vision so… that’s good.” He winces from your words. 
You then look up to where he is. “I can’t… forgive you so easily for what you’ve done as much as it sounds selfish of me.” You confessed.
Alhaitham shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. I expected you to not forgive me straight away.” He says reassuringly. “All I ask is if you could give me a chance to make everything up. Let me make up for the time we lost.”
You frowned. “Then what? Will you suddenly get busy again and ignore me for the next few months? A year maybe?”
“I won’t repeat what happened last time.” He said. “Not when it almost cost me to lose you.” 
Your eyes soften. “I’m too scared to take the risk and experience the same thing all over again.” Deep down, you were touched when you heard from your nurse that your lover did everything he could to find you and get you back, as well as how he waited for a long long time until he was allowed to come inside the hospital and see you again – without reading a book even. 
But you knew that you can’t just let what he did slide so easily. 
“Trust me. Just one last time.” Alhaitham asks, almost in a desperate way. “If I mess up again, and I’ll make sure I won’t, then you can leave me.” He wanted to come closer to you, to sit down on the edge of the bed and place his hands on your wrapped hands in a reassuring way, but he didn’t want to overstep your boundaries. “If you still want to leave me without a chance, then that’s alright.”
You quietly think about what to do. As much as you’re heartbroken that your lover had ignored you for such a long time, you still unfortunately love that man, but you can’t forgive him just yet. 
You let out a sigh. “I’ll give you one month to make it all up to me, then I’ll decide if I leave.” You said, causing his shoulders to relax. 
“I won’t let you down, ( Name ).” He declares with confidence. 
You smile lightly, now noticing the things he’s been holding throughout the whole conversation. “You do know that giving me my favorite food and my favorite flowers today isn’t enough to make me forgive you, right?” 
Alhaitham hums. “I’m aware. I’m guessing that the hospital didn’t give you any food that you’re craving, so I thought about making it for you before I visit.” 
You know he was right, although the hospital did give you food to eat, it didn’t match the sweet taste of the ones you’ve been longing to eat, such as the foods that your lover always cooks for you whenever he can just for you. 
“Pretty sure they cooked better than you though.” You joked. 
His lips slightly move upward. “Oh? Won’t you try and see if you’re right then?” 
You scoot over a little, a small invitation for him to finally come up to you. “Only if you hand-feed me.” You said, thinking he’d refuse and make you eat it yourself.
To your surprise however, you underestimated just how much that man loves you. 
“If that’s what you wish then.” Without hesitation, he instantly comes up to your bed and sits down next to you, putting your flowers next to your bed and unpacked your meal (you didn’t bother to point out how he looked so eager to do so). 
As you eat your meal that he made, you can’t help but reminisce about the times when he used to do this to you. Particularly when you get sick and he has to take care of you, something that he always reassures you that he’s completely okay with it and willing to do it as long as it’s for you. 
“I’ll have to cook meals for you everyday then if it makes you that happy.” He suddenly says as he feeds you, making you realize that you’ve been smiling the entire time. “What do you say about curry shrimp tomorrow when I visit here?” 
“You’re going to visit here again?” You ask in a surprised tone. “Don’t you have things to do with the Akademiya?” 
“Even in different situations, I’d still put everything down just to take care of you.” Alhaitham explains. “Don’t worry about my duties in the Akademiya, I’m sure they’ll be doing alright without my presence for a while.” 
You hummed. “Alright then.” 
Alhaitham is one dedicated man, you’d admit. 
Everyday, he’d always come and visit you with a meal in hand, as well as things that could make you no longer be bored from lying down on the hospital bed all day. On some days, the two of you would play TCG (with Cyno, Kaveh and Tighnari whenever they visit you), read books together silently, listen to music together with his music player that he personally made when he first became the scribe, and even take a stroll around the street together. 
You’re still reluctant with his company, but nevertheless, you didn’t feel uncomfortable from it. 
Of course, there were other things you’d do whenever Alhaitham is away. Sometimes you’d be found helping the doctors and nurses taking care of the patients, taking care of all the flowers he gifted you, and so on. 
Your injuries were slowly getting better, much to everyone’s relief, and you were no longer as shaken up as before from the incident that happened on the day Alhaitham found you.
Not that he asked you about it. Now that you think about it, not a single person dared to ask what happened to you during your kidnapping, nor did anyone ask how you got your anemo vision, excluding some clueless people who were unaware of what happened to you. 
Cyno did a good job in making sure that it looked like the eremites and Azar’s subordinates were ambushed by him and Alhaitham and not you, not wanting you to get in trouble for simply defending yourself from your captors. You’re grateful that he never questioned you about what happened.
It was hard to get used to the vision that reminded you of what happened, but with your friends’ help, you managed to slowly live with it as well as learn how to use it to protect yourself better. 
By the time you were released from the hospital, you’re surprised that Alhaitham’s still continuing to do the same thing he’s been doing for the past week. 
During your meals, it was Alhaitham who’s been doing the cooking instead of you, with Kaveh whining about why he doesn’t get the same treatment. He also made sure to always kiss you goodbye before he sets off to tend to his duties in the Akademiya, something that you missed for so long. 
For someone who has an unpredictable schedule, he always makes sure to make time for you, for what is freedom if he can’t enjoy it without you?
Slowly and surely, you begin to forgive him and find yourself smiling every now and then.
Sure, he’d sometimes come back home late, but it was never like last time. Sure, he’d sometimes be too focused on his work in his office, but it was never like last time. Unlike last time, you finally feel like you’re living with a lover and not a stranger. 
Whenever you could, the two of you would go out in the woods and train your skills with your vision, something you’re grateful for since using a vision isn’t as easy as you thought it would be. 
The kidnapping still haunted you with nightmares that made you lose sleep as well as some things that reminded you of it, but with Alhaitham, you feel less scared and more comforted from him, who always made sure to stay by your side and be with you when you needed it. 
He’s more considerate than before, you’d admit.
Of course, you made sure to show your gratitude by visiting Alhaitham in his office in the Akademiya like you usually did before, secretly surprised with how he’s always found in his office despite the fact that he’s usually everywhere but there (it’s as if he’s been anticipating you to visit him), and give him a meal that you made before going your way to the Grand Bazaar. 
Until one day, Alhaitham requested you something. 
“When you come and visit me at the Akademiya…” You slowly waited for him to tell you to not come there, only for your eyes to widen at his next words. “...Do make sure to bring two meals so we can eat together.”
You processed what he just said to you. “You mean… eat our meals together? You and me?”
He nodded in response, looking as though he’s unbothered with what he said. “Who else if not you?”
You try to hide your smile before obliging his request. “I’ll keep it in mind then.”
Since then, you find yourself eating your meal with your lover whenever you come and visit. 
You never dared to point out how his lunchbox is always clean and empty whenever he’s done with it.
Sometimes if time allows it, he’d also visit the Grand Bazaar to watch you perform on stage with Nilou, who’s shocked to see the scribe himself – especially with a fascinated look on his face as he watches you perform.
After your performance, Nilou couldn’t help but carefully ask him about his presence in a place such as the Grand Bazaar. 
The man could only huff. “Am I not allowed to support my lover?” He comments. “Don’t mind my presence and go enjoy what you love just like what I’m doing right now.” 
“Watching your lover?” She questioned quietly, looking back at where you are, who’s currently helping one of your colleagues with another task. “You must really love ( Name ), huh?” 
“Not just love.” He clarifies, crossing his arms. “They’re my freedom and eternal oasis.” 
Nilou feels touched by the scribe’s words. She could see now why you’re so willing to give him another chance. 
“( Name ) feels the same way, if you’re wondering.” She said with a soft smile. “I hope you’ll continue to make them happy like they are now. It’s been so long since the Grand Bazaar’s last seen ( Name ) being this happy.”  
“I’ll make sure of that.” Alhaitham assures the woman, his eyes softening at the sounds of you laughing at whatever your colleague told you. “I’ll make sure they’ll be happy, even if we’re no longer together like now.” 
Even when you’re still hesitant to forgive him in fear that it’ll happen again, Alhaitham is willing to wait for you and prove to you that he won’t do the same thing ever again no matter how long it takes.
Just like how you waited for him to come home when he was nothing but distant, he’s willing to wait for you the same way.
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PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @astrequa @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing @shaiah @aintafraidtolove
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kittyamore0 · 1 year
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Hi this is my first time requesting something😭 I was wondering if u could write a Dom Brahms smut x sub female reader? (I love your writing btw)
-🌹
Our first time
Thank you!
Summary: Not much, just you and Brahms </3
Little note: sorry for the delay, ive been on and off with this one-shot, but now its finally ready!
genre: NSFW one-shot
Fandom: Horror
Character: Brahms Heelshire
Cw: Female! Sub! reader, Dom! Brahms, table sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, p in v, doggy style sex position, Brahms ruining you, blind fold usage, lost of virginity, slight begging kink, fingering, Lactation kink, dumbification kink, slight sadistic Brahms...just sex.
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He stared attentively at you through that slightly, polished, cracked porcelain doll mask. You were currently washing the dishes and getting dinner ready with loud music playing.
You were unaware of his presence, due to how loud the music played. You stood there, swaying your hips to the beat, as he stood in the door way and his eyes roam up and down your body
It made him feel warm, hot even. His breathing becoming more uneven. His heart rapidly slamming against his chest.
You turned around to place the wet dish back into its holder. You yelped and jumped backwards when your eyes landed on Brahms first rather than the dish rack. "Jesus Christ! You scared me Brahms!"
His head cocked to the left of him and he mumbled out a quick 'sorry' You placed a hand over your heart and put the plate in the dish rack. "Is there something you need, Brahms?" He stopped for a minute, looking like he wanted to say something, but didn't when he slowly shook his head.
You raised a brow at his actions. "Alright then.." You went back to scrubbing the dishes, careful not to get the water further than your purple gloves.
Brahms legs unconsciously move towards your enticing figure. His arms wrapping around your waist the moment he gets close enough to.
"Brahms?" He hummed in your hair. The way his name left your lips in a soft whisper made him feel uneven. The way you were up against him, your curves aligning with his...It was like a puzzle piece.
You and him were made for each other, and that was all he could think about.
What if...you and him did those kinds of intimate things he would see in books?
Oh, those pretty noises that would come out of your swollen lips. Your soft begs for him to keep going or maybe even to stop.
"Brahmsies, is everything okay?" He nodded, but you didn't believe him. You turned around, his arms slipping loose.
You were just in front of the dinning table before his arms slipped around you again, the grip even more tighter than before.
"Stay." You shuddered at his unmasked voice. It wasn't as childish as it usually would be, it was much more deeper and low now. "It hurts..." His whine made you panic slightly. Did he hurt himself? what happened?
"Brahmsies, did you hurt yourself? where does it hurt?" He just looked down, a bit embarrassed.
You sighed and stared into his dilated eyes. "Kiss," ah, his child voice was back. "It hurts with the mask on, Brahms." His grip had gotten tighter, making you let out a soft gasp.
He let out a scowl. "Stay here." You meekly nodded and he harshly ran past you. The air blowing on the side of your shoulder.
The music had stopped playing, sending shivers down your spine, only hearing the echoing silence of the Heelshire manor.
A few minutes passed and you heard the squeaks and squeals of the hard, wooden floors.
You felt his body behind yours and suddenly, your vision went black, covered by a soft fabric. "B-Brahms?"
He placed his index finger over your soft lips. You could hear a 'click' and then you heard him place that glassy, polished mask down.
A harsh grip on your chin made your head turn to your right in a swift movement.
You felt chapped, peeled lips on yours. A mix of soft and warm with peeled, cold lips.
The kiss was eager and hungry, but gentle and sincere at the same time.
His head tilted, to aline his flawed lips with your perfect ones. You felt his teeth tug at your bottom lips, as if asking for access.
You sighed into his lips and kept your lips agape for his tongue to slip in, and it did.
His tongue slid at the roof of your mouth, keeping yours trapped and pushed back.
Your lips grew swollen and your lungs begged for some air. Eventually, you broke the kiss in a haze.
"Pretty [Name...]" He murmured against your lips. Your throat was dry, despite the kissing. You stammered your words, unable to form a clear sentence. You could not take compliments.
"O-oh, um--" it didn't help either when you felt his lips hover over your tender neck. You felt his teeth get a slight grip on your neck.
You shuddered, feeling Brahms lips twitch into a smile at your reaction.
A breathless moan escaped your lips when his teeth had sunk into your warm skin, his tongue grazing against your irritated skin.
Your body had felt warm and felt warmer by the second. "Brahms..." He had never really paid attention to why or how you said his name, but now? Now was different. He loved how his name rolled off your tongue, along with a whine. It enticed him, making his heart filled with a certain...need.
Dark hues formed on your neck. A way for you and others to know that you belong to him and only him.
The thought of more marks covering your bare body in other places made his cock throb.
His right hand traveled up your body and one of his fingers held onto the bra strap. His left hand traveled down and hooked around the hem of your panties. "please...please, please, please..." He mutters, his pleas causing your heart to beat faster, as if it were about to burst.
You had never gotten very intimate with your past partners, leaving you a virgin, since you figured they weren't the right ones. But with Brahms, it was...different.
You weakly nodded. His breath hitched in his throat. He wasn't too experienced himself when it came to sexual pleasure, but he had read about it, and he was willing to try and do whatever it takes to make you feel good.
He slipped his fingers in the soft fabric, pushing it down and away slightly. His digits grazed over your soaking cunt. Your mouth hangs open when his right hand kneads your breast. His forefinger and thumb working together on pinching your hardened nipple.
Your legs twitched and your hips jolted when he drew soft, slow circles into your clit. "Brahms--" Before you could finish your sentence, Brahms pushed one of his fingers inside your beating entrance. A loud mewl spilling from your quivering lips. Your walls stretching, trying to adjust the new feeling.
He sighed at the feeling of you clenching around his finger, and that only made him wonder, what would happen if he added more?
With barely enough time to react, hes slipped two more of his rough, dry fingers into you. "oh, fuck!--" Your hips buckled down for more friction.
His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling for just a second, which really felt like more than a second, to hit your G-spot.
Your mind clouded with the touch of Brahms fingers, which was currently used to fuck you. Your pre-cum coating his rather tall, rough, vein-y fingers.
Your nails could break from how hard they dug into the marble table. His relentless pumping only drove faster. "So, so warm..." He pushed his palm further into your sex. He loved the feeling of your wet, warm puffed out cunt against his hands. Every noise you make, every whine, whimper, moan, mewl, cry, okay, you get the point. It drove him crazy. He wanted to hear more and more than before, many more. His cock oozing with pre-cum with every noise that came out of your swollen lips. Unconsciously, he began to grind against you. His clothed tip almost hitting your clit.
He wanted to be inside of you, like how those books would describe when things got intimate between the Male and Female.
The thought of it made his finger drive faster into you. "W--wait, t--too much!--- " Your throat involved a gag when his right hand fingers were shoved down your throat, taking them in a chocked manner.
You barely had any time to react to his lewd actions, as he didn't care to be gentle with you anymore. Tears pricked into your eyes, the soft, black blind fold quick to absorb your warm, salty tears.
Your desperate cries for him to slow down were muffled, the words not getting too far away from his now vibrating fingers. "So pretty..." He shoved his fingers deeper into your throat, hitting your gag reflex many times. "Bra--hghn...I---can't!--" A low chuckle erupted from his throat and his teeth drove straight into your beaten up neck. "Plea--ah!--s--slow down...s'too much...! can't--can't!-- " Your teeth gripped onto your lower lip. The way your teeth molded into your lower lip harshly had enough power to break the delicate skin and draw blood.
"More...More!" He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. More whines spew out of your mouth. Your uncomprehended babbles continued on and on. Your walls tightened around his fingers. An unfamiliar knot building up in your lower abdomen. The feeling even edges him on. His pants being ruined and coated with his pre-cum.
"I--hah!--gonna--gonna!--" You loudly gasp, feeling the knot untie itself. You let out a whine and press your forehead against the marble table. His fingers help you ride out your high, coaxing it in your cum.
His finger exits out of your entrance and he brings them up to his mouth, sucking his cum-layered finger. Every covered finger with slide in and out with a pop.
His tongue swirled in his mouth, savoring your sweet taste. Oh, how he just could imagine how many more times hes about to make you cum, whimper, wine, moan, cry, beg and so much more. He wants all of it. It has to be you, and only you.
Your upper body heaved up and down. Brahms eyes glued onto your breast. His head dipped down and leveled with your chest. His mouth took one of your nipples in, his tongue swirling around the erratic nipple.
You whined and laid against him, too tired to do or say anything. He placed a few kisses on it. It made him feel nursed, but instead he's taking control.
Your stomach turned and twisted when he let his imperfect lips trail down your stomach. His hand was removed from your mouth, and you heard the flyer to his pants zip down. "W--wait!--" Your plea was cut off with his scowl. You were still recovering from your sweet release, but that only made him go further. If you had cum once already, why not another time? He was already craving to see his cock slamming in and out of you cruelly, his cum filling you up till' it dripped down your perfect body and onto your plush thighs.
He ignored your cries and gripped both his jeans and boxers down. Even more tears formed into your eyes, trying to tell him to give you a minute to process everything and calm down. His cock roamed free out of those suffocating jeans. Hes thick and throbbing with pre-cum, but not like you can see that.
The thought of him entering inside you while you wore a dark blindfold made you shiver, and as if he had read your thoughts, you felt his needy cock forcing its way through your wet, slick folds, finding its way inside your cunt.
The slow pain was all you could focus on, as Brahms was stretching you out quite a bit too much. "Ah!--Fuck, fuck!--mfmg!--" You grunted. Your sex trying to adjust Brahms, and there was much more to go.
Brahms breathing became ragged, hitched and inhumanly fast. "Tight, you're so...tight!--" He shudders, thinking about the way you wrapped around him. oh, you just felt too good.
"So--t--tight--" He whimpered, his focus all on you. The feeling was new to the both of you, which made the pain unbearable.
You felt yourself being stretched even more than what had seemed possible. The pain slowly turns into still, unbearable pleasure. Brahms lets out a shuddered moan when you've taken him whole. His hips jolted forward, each second mercilessly pounding into you. Countless mewls come out of your lips. The inhumane speed of his thrust fastens your panting, enough that hes fucking you dumb at this point.
"You...li--like this?" You sniffled, trying to respond with a mind clouded with pleasure. "Ngn...y--ah!--" You began babbling out nonsense. Your walls tighten around his length.
His unused hand gripped your jaw, turning your face towards his. His head cocked to the side. The sight of your teeth jabbing at your lower lip, your furrowed brows, you looked so...vulnerable, and he liked the sight of that. He liked the sight of you submitting to him, like you should, like you were meant to.
You whine as a familiar sensation builds up once again, in your core. The same knot that tied in your lower abdomen earlier. "cu-cumming, cumming!--" His hips collided with yours, going even more faster. You squeeze yourself around Brahms cock, his quite huge member going in and out as it pleases.
"Cum-cum for me!--" Brahms groaned, stuffing his face into your hair. On command, you let yourself come undone. Your cum covering his cock. He stops his fast pace and goes slow, wanting to remember this moment. Your expression when you came, your cum covering him.
He places a soft, tender kiss on your temple, before proceeding to his rough pace. "Bra--hms!, no--no more, ple--ase! Can't...Can't--No...more!--" Your begging only enticed him to keep going, he like how your tears stained the blind fold, even rolling down past the blindfold. Your pleas made it harder for him to stop.
Not only that, but you had cum twice already. It should be his turn now, and he's going to make sure he's gotten to feel what you had felt, his release. His cum filling you up. That's what he wanted.
He smiles as he continues slamming himself in and out of you, sending you into overstimulation. You laid your head against the marble table once again, letting your chocked sobs take over your words.
His lower abdomen twisted and turned, feeling a harsh but pleasant upcoming tension that begged to be taken care of. He dug his mouth in your neck, biting the skin, once again. You cried out when he had bitten you roughly, the pain hurting more than those shots you get at the doctors. "Almo-almost...there!--" His cock twitched inside of you, as he let himself unravel inside you. His cum painting your tired walls.
His cum dripping down your cunt, and onto your thigh. He stared down and admired the sight. He whined when he slowly removed himself from you, already wanting to continue being in you.
You sighed, and allowed yourself to catch a breath. Then, your body was being picked up from the waist. You were turned around and seated down on the cold table.
Brahms placed his head to your slightly-exposed chest, while his hands remained on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his forehead tenderly.
You let out a pleased hum, before closing your eyes and resting your head against his.
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runby2 · 4 months
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hi it's the creator of horse plinko and other huge posts on this site.
i wanted to make a quick post on here, not to keep everyone updated on my life, because i'm going to keep staying far away from social media, but to let everyone know that if you feel like you are endlessly changing yourself to fit your following's perfect standards, you are not actually getting better as a person. why do i say this? growing up, i had a horrible childhood and it was hard to grasp a sense of self, so the internet was a good escape. i made posts about current topics, tried to get a lot of notes, and when i got those notes i felt like my life had a purpose. i didn't let myself ever find out who i truly was because early on i was so obsessed with being the perfect persona on the internet and avoiding home life, that i had literally linked my life cable to the internet. i was the living definition of chronically online. i was so young too, so i saw a bright future ahead of myself. "it can only go up from here." 3 years of complete isolation happened after my 18 years in a cult, and recovering from mental institutional abuse. and i went by juicedoesthings. and i fought with every part of myself, ignoring my DID and even having alters post inspirational paragraphs about why DID is 'something i know i don't have because ___'- some you can probably still find on this blog buried deep somewhere - i was lost in a cycle of amnesia and perfectionism to the point ALL of my identities were juicedoesthings, and we were all the same, and if one of us stepped out of line, we'd shun it. we couldn't risk being problematic. we couldn't risk everything we've worked up to be crumble. because that was all we were. don't make your identity a username. don't keep track of what is and is not acceptable at the current time in a fandom of any sort. don't curate your art just because a discourse blog reblogged it for clout. don't overthink some personal statement you made just because thirty people sent you personalized death threats. don't forget about nuance, and in the most sincere way i can communicate this, touch grass. and find out what comforts you. learn what makes you happy, not what can improve you. this post will probably be drowned under reblogs as my life goes on and i occasionally check back into this ghost town of what used to be my only identity. but tumblr fame has irreversibly damaged me, and how i perceive myself. it took so long for me to feel like it was okay to make mistakes. if the above sounds like you, i desperately urge you to find a way out of that cycle. don't chase fame online. anonymity can definitely get you where you want to be safely. over my years on here ive seen children adults and teens ask how to make a webcomic, how i got this many followers, how i became "me". i was conforming. i became perfect for the internet, but i didn't have any sense of self. don't be like me. don't become me. just create, and disconnect yourself from who you think you need to be in order to be enough.
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kiibichio · 2 months
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PLAY DATE 2. 𐙚 ❤︎ M. STURNIOLO
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OVERVIEW ;; you and matt get into a heated argument over your ‘friends with benefits’ deal, how will it end ?? (good ending i promise)
CONTAINS ;; angst, fluff, good ending !! (that’s it?)
momo speaks ;; PART TWO OF THISSS. this was so fun to writeee. I HOPE U GUYS REALLY LIKED IT BC I WORKED HARDD MAN I WAS BREAKING A SWEAT OVER HERE (but kinda rushed). enjoy !! (PART ONE HERE <33)
date published ;; 02.20.24
not proofread !!
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6:49 pm.
“are you serious? you just told me you ‘missed me so much’, but you’re letting me leave just like that? am i just some sort of play date to you?” i ask, sitting up. anger, sadness and confusion written all over my face.
maybe i shouldn’t have said that.
matt goes silent for a while, then speaks up.
“you do realize that when we started this we both mutually agreed to have no feelings right?” he says, trying to keep his cool
“well- i mean yeah, but-” i try to speak
“then what makes you think i want to be something more?” he cuts me off. he stands up and starts to get dressed.
“matt. good fucking god, i mean you just have sex with me that damn near kick me out?”
tears start filling my eyes. shit.
“yeah!” he exclaims sarcastically “i do because when we established this, i told you i didnt want a fucking relationship. we’re just friends that just so happen to fuck.” matt raises his voice at me.
then the water works break. goddammit.
i wipe my eyes before speaking up, “okay then… if that’s how you want it to be, then we can end this shit right fucking now. im not gonna allow myself to be used like some damn sex toy.”
“wait.. y/n- c’mon i didn’t mean it like that.” matt tries to explain, regretting what he had just said.
“oh no. i fully understand what you meant,” i reply, now getting dressed.
“fuck..” he mumbles under his breath, but still loud enough for me to hear.
“that’s all you have to say?” i stand up after putting my shoes on, crossing my arms in front of the bedroom door.
matt goes silent.
“oh, what? we’re mute now? real cute.” i ask sarcastically before storming out the room. he follows behind me, trying to explain himself with ‘y/n this!’ and ‘y/n that!’ but i easily tune him out.
as i reach the front door, it starts to open.
it’s just chris and nick, i give a small wave and quickly pass by them and start walking to my house.
ill be damned if i ever let somebody treat me like this shit again.
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an hour later, i get a knock on my door. dear lord, who is it now? i walk over to the front door and open it.
matt’s on the other side.
“hey.. forgot your phone…” he says sheepishly, handing it over to me.
“mhm. thanks.” i answer. i start to close the door before he pushes it open again.
“can i… come in?” he asks
“why? so you can screw me over again? no thanks.”
“y/n. im serious. please?”
i can tell he’s serious, but im still hesitant.
i sigh and open the door wider to let him enter.
he makes his way to the couch, while i lock the door and follow behind him, but sitting on the opposite side of him.
there’s a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
“just gonna sit there?”
he lets out a deep breath, “listen, i’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. i didn’t take your feelings into consideration and i clearly wasn’t thinking in that moment.” matt explains sincerely.
“i accept your apology. and i understand, but now that my secrets out, we cant keep doing this. it’s just- not.. right.” i shake my head
“that’s another thing i wanted to talk about. it’s not that i don’t like you.. i do- it’s just…” he sighs
“what, matt? you can talk to me. we’re still friends.” i speak. i move closer to him and put my hand on top of his.
“ive been extremely busy lately. flying back and forth, videos, podcasts, everything. its just a lot to handle and im not sure im ready for commitment. so its not a no.. its just a ‘not now.’” he looks at me.
after he said that, i felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders. i needed that sense of reassurance. but now i feel like the asshole. i should’ve thought about him too.
“that’s perfectly fine, matt. i can handle that.” i start to smile, “ill wait for you, matt. take as much time as you need.”
he hugs me and i can feel his face growing into a soft smile against my shoulder.
“thank you, y/n.”
4 months later ;;
“matt! baby, i missed you so much!!” i say, leaping in his arms as he walks out into the airport parking lot towards my car. i attack him with kisses all over his face and hug him just a bit too tight.
“too tight, my love.” he says almost out of breath.
“it’s not my fault, this is the first time you’ve ever left me like this! i just really, really missed you.” i exclaim, letting go of him.
“you’re so extra.” he chuckles
okay that first part was a partial lie, but it really is the first time he’s gone back to boston without his girlfriend of 2 months!
“can you two get a room? good fucking god.” nick says disgusted, chris nodding his head and agreeing with his brother.
me and matt both shoot them the middle finger and continue walking to the car.
he grabs my hand, “i missed you too, though baby. i was thinking about you the whole time. and…” he continues to tell me how much he had missed me and loves me.
best boyfriend ever.
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momo speaks (again) ;; ugh this was really rushed im sorry if it sucks 😭😭 BUT I GOT IT DONE. love you guys <3 hope you enjoyed !! TOODLES xx
tag list ;; @sturniolos-blog @mayhem-72 @hearts4chris 🍵
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stxrvel · 4 months
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something #1
guys, i know ive disappeared and im so sorry:(. ive been having trouble getting inspiration to write, bc there are a lot of things going on in my life right now that really demotivate me, butt today i was able to write this out of the blue and wanted to share it with you guys! so i hope you like this, whatever this is going to be a part of, and hope to see u soon! <3
warnings: an unfriendly and unlikeable reader thats most likely to anger you, bad words and lots of hate, friends to enemies to ?????? 1k words
“Are you supposed to be here at this hour?”
Y/N moved away from the locker where she had stowed her things that morning, blowing the strands of hair that had been left out of her hasty ponytail.
“Are you supposed to be my mom?”
James Barnes, from across the room, scowled at her. Y/N returned the gesture, watching him out of the corner of her eye move to the other end of her position to do God knows what.
It had been at least noon since they had returned from the mission and Y/N hadn't dared cross the shower area near the Complex hangar just to avoid that interaction with Barnes. The weights in the gym, the treadmill and all the objects she could hit were more appealing to her than having an ordinary conversation with another human being.
That's why she had waited hours to go back for her things, some clothes and items she usually left in that area to use after missions, but just that day they weren't needed because the frustration was bigger and the anger was eating her alive.
Especially the anger she felt against Barnes in those moments.
“And can you stop taking over the gym? There are recruits who have to train, but you scare them away with that dead face,” Barnes spoke again with his back to her, and Y/N had to resist the physical urge to throw the thermos in her hands at him.
“It's not my fault you train wimps.”
“They're not wimps,” Barnes turned away, sincerely offended. “You actively yell at them to go away.”
“They're my training hours, what do you want me to do? Be kind and let them pass?”
Barnes averted his gaze, slamming his locker with his black backpack over his shoulder, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe he was having this discussion with her.
“Is it even healthy for you to train so many hours in a row?”
Y/N pushed the small locker door as well, the sound of the impact silencing any thoughts of the two of them in the room. “Why the fuck do you care?”
“God,” Barnes raised his head, his face regretful that he'd prompted the conversation in the first place when he could have let it die. “You're impossible to talk to.”
“Then don't fucking do it.”
Their gazes met, each at either end of the room, Y/N closer to steaming out the door.
“You should've stayed with your fucking recruits instead of coming to shit all over my mission,” she couldn't help but spit out what had been rattling around in her head for hours, completely ignoring the grimace beginning to form on Barnes' face and grabbing the doorknob to get out of that cramped space as quickly as possible.
The led lights in the hallway blinded her for a moment, walking in a straight line down the path she already knew by heart to the rooms. Not all Avengers lived in the Complex, but Y/N preferred that to having to constantly run into Barnes in the Tower.
“Hey!” she heard the voice of the aforementioned, but only quickened her pace noticing the hurried pace his own were taking. “Is this all about the mission?”
Y/N stopped her steps in the middle of the hallway, near the stairs, where some agents were walking with dozens of papers in their hands and watching them out of the corner of their eyes. They already knew the routine. They all knew it.
“What, you think that's not enough?”
She turned, with that impossible-to-read expression they'd all grown accustomed to by now. She knew Barnes wanted to believe he could still read through her mask, but he could try to convince himself with fake words all he wanted, because that would never be the case again.
“It was mission impossible, Y/N. Steve agreed,” Barnes paused in front of her, barely casting a vague glance at the people passing them by. His right hand held the strap of the black suitcase so tightly that his veins bulged. Y/N barely snorted at his words.
“Just because you beat me by a majority doesn't mean you're right.”
“So the right thing to do was to go into the lion's den?”
“The right thing was to finish what we went to do, Barnes.”
“The right thing was to get out alive,” he determined, raising his voice. Y/N noticed his eyes red from the closeness they had adopted in the face of the heated discussion, and the faint thought crossed her mind that Barnes wasn't really doing anything productive to have run into her at that precise moment in the gym. She almost broke her expression to slap him.
“If you had followed my plan to the letter, we would've gotten that thing and gotten out alive. Do you really have a hard time accepting that my plan was a good one?”
“I have a hard time believing we would have made it out alive. There were too many of them. You saw them!”
“You know what? It makes sense that you have a bunch of stupid recruits. Like father, like son,” Y/N knew she was touching on a sore point, because one thing Barnes prided himself most on was having his own team look up to him as a role model after all he'd been through, but she'd stopped caring about such things quite some time ago.
“Y/N…” Barnes lowered his voice, taking a deep breath and looking at her through his eyelashes.
“If you show them your way, they're not going to survive a day in the field.”
“That's what you think.”
“That's what I know, because this job is who I am. Stop living like you're made of glass,” she looked him up and down one last time, his face contracting in an emotion she wouldn't allow herself to feel anymore. The memories that surfaced that melancholy face almost made her vomit in the middle of the hallway.
Maybe there was a time when Y/N thought she could have a good friendship with him; a time when he would've thought she could become a good friend. But none of those moments lasted long, rushing away like a shooting star, disappearing into space like smoke.
“We made the right decision,” Barnes wasn't going to budge and he was going to have the last word and she knew it because she just knew him so well. She almost laughed in his face at how predictable he had become. Emotions really did make people weak, and in this job that was a very big danger.
“Keep convincing yourself of that and you're going to end up dead.”
Y/N paced before Barnes could answer her, a bitter feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She knew he would follow her with his eyes so she tried to pick up her pace without looking too much like she was trying to flee from his sight. It was torture to be around him after all.
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sillyyuserr · 2 months
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Why the “betrayal” in chapter 108 is so interesting to me (spoilers for chapter 108 + 110)
Another short terukane analysis, if you can even call it that. Posting at midnight again :3
So this section is started when the big clock is stopped, and akane + teru head to no. 1’s boundary to see whats going on. They see hanako frozen, bully him, yadayadayada not important
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Very very shortly after they get into the boundary, akane is approached by an owl. More specifically a “messenger”, which we can assume was sent by kako or mirai or some other clock keeper person.
the owl flies up to akane, lands on his arm, and tells him something. This “something” seems to shock akane. Well, less of shock factor more of unwant.
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He clearly does not want to comply with what the owl is asking of him/ordering him to do, but again, akane will complain, but when it comes down to it, he’ll do It. He seems somewhat distressed, but when teru is in frame with him his anxious expression disappears and is replaces with that of a content/not particularly happy nor sad nor anything face.
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Then we see him start to talk about the clock to teru, and mention something he needs to “ammend”.
Then, this godforsaken panel comes next
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Now that you understand whats going on i can break it down. we can generally assume this owl told him “stamp him for the trial” or smthn like that, but why would he be so distressed and uncomfortable with doing this?
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He visibly wants to fight back. He really really doesn’t wanna do this. But why? Maybe he doesn’t wanna lose teru’s trust again, maybe he just doesn’t wanna go through with the trial, but no matter what he wants, he goes through with it
if you know teru’s character, like really know his character, you’d know trust is like a big thing for this dude. And he trusts him completely. He trusts him in the place where his supernatural abilities are at their strongest. Akane told him to follow the bird, and he did it without question. Putting his back to him while they walked together, being extremely vulnerable in a place where akane (a supernatural aka his literal born enemy) is at his most powerful
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We cant see his face, so we dont know what he’s thinking, but quickly akane steps forward, and hits him with the mallet, and this panel is born
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This, along with the next two or three panels have alot so lets break these down even further.
for starters, akane knew teru well enough to know how he would react, and moved his hand (that was guarding his sword) away
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And teru’s face is very telling aswell. Ive never seen him make this face before its kinda funny. He looks as if someones just ripped something from him. He knew akane was behind him, but he didnt do this. Who did this to him. Wouldnt akane shout oh i dont know “hey pres watch out” or something?? Whats happening??
he turns and the one thing he was hoping wasn’t true, was true
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It WAS him. Teru’s had a record of responding to distressed moments by taking it out on other people via violence, feeling betrayed, he immediately turns to attack akane.
And akane hits him with the “forgive me president.” with the title for added sincerity, showing he really does care
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Teru not stopping after akane’s told him to multiples times, akane was forced to put him into an even more vulnerable position, this time, without room for withdrawl
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During the trial (chapter 110) alot of people were shitting on teru for not doing anything while akane was being beat up by tsukasa, but dudes in a restraint ofc he cant fucking do anything, he said it himself 😭
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Teru has always seen akane as human, and thats i think one of the things akane likes ab him. Even after literally being half supernatural and welding inhuman abilities, he still sees him as human. Snd therefore treats him like one. But this “betrayal” i feel like changed something for him. He refers to his as a “clock keeper” rather than “aoi” or any other name
(looking at him, signifying its directed at him too)
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Case and point, teru and akane trust and care for eachother (or at least used to) even if they dont say it :3
i feel like theres more but i cant think of anything. I also don’t even know what point i just made here so if u don’t understand, i dont either ur not alone
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tokyoyumeeee · 1 year
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girlfriend exe!
featuring: ganyu, ayaka, lisa, ei, yae miko
tags: fluff, Valentine’s Day headcanons, unedited(im writing this at 1am lol)
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GANYU
-ganyu would prefer if you two could spend Valentine’s Day away from liyue harbor, but if you prefer staying at the harbor she’ll oblige anything 4 u <3
-ganyu finds the time to make you chocolate from scratch(handmade chocolate) sjjidjdnwjsu
-she’ll write you a whole 10 page essay about how grateful she is to be your gf and how much she loves you and pass it off as a “small letter of appreciation”
-if you’re big about valentines day she’ll make the big sacrifice of calling a day off to spend the entire day with you(she just wants you to be happy :( )
-if not, she’ll meet you somewhere for lunch, continue on her day and spend a bit more time with you at night<333
-she’s actually pretty adamant on spending time w/ you during valentines day cause she normally doesn’t have much time for you and she wants to show that she still loves you
AYAKA
-Ayaka would love to spend Valentine’s Day with you alone somewhere private because she wants it to be intimate and just between the two of you yk?
-if you don’t want to spend it somewhere private and would prefer to spend it out in public, like inazuma city, she’s not opposed
-she’s actually a big valentines person, but understands if you’re not
-will write you a letter to express her love for you
-she’d normally be too shy to deliver the letter to you in person but she made an exception for Valentine’s Day
-if you want to spend valentines day with her in private, you might just spend the entire day in bed cuddling
-if you wanna spend it in public you’d go shopping, have dinner somewhere nice, then cuddle once you return home at night
LISA
-oh boy, lisa during Valentine’s Day? ill just list some of the sfw stuff ive thought for her 😟
-will make the tiring trip outside the library to the souvenir shop to buy you something
-writes you a poem and a letter
-orders a sumeru rose for you so you’ll have something to remember her with
-no doubt you’ll invite her on a date all around mondstadt
-pls buy her something, she might pass it off like she doesn’t care but it means a lot to her if you show her that you care enough to get her a gift :(
-if you wanna be lazy you can just stay in bed all day with her and cuddle
-she’s not opposed to either ideas
EI
-this is complicated
-if you wanna spend valentines day with the shogun, it’s difficult to convince her
-she thinks that celebrating holidays is a trivial thing and a waste of time but if ei forces her she’ll just spend some one on one time with you
-spending valentines with ei is a whole different story
-she’ll leave the plane of euthimiya and go on a date with you around Inazuma city, but you guys can go further than that
-if you want you can take a stroll through chinju forest, or hike up to the highest point in serari island
-she knows you’ll get tired before her so once you start wearing out she’ll piggyback you back to tenshukaku
-if you’re not big abt valentines day or just wanna spend it in private you guys can just goof off in tenshukaku or have heartfelt convos, your choice
YAE MIKO
-yae miko will just suddenly reveal that she had been writing a novel about you getting married to her and planned to publish it on valentines day 💀
-her teasing and flirting just amplified
-you’ll find her all over you
-knows that you want to spend valentines with her whether you like the holiday or not, but does everything to get you to admit it
-she’ll spoil you no shit but every time you ask her for something you have to do something for her in return
-she’ll ask for things like “give me a kiss”, “hug me”, even “let me pet gorou’s tail” god knows what’s going on in her brain 💀
-she can be sincere though and will express it to you by giving you a sincere “I love you” and a kiss before you fall asleep
genshin boy ver.
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qvrcll · 2 years
Text
Mornings — ELLIE WILLIAMS.
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I — synopsis: God forbid you ever fell into the hands of Ellie Williams in the bright eyes of a groggy morning. Or invite it, perhaps. Either one is charming enough to send a flurry down your spine.
II — warnings: female shy reader, confident and whipped ellie, fluff, no explicit smut but insinuating facets of it at the start + kinda sensual but mostly just physical comfort but ellie is a tease, has some mentions of insecurity on reader’s end but its minor.
III — a/n: this actually took such little time that i’m a bit embarrassed. it’s so messy and gross and COMPLETELY all over the place. i wanted it to take foot into a different route but i thought ending it like this was nice enough. i hope. yeah. yeah? yeah. hm. let me know if you like this, i would love your comments. i love any feedback. ALSO a little note but i wrote ellie to be a little tanned due to missions, ergo “honey kissed” blah blah, so yeah. if ur confused, there’s that! also this was shamelessly inspired by wanna be yours by AM. caution be thrown in the wind. woe is i.
IV — word count ~ 2.3K
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“Don’t miss me too much”, she’d whisper, when words felt like too much of a peeve, when her fingers would cavort across the warmth of your skin, which was already gleaming for her to just touch you.
“Already miss me, pretty girl?”, she’d chuckle into the canvas of your neck, heavy and flush against your torse when she’d want to get impossibly close to your skin, wanting to take advantage of the way you coiled into the scope of her body — breath beating incessantly against her cheek.
“Already miss me, pretty girl?”, she’d chuckle into the canvas of your neck, heavy and flush against your torse when she’d want to get impossibly close to your skin, wanting to take advantage of the way you coiled into the scope of her body — breath beating incessantly against her cheek.
“Of course you missed me”, she’d practically carve the words into the scraggy sheen of sweat on your chest, lips bruising the sloppy skin with sincere words. Until the words washed you over again and again and again — a circle, a pandemonium you couldn’t rid yourself of.
This morning couldn’t be more similar, even if you tried for it to be.
When you awoke, you weren’t sure which colours your eyes first caught, keeping your senses peeled on the prickling sensation of tough-skinned fingers guarding your hips, stationary with every breath you took. They had been caked with mud just months ago, bathed in blood that smothered you to pieces but now, they were sallow, kisses of gingerly placed freckles dotting the rough skin — it felt calloused but commonplace.
Routinely, it was Ellie who normally woke you up before duty called. But on this particular day, you were met with the blinding titillation of the sun first instead, groaning softly when you realised you were caged by her cosmic grasp — her snores failed to alert you of her awakening any time soon.
“Mn, Ellie…” you whisper, feeling apologetic to wake her up after scrutinising every rise and fall of her chest, paying close attention to the measured rhythms that strummed against the supple flesh of your back. It felt strange, even after all these months, to feel so incredibly shy under every minuscule morning breath of hers; yet here you lay, melted in her ivory grasp, flesh touching hers and in a way you could have never imagined.
“Ellie, wake up”, you repeat, expecting gold but hitting rock when she doesn’t budge against the incredible volume of your whisper — she’s winsome but one element of the girl that riddled you the most was her ability to sleep things out without waking up through it, not until an anvil dropped at her head. Even now, her breath didn’t stagger and her arms lay flaxen against the pivot of your arm and elbow, grazing the indents with heat.
“Ellie”, you repeat, barely drawling your words anymore, instead, it’s chasmic with impatience when her breath is steady, mites running across the odd hairs on your back — you don’t turn, don’t speak, at-least for a while, soaking in the obsolete air of her arms, which harrow into you, with much invited love. As much as you loved to bask in her shadow, you knew that Ellie was a one minded person who saw no qualms for the things or people she loved, ultimately being her shortcoming or, perhaps, her strength. And coupled with those brawny hands, you knew you would indulge in you for hours before putting a stop to her chambré glances — getting dressed, grabbing her bag and what not.
“Ellie, you have to get up”, you nudge once, then twice and then poke the honey kissed limbs of hers and she finally groans. You don’t see an endpoint in sight, at least not for a while, till she shifts into the plush sinew of your back, and though she’d done this countless of times when she was somnolent, there was a new meaning behind those soft grazes and the heavy weight of her wide spread fingers drawing fixed circles into your thigh. She’s finally conscious and she’s quite unbreakable when she is.
“Baby…?” her voice is unruly, guttural with all the emotions you cannot find coherent; of course, your heart jumps with the gravel texture of her words and she notices when your ears flame a foxier colour of the one before — she’s had you in the palm of her hand several times before, smiling, laughing, squirming. Stroking, nudging, pushing and pulling. But this — this, she admits, is one of her favourites. When you’re placed on the hem of every limb of hers, so out of reach but smelling, feeling and definitely looking so good, within the innards of her reach but still seeming like a dream.
Ellie loved it.
“Naughty girl, why are you so shy?” she teases and every groan that’s held in your heart spills in ghostly wisps of air, sighing when she rubs your skin in her comfortable grasps, ones you could never replicate, no one could. They were numbing with the tepidity of an autumn intrusiveness, but so, so warm that you wouldn’t mind if she ripped the blankets right off the two of you, as long as those reigns of vein would hold you so tight — like you were going to escape her.
You crunch under her gaze, like a poorly made sand castle and groan delightfully when your muscles relax against her, “‘M sorry that you make me so nervous, miss Williams”, you move your hands to grip hers, that still with her confusion when your body shifts, moving left, nudging right and you’re facing her.
If she could summarise this moment in simple words — but that could never be accomplished because you were enigma to her that could only be expressed in the most convoluted of words but she tried — you were her star. Her kettle. Her emotions. Her hands, tongue, feet. You were her bare essentials, her breath when she toothily grins at you and it’s almost enough to sway your heart, almost, if not for her hands snaking into impish slithers up your thigh and you don’t even stop her — yet she stops right near your hip, just still. Stationary.
She drags her eyes to your neck.
“Sleep well?” she’s distracted, and you know it.
“As always” you play along, running a warm hand down her face, stroking the inch of eye bags that paint her skin, but they seem better than months prior, so you tincture her skin with your touch, under her lip, her nose and certainly her jaw. She’s tense, in some way. Or another. You can’t tell.
“Mm, what about you?” she’s all dry bones when you raise you voice again, scuttling within your touch and you swear you see a brush of red beneath those hearty freckles of hers, but you don’t know whether to poke, prod or hang still till she surrenders.
“Good, good” she lies. You can tell, partly due to her intermittent gaze that flows right through your irises, and partly due to the way the silence drags on even more. There’s more. She wants to say more. You know, because the taste is leaving something clumsy on your tongue that you decipher as half-assed fear, something that produced itself in the self conceived theory that Ellie was getting sick of you. Fully. Completely. You’re staring at her. She’s looking back, focused. You’re scared. But then, the taste slicks into sweetness and you breath her in like yesterday’s perfume when she kisses you, soft and unbecoming, like a rose.
“Sorry, I just… I just needed to…” she’s embarrassed. She’s kissed you into a blushing mess and she’s embarrassed. She’s a crocodile, fierce and pulsing. She’s a cloud, soft and unbecoming under your touch, hell, your gaze. You attempt to chase the mist until it comes undone completely.
“You’re too cute sometimes” you curve into a grin, literally, as your body beams at her. And she beams back, exasperated because she just can’t get enough, can she?
“Sometimes?” she grins, a Cheshire cat, too far for something fake. She’s genuine and she’s stretching you, so far past your limits, that you’re tearing. Creasing. Going molten. You decide to stop thinking before you melt.
“Other times you’re like a volcano” the sheets buck against your foot when she sits up, resting wearily against the headboard and you do the same, but the difference is that you scoot down further down the board, shoulders scratching hers. You don’t notice it.
“Angry?” she panics. She’s like an ocean, so easy to read, and right now, she’s open. The light that pours through the window hits the headboard, the sheets and pinballs onto her face and god, she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Hot”, you work to joke lightly, rolling your eyes when she sighs in relief. She moves closer, if that was even possible, and cups a space on your shoulders when her right arm slings around you, bruising the skin with that same old familiar balminess, “Does that make you the core of the earth then?”
You look over to the bed-side clock whilst Ellie breathes you in mindlessly, glass split beautifully like cobwebs on the surface but working just as fine as the day Ellie had stuffed it into her bag, after you wordlessly eyed it through an empty store on a lookout. It had been an eccentric shade of maroon, and also with hand painted flowers all over the sides, back, creases, when you last saw it months ago. Now, it was easily a duller shade, more a light claret and nearly every painted flower looked like a dot, a star in the galaxy. The hands pointed to 9AM, leaving you a time bracket of an hour before any changing, packing or leaving must be done; Maria was crisp with her regimen and her coffee, and if you knew any better, you ought to be on time. But the voice of reason was no longer there, because Ellie’s lips on your neck had killed the instinct.
Normally, you would’ve chose to usher her away in a fit of giggles, enjoyed to watch her slouch all the way to the bathroom to wash up, but your body was alarmingly cold, had been. But with her lips against any inch of your skin, the tantalising heat covered the canvas, and there you were, falling and falling and falling like a snowstorm in the svelte burn of a winter outside, “Ellie”, you breathe.
It’s dangerous, she’s dangerous, her lips are dangerous, sweetly producing sounds just as sweet that you feel embarrassed — rightfully so, because her mouth blends with your neck, the back of your neck, your shoulder blade, and she’s thoroughly melting into you. So abysmally slow, like a static volcano, magma inert. “Y/N”, she breaths, but adds more unlike you, “you’re beautiful”.
Beautiful. Right. She says that a lot. And you? You malfunction, for fucks sake. Your breath? Trapped in your throat. Your hands? Wedged at your sides, where you can’t visibly see but feel as they’re crinkled with profound confusion — no, anticipation, for her chapped lips to score against your ear roughly but she stops. Stops. Fucking stops. You want to be annoyed, you want to cutely nerved to the point where she gives you want you wants. But she’s staring at you and you can almost smell the earth of her scent. You’re shy again.
She notices and grins, “An hour? I need more time” her grin widens. On occasion, Ellie would wilfully pick at your patience like petals on a flower, one at a time, licking her lips in concentration as she watched you get vexed, twisting and turning into dead ends, corrosive sanity draining at her toes when she plucked again. But not now. She’s staring into your eyes, genuine and naked, when she first told you she loved you.
Loved, not liked.
Loved.
It had been so foreign, you thought it was a joke. But Ellie was the last person to fiddle with your feelings for a stupid crumpled dollar and a dare, so you fell. Hard, fast, no chance of landing back on your feet, because you’re no cat. You’re hers. Hers. God, you’re hers, aren’t you?
“Hey”, Her rigid voice on your neck fills you with surprise again, ripping you out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about?” she purses her lips, breathes you in, holds you like a halo all at once and it feels like a conflicting cycle. But you’re addicted. “About you”, you’re bold and she gives it to you, swiping a messy finger over the top of your hip. You jolt. She doesn’t. It’s monetary but sublime and you swear to not bite on your lip, but you’re only human.
Your steely teeth rub at your bottom lip when you’re nervous, sometimes you draw blood when you’re sure you’ll die. But now, you’re barely pulling it into the butterfly grip your teeth have on the bottom one. Cautious, it misreads as, but in such-and-such truth, you’re delicate in her embrace. Prone to break, shatter into fragments dressed to impair past relief.
But Ellie is careful today, at this minute. She stops. Stares. Stares some more and smiles.
“Come, let’s get ready”.
You don’t know what you expected but whatever she gives, you take. Whatever she touches, you grip. Whatever she breathes life into, it sure as hell always comes back to you — a circle. Undeniable. Unfathomable.
“Help me up then”, you fake a pout and she staggers into confusion, then realisation and then a fine line of giggles.
She’s yours. However many times she inked the words into your skin, however many times she painted her world with the colours of you.
She’s yours and you? Infinitely hers.
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songbirdtales · 6 months
Text
Trust Me, It Doesn't Happen
A little lil break up conversation between the songbird and ascended astarion. There's no way in the 9 hells they'd become a vampire spawn for him, and I dont imagine he could stay with them without that control so... Also this is the stuff ive been working on for my dnd campaign and when I tell you I've made 3 players and myself cry in sessions so far and we havent even had a group session 1 XD
“People think the greatest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stack. It’s not. The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire.” The words rang in their ears from months ago, the way he used to sound. Now, Astarion sounded and moved a little too perfectly. It felt unreal.
“You wouldn’t be just another spawn. You’re far more than that to me.” He looked so truly wounded by the hesitation, yet there was something missing. There was nothing behind his eyes, the mask now fully affixed to his face obscuring any truth behind it completely.
He could see the conflict in their face as their eyes studied him frantically. “They’re scheming, paranoid, power hungry beasts.” His old voice continued in their memories as they took another step away from him.
“I’d never want to control you.” He stepped forward, advancing as he saw them pulling away from him. With each step back they took, he advanced, looming as they shrunk. “I-”
“So why would any vampire give up control over a spawn? To create a competitor?” Pain formed on their face as his old voice overlapped his new.
“Love you.” He looked so sincere, so warm, but his voice sounded just like the first time he’d ever said it. When he was lying.
“They wouldn’t.” Astarion could see Tav visibly wince, as if someone were twisting a knife in their side before all emotion drained from their face.
“That’s what you’ve been waiting to hear, isn’t it?” He was so sure of himself, he hadn’t realized he’d already lost them.
“Trust me, It doesn't happen.” Tears welled in their eyes as they took a deep breath in and sighed out to the memory, 
“I do trust you…” They squeezed their eyes shut, tears streaming down their cheeks. “I’m sorry,” They gasped. “I can’t…”
Astarion perfect face twisted with a hint of confusion, his head tilting slightly as Tav answered his ghost. “What was that, little love?”
“This is over, whatever it was.” They let the ring drop to the floor. “I won’t be your Astarion so you can play Cazidor.”
Anger bloomed in him, instantly blossoming into aggression as he got in their face, nose to nose with them. He’d yelled at them before, but never like this. “How dare you-”
“Then tell me that’s not exactly what this would be.” They pleaded with their eyes just like they had so many times just before he'd fail them. "Tell me and I'll believe you."
He fell silent, trying to wrestle his anger down quickly for a reply but his hesitation was answer enough for the bard. The Entertainer saw the Charlatan for what he was. They always had.
“You told me exactly what vampires do and I believe what you told me then.” There was so much pain in their eyes, but he couldn’t see past his own panic as they slipped through his fingers. “I believed the old you because at least you were honest about being a liar.
“You will regret this.” He hissed as his composure cracked.
“I’m sure I will.” There was a strange calm to Tav as all the walls came back up. “If I don't come by it on my own, I’m sure you’ll make me.”
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ask-the-clergy-bc · 1 year
Note
Ooh! How about hcs of the papas with a shy s/o that gets flustered and bashful very easily whenever papa flirts with them? Like they’re s/o’s face turns a little pink and they kinda stutter or just don’t know how to respond?
(you don’t have to do papa 1, I love papa 1, but I don’t personally romanticize him. Papa nihil is fine since we do have the young version of him)
Went ahead and added Young Nihil for this. But I absolutely do romanticize Papa 1 so he's also gonna be added for me and my fellow old man lovers! (lol) ;)
Please enjoy!
Papas with an S/O That Gets Easily Flustered and Blushes when Flirting
(Young) Papa Nihil: When it comes to making you blush, the man is incorrigible. Nihil LOVES to do everything he can to make you blush and giggle at his antics. Whether that's compliments, stealing surprise kisses, or boldly flirting no matter where you are! His favorite is when you stutter to his words. That's when he pulls the biggest move by caressing your cheek gently and leaning in closer. "What's the matter, Amore? Cat got your tongue?" Nihil will make sure to say this while leaning in for an actual kiss. If you pull away to giggle it just makes him grin in victory. He loves taking every opportunity he can to get you to get flustered!
Papa I: Finds it adorable, but is just happy to know that you enjoy it and that he still has that charm. He's been convinced that since he isn't a young pup anymore he couldn't POSSIBLY have the same charisma he possessed back in the day. But really, age only made his wit faster and his words more potent. Papa doesn't notice that he reserves the most beautiful and flowery language for you alone. So to see you blushing and looking away makes him elated. Plus, you ARE adorable when you look so flustered. For him there is such a sincere sweetness you radiate that just snares him in. Papa makes sure to tell you how much he admires this about you. He adores it like no other!
Papa II: It's his absolute favorite thing, and he is a MASTER at getting you to turn red! Though Papa does it at strategic times. If he really wanted to he could make you blush all day every day... but he likes to savor it like a fine wine. Papa will wait for you two to be alone before he does it, not wanting to share how breath taking you are when you turn bashful and won't make eye contact with him. He grins and starts describing how becoming you are when your shyness takes over. From the color on your cheeks, to the little look you get on your face when you realize he's complimenting you. Papa is even bold enough to gently take your chin and turn you to look at him so, "he can get the best look" at you. The worst part is how calm he is during the whole thing!
Papa III: Will take advantage of it every chance he gets. Papa will even make a game out of it, and whisper all the sweet nothings to you in public. Just to watch you giggle and playfully push him away. In private he's more bold. Loves kissing up your arm and neck to tell you how he could write poetry of your adorable reactions. "Amore, how can I flatter you when you pull away? I loooooong to see the color on your cheeks!" Actually loves when you get bashful enough to shove him away and run off. It makes a fun chase!! Jokingly threatens to take photos of you to let him keep, just to hear you squeal 'noooooooo don't!' You've tried many times to get him back but it never works. It just makes him want to play more!
Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: When you first got together Copia was actually worried by this. He would apologize profusely, convinced he made you uncomfortable! But you had to shyly explain that you loved him flirting just, it's something you could never not blush over! When he understood he tried not to get you flustered... too much. Copia would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. On days he's bold he likes to sit with you and cuddle. Whispering all the things he loves about you and how attractive he finds you. Copia will watch you so intently just to see the way you come undone for him with just sweet words. He'll give you small pecks on the cheek and call you adorable, just to grin as you get flustered more. "My love, I could watch you forever like this."
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20 Fic Writer Quesions
First, thank you @singeart and @mytardisisparked for tagging me!. I did a set of these last year and it was fun to see how my answers have changed since then!
How many works do you have on Ao3?
61
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?
1.6 million and counting!
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Star Trek Voyager
Star Trek Prodigy
Sailor Moon
Harry Potter
Madam Secretary
Ive debated writing SwanQueen for a long time but by the time I had the energy and time to write, I'd lost interest in the show. I might rewatch and come back to it one day...
I have thought about writing Wynonna Earp or Tamora Pierce universe fanfiction but have yet to get an idea that grabs me. I like to find things i want to fix and it's hard when the source material is perfection.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
The Parent Trap (305)
Sailor Moon H Order of the Phoenix (289)
Sailor Moon H Half Blood Prince (222)
Eden's Deception (167)
Out of Reach (150)
5. Do you respond to comments?
I try to! although if I'm busy or feeling down it can take me a while. Sometimes I forget.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I still think What Even is 3 Minutes takes the cake. Or I'll be Your First if You'll be my Last
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I Heard the Comm on Christmas Morn and Parent Trap
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Unfortunately I've gotten hate on fics since I started writing them... and it's become just something I expect to happen. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes it confuses me. Sometimes it makes me sad. It really depends...
The memorable haters:
There was the delightful Fanfiction.net reviewer who got pissed i was "making everybody gay" (that was funny actually). I forget if they were the same person who flamed me when Mcgonagall and Hooch kissed under some mistletoe. I digress. They thought queering up the canon was like sinful or whatever. I was delighted to disagree and make the story even queerer.
Another person cussed me out for magically restraining Sailor Plutos time travel powers so my plot would work and for making her have feelings about it. aparently mad the senshi were not all powerful deus exmachinas who never feel feelings... That one stung. That was the reason I left FFN.
Hate because in Sailor Moon H, Harry Potter was not the main character.
Hate that I made a magic bio baby for the magical lesbians. (I can't have a biobaby with my wife irl, can't I at least let the fantasy girlies have one!)
Hate for including C/7 in a story
...I wouldn't call it hate for the fic but I have had an uncomfortable amount of commenters who hate on Chakotay any time I have him involved with Seven / don't have him grovel to Kathryn / really any time I let him advocate for how he's been hurt... at first comments like this stressed me out because i worried i had not written the character sufficiently sympathetic. But then Parent Trap breached containment and I got enough comments to be able to see I had definitely written the character fine... it was just that some people were always just rooting for a "Chakotay falls over himself to apologize to Janeway for not immediately dating her" storyline that... I'm not sorry 😅 I'm never going to write that. The older I get the more I feel like both of J/C just need therapy! They've been through so much trauma. Their feelings are valid (yes, even for other people).
Parent Trap breaching containment also meant that when I hit an irl rut and couldnt get in the writing headspace for a bit, a bunch of - sincerely, well meaning - fans got into their heads to start a commenting campaign to get me to update. I heard about it and panicked (i had bad experiences that year of getting people who only commented "update soon" and those conversely stressed me out and made me not want to write - I love fic writing for the conversations and community... so it made me feel like readers thought i was just a content vending machine). so just the thought of potentially getting an avalanche of guests, well meaning or not, begging me to update made me lock commenting until the fic was done. I wound up deciding after that that since "update soon" requests were becoming a lot more frequent that I'd consider before posting whether getting them would hurt my ability to finish. So most of the time now if I know a fic is going to reach a bigger potential community, I don't start posting it until it's almost done. That has had some upsides! (Im less dependent on positive feedback for motivation now!) and some downsides (no one comments on my fics with their theories anymore) but on a whole, a good decision.
Immediately after finishing Parent Trap I wrote Fever and got this amazing guest comment from someone who said (paraphrasing cuz i'm too busy to go find it) "Youre better than this. how dare you write this filth. J/C are better than this" that one had me laughing for days. But the comment did prompt me to create a second account later when I wrote a tentacle fic. At the time I worried i'd get a ton of similar flame comments from people who were subscribed to my main for other types of fic... but I am even feeling like that's unnecessary now. I write what I write! Yes, some of it is really dirty, weird smut. I'm not sorry.
Currently any time I post a Threshold AU fic an anon drops into my comments section in order to call me "Sick" and "Deranged"... they make me so sad I don't even make a quippy reply. I just delete them. I write that universe for my own wish fulfillment... Someday (soon, hopefully) I'm gonna have kids. And I am going to have to have conversations with them about who their biological dad is. Why they look like one mom and not the other, whether their non bio family love them even if theyre not blood related. I might have a kid who feels different from everyone else because they're queer or they're neurodivergent or they're some new alienating feeling I am totally unprepared for. and I'll need to help them navigate that.. Writing about hybrid salamander kids getting raised in a blended family is FUN. But more importantly... it helps me practice those situations. It comforts me to know that if the characters can figure this out in the AU then I can figure this out in real life! What the hell is sick and deranged about that!?
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I write all sorts of smut. I post the stuff that doesn't totally mortify me once i've gotten out of whatever mood had me writing the smut in the first place.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I have exactly two crossovers to my name: Sailor Delta and Sailor Moon H. I think on the basis of word count alone Sailor Moon H (>500,000) is definitely the craziest.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I consider the unlicensed use of the AO3 archive for ChatGPT and similar LLMs theft. (and there are several court cases pending that are also seeking to address whether it is legally theft as it pertains to published fiction and newspapers). The canon creators of the fandoms I write for aren't allowed to make money by using uncredited ideas pulled from my fanfiction (just like I am not allowed to make money from writing fic with their copyrighted settings and characters) and i continue to be apalled that ChatGPT and other LLMs think they can get away with using others copyrighted ideas without permission. Especially that they can take advantage of people who cant profit off their own work.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 
No but i would be open to it!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! Once with @magdalenejaneway, once with @jellybeansarecool and once with @trekflower and all three were fantastic!
Most of what I write for Threshold AU is also increasingly collaborated on a great deal by the AU creators and a few other folks. It's been going for over 2 years now and doing that more and more has enabled us all to drop more references to previous fics and to create a more cohesive body of fic for the AU. in general its just been so fun and fulfilling to make these stories with other people who are as invested in the characters as me and it just fills me with joy. I'm really grateful for you guys.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
On the one hand J/C have inspired over 50 fics, But on the other I have also been loving Sailor Moon and those ships since before I knew what fandom or shipping were. And really the only reason J/C inspire more fic is that all the sailor moon characters got a happy ending.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I never want to give up on a WIP...
but I am in knots about what all to do with Out of Reach.
Out of Reach is a St:Prodigy S1 AU where Chakotay has amnesia and doesn't remember anything from his time on Voyager, all the while he and Kathryn are in a situationship with a baby.
There's two questions I never figured out how to answer: 1. Does he get his memories back. If so, how much and what enables it. and 2: Do he and Kathryn stay together?
On the memories front. saying he never recovers seems unfair to the character. But saying he magically does thanks to 24th century science feels cheap and disrespectful - to the reality of real memory loss and to the plot that built up so much tension around this. Saying he gets back some or more over time is more realistic, but left me uncertain of where exactly to end the story. Tying his retrieval of memories to Kathryn also tied me up in knots. On the one hand they're in love and thats romantic. on the other hand the optics of his recovery totally dependent on one person is icky.
I also found the baby really annoying to have there by the end - I still think he's cuteeee i really do!!! - it's just... he makes the "we should stay together and try to figure this out" answer a bit too convenient 😅. and he complicates Kathryns reluctance to restart their relationship. The more she resists, the more callous she seems (deliberately not trying to patch things up with her kid's father) when i really just want to focus on her fears that Chakotay would be happier without her and that even if they restart their romance, she might lose him again on a future mission. It's ironic because i originally created the baby to ensure she wouldnt just run away from her fears. And now hes contributing to my difficulty ending the fic...
Actually the more I think on it, my real problem is I could write my way out of this, but I cant do it in only one or two chapters and that makes me feel tired. i was sorta hoping to wrap that fic up. 😅🙈
16. What are your writing strengths?
Imagery has always been a strength for me. But i think I'm also getting really good at action scenes too.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Oneshots.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Only if it was information i wanted the reader to understand but not the POV character.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
W.I.T.C.H way back when I was 15.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Universe to Mend - I even have a few sequel or companion novel ideas to come after it.
This has gone on a while... 😅 - thank you for tagging me and letting me ramble! i'll tag anyone else who wants to answer! have at it.
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lavender-z-love · 1 year
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Knock On
Jaehyun X Black.FemReader
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☁️ Genre: Fluff, Confession, Idol Lovers
✨️ Warnings: Nothing I don't think, Let me know
☁️ A/n: This was supposed to be posed on December 15th but today is the 16th of January- Anyway I wanted to make something sweet so please enjoy
✨️ Wordcount: About 900
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"Wow! The moon is so pretty Tonight!"
Your jaw drops in amazement. The natural satellite, gleaming unusually brighter than usual. Such elegance and charming without it doing much. Jaehyun had brought you to the roof top of the SM's Parking-Lot building. Your fellow Idol friend, asking to spend time with you after a collab. Your friendship growing day by day, it was safe to say Jaehyun was more than ever a big supporter of yours.
He watched you lean against the cement wall/ledge, to get a better look. Your elbows placed on the small wall, you held your chin in the palm of your hands. The stars reflected in your beautiful doe eyes. Jaehyun had to face it, looked like you were more invested in the night sky than him. Jaehyun didn't complain about it though, still you looked absolutely breathtaking. The way the wind blows, as the moonlight glistens upon you. Your dress danced in the delicate wind, shining, giving an illusion you were an angel.
Your jet black hair..its satiny coils which stopped mid-black also had been carressed by the wind. Jaehyun hopped down from the hood of the car he'd been observing you from. As if it wasn't hard enough already to not constantly think about you..or bashful at the sight of you. Tonight he could feel it in his heart; there was no hope for sleep, you lived rent-free inside it. Now standing next to you, it honestly made him timid.
"How are you enjoying the view?"
You sighed in delight,"Oh it's wonderful!" Jaehyun wished you'd look at him like that. You turned to him, revealing a sincere smile. He knew it was genuine and that made him very happy. Your bronzed skin, smooth and airbrushed in the celestial body's light. "Oh! Jae-Sunbae! I hope you dont mind, but I brought you some wine as a gift!"
"Of course. Though, you didn't have to Y/n. Also, please! No need to be so formal with me."
"What? No! I don't mind! Besides, why not?". You playfully winked,"As a matter in fact, celebration is in order!" Jaehyun laughed, receiving his glass. His lips part as the wine glass slips between them. Infact this time, you too become flustered and not because of the wine. Your eyes quickly move back to the sky. Jaehyun hummed as a response,"Its really good!"
"No cheers first?",you laughed.
Jaehyun smiled wryly, and stopped drinking quickly. "Right, Sorry"..He said scratching the back of his neck.
"No, No- I was just teasing Sunbae",you said reassuring him. The both of you walk and take rest against Jaehyun's car, taking seat on top of the hood. Enjoying a nice evening ambience. Jaehyun eventually taking notice that you were shivering. In a swift motion, he takes his jacket off, draping it on your shoulders. You pulled the jacket together, amused,"Sunbae I appreciate the gesture, but aren'tyou cold?"
Jeahyun, scoots a bit closer. Helping you zip up the jacket. "No I'm fine. Though, this is nothing, Im capable of much more than you think, Y/n". He smiled, keeping his eyes on you. "Much more you say? Like what?",you asked as you adjusting the jacket. You were cute, asking him little questions.
"Oh well—cooking, cleaning, I'm a huge romantic.." Suprised to hear him playfully respond back. You were speechless, gazing back at him with a light pink hue. "Seems like, there was competition between me and the moon, for your attention."
"Competition?"
"Mhm..Looks like Ive finally won too."
Hiding behind your hair, embarrassed by the things he's saying. Jaehyun's no idiot, the two of you have been working on a collaboration for a while if anything, he's come to have an idea of what your habits are. One of them being when you're shy, you use your hair to hide. His hand carefully reaching over to brush your locks out of your face and behing your ear.
"You're right Y/n, The moon is absolutely beautiful tonight", Jaehyun Sung. Realizing that, the phrase that Jaehyun just said had another meaning. "Sunbae!", You yelp gently pushing his shoulder. "You shouldn't say things like that!" You covered you mouth, shocked by his sudden confession. "Y-You've clearly had enough to drink", You declared soon attempt to take his glass away from him. Though when you placed your hand on the wine glass, Jaehyun stopped you. Placing his slender fingers on yours. There it was that Princely smile he'd given you many times before, but for some reason..this time was different.
Finding your reaction quite enjoyable, he soon spoke up,"Im serious Y/n..I'm not speaking to you as your 'Sunbae'..but as Yuno." Your eyes widened, shocked.. "But..Im-" you were swiftly cut off,"I don't mind one bit."
You averted your gaze, looking down at your fiddling fingers..You liked him, you did- "God you're embarrassing.."
Jaehyun blessed you with that cute angelic laugh. He was now standing in front of you. One hand on your left and the other on your right. He leans in a little,"So? What do you say?"
Why, why was he like this. Speaking of which...the atmosphere so beautiful when he asked you, almost like the universe had this planned for you. The moon illuminates his skin giving him such a glow. There was no pressure into anything you didn't want. You were just taking in this masterpiece in front of you.
Your answer was with certainly, you attempted to hide your bashfulness. "Yes, I-I'd love to."
A cheeky grin, from ear to ear. "Tell me if this is too bold of a move, I'll stop If you're uncomfortable.." He leans in, holding his hand up to your left cheek. Soft strokes with his thumb on your skin. His lips now, embedded on your right cheek. You were definitely flushed though because of the night sky, it went unnoticeable.
Jaehyun pulls away, slightly tugging at your hands. He placing them around his neck, and he went back to his previous position. Leaning forward with his hands on either side of you.
"So.."
"So?"
"What's our first deed as a couple?"
You look to the sky thinking,"Err..Um– promise me."
He raises his pinkie to you,"Of?" His action catches you off guard. 'He's so cute!' You thought to yourself. "Keep me happy...Treat me right." You raise your pinky, linking it to his.
"I, Jung Jaehyun, Promise to keep you happy...I'll keep you elated, I'll make you more than happy. I will treat you right, Y/n."
"Sunbae–"
Your pinkies fall,"My turn, ditch the 'Sunbae' Jaehyun, Yuno, or a pet name will do."
He lifts his his opposite pinkie,"Um..Sunb–"
He stops you, waving his pinkie,"uh uh uh..Promise me." With your eyes semi-closed you glare at him. 'Hmm...I guess.' Now linking your pinkie with his again. "Okay then deal."
"Deal", your fingers fall. His eyes glow with endearment. He was willing and ready to make you happy. "What do you say we pick this up from tomorrow? Maybe with a date?"
You nod shyly,"Yes..I like the sound of that."
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Written on December 15th 2022
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crimson-calligraphyx · 8 months
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I don't know how long I held onto Leora, but no amount of time would ever be enough with how badly I had missed her. She didn't seem to mind, but eventually she got sick of my crying, and the whole room erupted into laughter when she very forcefully told me to stop. I wiped my tears away with a laugh; oh, how I missed her sass.
She laid her head on my chest, her little arms wrapped around me tightly, and I played with her hair. It was still just as soft as I remembered and smelled of strawberries. I couldn't stop twiddling the dark strands between my fingers, the smile on my face never vanishing. Even though I was constricted to a hospital bed and hooked up to IVs with my leg suspended in a splint, I never felt more at home.
I asked how Christmas was, if Santa had brought her everything she wanted, and my heart broke hearing her say 'everything but you'. I squeezed her a little tighter and tried to suppress the cries that were bubbling inside me again by pressing a kiss to her head. "I'm so sorry, babygirl," I whispered, "I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll get you everything you want for your birthday, and more." Though I wasn't audibly crying, the tears still rolled down my face.
"I already got what I wanted, momma. I just wanted you back," she mumbles, her cheek squished against my chest as she nuzzles further into me. "Really?" My voice was hoarse and my chin trembles. She nods, her head still against my chest, and I took a deep breath in and let all the air out of my lungs to try and calm myself. I couldn't keep crying, I had to be strong for my little girl.
"Hey, Leo," Nick makes his way over to my side, rubbing the back of her head. "Why don't we let mom sleep for a bit, hm? Head back to the hotel with Nana and Papa, then we'll all come back tomorrow when she's rested." "No, I don't wanna," she whines, burying her face into me. I chuckled, rubbing her back. "I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here tomorrow, I promise." "Promise?" She picks her head up to look at me, tears glossing over her eyes. I stuck my pinky out and she hooks her pinky around mine. We both kissed our hands, sealing my promise.
I give her one last kiss on her cheek and tell her I love her before she slips off me, landing on her feet gracefully. She begins to trot towards the door, stopping in front of Noah, who had since moved to the vacant chair to give us our space, with an inquisitive look. She continues to stare at him, and he gives her a soft smile paired with a small wave.
Leora suddenly closes the distance between them and hugs him. I see the shock written on Noah's face, his body stiffening for a moment with the uncertainty of what to do. "Thanks for saving my mom," she says quietly, still clinging onto him. Noah and I locked eyes briefly, and all I could do was grin at the sincerity of the moment. He timidly wraps his arm around her small body, rubbing her back, and I see the subtle curl of his lips while he does so.
I look up at Nick when he places his hand on my shoulder, and he leans down to give me a hug. "Did you tell him?" he asked in a hushed tone. I simply nodded, feeling his arm tighten around me. "Good. I'm proud of you, Meels." He winks and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze when he pulls away from me, then makes his way towards the exit.
Leora and Noah separate, and she makes her way over to Nick's awaiting hand. I can see how reluctant she is to leave, with how she stares at me longingly, as if she's scared that she won't see me again. It hurts me to see her go so soon, but I know she'll be back tomorrow. Even so, I couldn't stop the tears from falling when I watched them leave.
Noah brings the chair over to my side and takes my hand in his, giving me a gentle squeeze. I roll my head towards him; he has a sympathetic, yet reassuring smile gracing his lips. I try to smile back, but my lips tremble and I'm crying all over again. He squeezes my hand a little tighter and wipes the tears away with his free hand, hushing me.
"They'll be back tomorrow, Meels. You heard him. Eat something and get some sleep." He motions his head towards the food tray on the other side of me. I take a choppy breath in and nod, trying to calm myself. "Okay," I mumbled. My food was probably cold by now, but he was right, I needed to eat.
He stands and lingers, still holding my hand. His eyes were soft even though he looked at me with uncertainty, like he wasn't sure if he should return to his room or stay by my side. A selfish part of me wanted him to stay so I wouldn't be alone, but he needs to rest, too. I let go of his hand and tell him to go back to his room so he can rest, and he hesitantly nods before turning around to head back.
"Thank you," I say just as he reaches the doorway. He turns around, one eyebrow perked in questioning. "For what?" "For...everything," I let out an airy laugh. "Encouraging me to keep fighting, getting me out and taking me here, and..." I trailed off and started picking at my nails, unsure if I should say the last bit of my sentence. "And?"
I smiled down at my hands bashfully and continued to pick at the skin, feeling my cheeks warm. I don't know why I felt so nervous suddenly; we just spent the last 6 weeks locked in a cellar together, completely vulnerable with one another. Between him getting sick and getting the shit kicked out of him, using the restroom in front of each other, me breaking down in front of him several times, and of course telling him some life-altering shit, there shouldn't be any reason I can't say something so simple.
Shaking my head, I laughed lightly at my foolishness and returned my gaze to him. "For being here. I really don't think I could've made it without you, Noah. Which feels ridiculous to say considering...well, you know." He lets out a soft chuckle, bobbing his head in understanding. "We're in this together, Amelia. Remember?" All I can do is nod in agreement. "Get some rest. I'll see you later." He gives me a thoughtful smile before turning and heading back to his room.
Together. It's still such a strange word to describe us.
But I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face or the butterflies from ricocheting in my stomach at the thought. Something about it just felt right.
-
There's a knock at my door, and it startles me awake—I let out a scream, unsure of who or what it was. I sat up quickly in a panic, the heart monitor beeping in time with my erratic heart as I looked around the room. It's not dark and it doesn't smell of mold or mildew. I can see the sky; clear blue and accompanied by puffy clouds. There's no dirt underneath me, but a clean bed with a blanket on top of me. I let out a huge sigh of relief, finally looking at the door.
I'm puzzled when two police officers cautiously make their way in, stopping by the foot of my bed. "Amelia Ruffilo?" One of them asks, and all I do is nod. He smiles kindly, "I’m Officer Michael DeCecca, this is my partner, Detective Andrew Garcia. How are you feeling?" They both flash their badges as he says their names. "I... I don't know," I croaked, my throat dry. I pulled the side table to me, reaching for the cup of water from earlier. I took a few small sips and cleared my throat. "For starters, confused." DeCecca chuckles, "You're not in any trouble, Amelia, we just want to ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you?"
My eyes dart between the two men in front of me while I once again picked at my nails anxiously. I knew I should trust them, but I couldn’t help the hesitancy that I felt, my stomach doing somersaults as the room filled with an uneasy silence. I huffed after a minute or two and nodded; they had been patiently waiting for confirmation from me.
“Great,” DeCecca starts. “Do you know why you’re here?” “Well, my leg is broken,” I mumbled and motioned to my leg that was still suspended in a splint. “How did you break your leg?” Detective Garcia steps in, a little on the assertive side compared to his partner. I jerked my head back slightly and scrunched my brows together, not appreciating the tone. “I stepped on a bear trap.” “And how did you step on a bear trap?” “I-I wasn’t paying attention when I was running from…him,” I stammered and squeezed my eyes shut as the memories flooded me.
I tried to shake the vision from my head—I could see the blur of the trees as my legs moved as fast as they could to get me away from that prison. I could feel the burning in my lungs when I fell to the ground and knocked the wind out of myself, gasping for air as the teeth of the bear trap ripped into my flesh. I could feel the panic caving in when I saw the crimson soaking through the denim I wore, coating the steel and hindering me from releasing the jaws from my leg.
I remember how helpless I felt, lying back against the icy leaves, accepting that I had met my fate. I remember the fear I felt when I saw Charles’ menacing shape reappear in front of me, trying my hardest to get away from his vile touch. I remember how defeated I felt when he carelessly dragged me back to the house and dumped me onto the dirt.
“No!” I shouted, suddenly feeling a hand on my shoulder. I blindly threw my arms out, swatting whoever it was that touched me, “Don’t touch me!” “Amelia, calm down hon,” I hear someone say. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help.” “Get away from me, Charles!” I screamed, feeling tears trail down my face.
I covered my ears with my hands, shaking my head, trying to rid the nightmare living in my head. It was of no use; I was stuck in those four concrete walls and dirt floor with nothing but a disgusting mattress and a single light bulb. There was no food, no water, no warmth other than the filthy clothes that I wore. There was the paradox of a door that I wanted open yet shut at the same time—open so I could escape but shut so I knew Charles wasn’t in the room with me.
I felt the hand on my shoulder again, but this time I threw my fist out and hit whoever was next to me. Hard. My eyes shot open when I heard something topple over and crash onto the floor, and gasped for air as the panic clenched around my chest.
I realize now that I had just punched an officer and he had bumped into the heart monitor, knocking it to the ground. Some of the electrodes were ripped from me, but I couldn't even feel the sting that typically accompanied adhesive being tugged from the skin due to the adrenaline I had coursing through me.
There were hands on my shoulders, pinning me down to the mattress, and I tried my hardest to push them off—I couldn't be restrained again. I couldn't let another person overpower me. "Get the fuck off me!" I hollered, attempting to put my good leg between my body and theirs to get them off of me.
It was no use; they were much stronger than me, and effortlessly held me down no matter how hard I thrashed. I gave up eventually and went limp. All I could do was cry as more people rushed in, and even that was difficult with how hard I was heaving. I couldn't breathe, feeling like the wind had once again been knocked out of me.
Suddenly, I felt incredibly fatigued and my limbs were tingling. I felt like my skin was crawling, and I had the urge to scratch, but couldn't lift my arms to do so. I couldn't even keep my eyes open; my eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and everytime I could open my eyes, everything was blurry. However, I could breathe again, and my heart wasn't beating out of my chest anymore.
A few deep breaths later, and I was comfortably numb, drifting into a deep sleep.
A/N: sorry for the chapter being on the shortish side. I hope you enjoyed 😅
|Chapter 13|
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