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#a mistake or forgetting something is obviously normal
smiletimeisrunningout · 10 months
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4 / 5 / 17 for the munday meme!
@rhogeminid I love you and I'm so sorry that I ended up writing such long answers
Favourite thing about roleplaying?
The cooperative part of it in which we both surprise each other, and not just with each other's muses but with our own doing whatever the hell they want. For example us deciding to have an angsty NO I CAN'T BE WITH YOU thread and then your muses say exactly the right word that makes Emma go 'actually I'm changing my mind' which makes me go WHAT? and then yours says something that makes yours go DID YOU SEE, DID YOU READ, WHAT HAPPENS NOW and then Emma says something stupidly romantic and we are both all OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY CALM DOWN
That part. The part where we left the characters follow their personalities instead of the planned plots and surprise each other, or answer memes in a way that the other person wasn't expecting and hit each other in the feels... and then come yelling at one another? I can't find that in writing fanfiction, though of course people yelling in the comments come close, but it's just... not the same. I can't surprise myself as much and it's more solitary to me than roleplaying is. Having the other person respond whether ic or ooc with some yelling is my favorite thing ever because we are having fun together!
Least favourite thing about roleplaying?
Don't open this box I'm such a salty person.
There are so many things I'm needlessly fight-y about that it's hard to pick the least favorite lol I'd say that I don't like when people don't read rules/about pages, because the roleplay community talks a lot about how we are all a bit anxious/insecure etc to explain why we don't talk much anymore (and btw I am too, but I also know that for anxious people not responding much is one way to reject the other person, so I push through and then give up if the other person never tries to initiate or sounds legit pissed off that I'm writing to them) and yet it's okay to not read rules and forcing a person to have to do the more embarrassing thing of saying, for example, 'I don't want to roleplay with that muse' (to a multimuse) or 'I don't want to ship that because he's mean to her/doesn't even seem to like her' or 'I'm sorry I'm not into that fandom anymore'. Like, I feel way more anxiety and annoyance at having to re-say things I wrote down EXACTLY TO AVOID THAT, because we are all very much socialized to just go along with it, than I do at pushing myself to ignore the thought that I'm annoying the other person if I go to plot with them so that we can actually write. If you aren't 'in the mood' to read long pages don't follow a blog with long rules. A game is only fun when you don't make the other players uncomfortable. And non mutuals trying to rp fall into this category too! Also because if I roleplay with one X character doesn't mean I'll roleplay with all portrayals of X character, or that I want to roleplay with all the muses that the person writing X character has, or with every similar character to X, so just... read rules, people!
Least favourite trope?
Now let's be clear, we are just talking about what's fun to me, there is no moral judgment here because it's just a matter of 'I like coffee you like tea', but the trope where the man 'finally' shuts up the woman who has a loud personality or is fighty or whatever to return to the status quo of her letting him take the lead because he's really good at kissing her or more, and it's clear that she's just yapping but has no real power in the relationship, instead of it being a 'we cooperate and like each other'? I'm trying to stay on the safe side of tumblr right now but... the concept that you can have male characters be stubborn and loud or fun and if they soften up for love it's so cool meanwhile with a woman this trope becomes putting her in her place because ultimately the man must be in charge? Nope. No. I'm not writing any of my female muses as secretly just wanting a man to take the lead, or as being their mindless cheerleaders who just cry if the man does something bad or beg him to change, but have no decisional power. And you have no idea of how many times in the past I've found myself writing other female muses who were way angrier/figthy and the male muse's intention was to in the end prove they were stronger so they'd stop being like that, or expect Emma who is all sunshiney to be just a supporting character. So I guess my least favorite trope is 'one member of the couple is just a supporting character to the other instead of an equal and specifically the woman if strong must learn that she's never going to be the one making the calls'.
I see it a lot LESS around tumblr now though, which is a relief (been here since 2012). It's why I'm so strict with who I interact with and who I ship with even if it's hard to tell nowadays, but I'm not picking any trope that will result in Emma being muted, like her when she's dumb or leave her.
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firelilyfox · 2 months
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Crush
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Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: None / just fluff
You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you
This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)
comments/reblogs are appreciated :]
If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!
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The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.
Only he was there. Paul Arteides.
The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.
You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.
But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.
„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.
Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“
You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“
He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“
„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.
„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“
You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“
A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“
„I liked it.“
His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“
„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“
He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.
Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?
You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“
A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“
„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.
„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.
You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.
„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“
„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.
„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“
„Sometimes?“ You asked.
„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“
You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.
A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.
„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.
Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“
„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“
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yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶
i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)
have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖
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i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...
i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned
mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭
i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔
i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends
i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about
people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled
in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol
the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭
its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭
mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)
i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.
its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!
she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!
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she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"
she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)
she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.
he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.
THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.
she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7
but again, those are the consequences of HER actions
her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭
their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"
its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!
you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)
everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.
obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.
the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"
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she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!
just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.
im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!
im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.
i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!
i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process
talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol
i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭
its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.
all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.
i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.
also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!
thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!
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ckret2 · 11 months
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Okay so I have a theory.
During Bill & Ford's first meeting, Bill says "Care for a game of interdimensional chess?" What's interdimensional chess? How do its rules differ from regular chess? We don't know.
My theory: there's no such thing as "interdimensional chess" and Bill made up the term so he can cheat with impunity.
Ford, The Smart Guy, would be too embarrassed to admit to this powerful otherworldly being that he doesn't already know the rules to interdimensional chess, so he's just playing along like he already knows and trying to learn any different rules from context based on whatever Bill does.
This is exactly what Bill's counting on. Any time he's losing he can do something ridiculous like drop his previously-removed rook next to Ford's king and go "you were so distracted setting up your trap that you forgot to guard your wormhole exit! Rookie mistake!" and what's Ford gonna do but go "right... always forget that darn wormhole... haha..."
However, having now been introduced to the idea that Ford doesn't know how to play regular chess, I'm tempted to incorporate it. Bill pulls some illegal """interdimensional""" chess move, Ford says nothing; then Ford immediately does something that's also wildly illegal.
Now Bill's in a bind.
Does he call Ford out on it?? His plan was to act like he assumes Ford already knows "interdimensional" chess rules, does that mean he has to pretend he assumes Ford knows regular chess rules, too? If he accuses Ford of not knowing regular chess, then obviously, he'll have to teach Ford regular chess, and then Ford will ask for the rules of interdimensional chess, and then Bill's con falls apart. If he wants to keep cheating, he's got to act like everything Ford does is perfectly normal.
And now Bill's lost his advantage. He can't count on Ford being constrained to the normal rules of chess while Bill does anything he wants. Ford has no idea what moves Bill will claim are legal—but Bill also has no idea what moves Ford assumes are legal.
Their chess games are like an 8-year-old lying about the rules so he can always win playing against a 6-year-old who has no idea what the rules are but who likes randomly moving pieces so he can feel involved.
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lucvly · 5 months
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can you do hcs of being chris’ gf and also matt’s and nick’s bff
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— being chris’ girlfriend + matt and nick’s best friend. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: fluff, cursing, suggestive, not proofread.
a/n: i love this omg?? keep feeding into my delusions please and thank you.
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— most times, you help them film their videos. you’re not really in them but they all love it when you’re their camera girl.
— when you’re at their house, you have to hang out in chris’ room, otherwise nick and matt are constantly talking to you.
— sometimes you’ll be in the pool with nick and forget your phone around the house, then when chris comes home looking for you, he just finds you out with nick. (“jesus, i thought you got kidnapped or something.” “by your brother, yeah.”)
— movie nights with chris start off normally, just you two cuddling on his bed and watching a random movie you picked out, but somehow nick and matt end up crashing it. chris gets so pissed because they’re interrupting your date but you have to reassure him that it’s fine.
— you’re always in their photo dumps LMFAOO. most of the time, their comments are filled with “spot y/n challenge go.”
— you and chris can’t have a proper date in his house because nick and matt always crash it. so you end up having to hang out at your place or coming up with outside date ideas (museums, picnics, etc.)
— one time you and chris were making out in his room, you were straddling his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands were on your waist— then suddenly, a loud scream from the door. shit. matt.
— “the door wasn’t even open.” “well it definitely wasn’t shut either, kid.” “shut the fuck up matt.” “dumbass.” “what did you say?”
— sometimes you and chris peacefully fall asleep on call, then you wake up at 3 am because matt stole his phone. he ends up begging you to go to the gas station and get slushies. you do.
— you three have a groupchat LMFAOO chris hates it because matt, nick and you always gang up on him.
— whenever they get in arguments with each other, it’s possibly the worst day of your life. all three of them tell you their side of the argument. (of course you side with your boyfriend, but you appreciate their trust in you LMFAOO.)
— you’ll get calls at midnight from matt asking you to get rid of chris because he’s being extremely annoying. followed up by a call from chris telling you to not listen to matt.
— you go with them on tour obviously. you and chris sleep together despite both of you having your own little bed.
— i feel like chris would be the clingiest boyfriend ever gn, especially if you’re best friends with his brothers LMFAOO.
— you’re always hanging around his house without him even knowing it. this one time he was out for whatever reason and when he came back he found you and matt in the backyard playing pokemon go. safe to say he was confused.
— on a certain occasion, you and chris were baking cookies. after you took them out of the oven, you left them out on the counter to cool down— big mistake. when you came back five minutes later, the cookies were long gone. chris was pissed.
— whenever chris wants to plan some grand gesture or big date, his brothers help him 110%. on one of your anniversaries he filled your room up with balloons and chocolates. like, on an insane level. after the whole celebration you had to call and thank nick and matt for the help.
— despite them denying it, matt and nick think your relationship is so cute. they’re your #1 fans honestly.
— ^ which means they take pictures of you all day every day. chris sends you random ass pictures of you two it’s so funny. (“look at the pic matt took of us lol” “when did he even take that hello????” “idk but we look so cute”)
— chris is head over heels for you and he loves that you have such a good relationship with his brothers. it makes everything a lot easier since you can tag along to trips, tour, and just be with him a lot more.
— whenever chris posts you on social media, he posts the cutest couple pictures. however, the comments always include matt and nick with something along the lines of (“PARENTS” “you’re both disgusting” “get a ROOM”)
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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month
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Little Shit
Alastor x GN! Reader
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A/N: A little something while I work on requests! And Since y’all loved the silly little domestic imagine, here is another! PURELY PLATONIC. Alastor does refer to you as “Little Mouse”
TW:NONE-
Now Alastor loves you (as much as psychopathic cannibalistic serial killer can) but he’s also a little shit. He’s just a silly little creature! 
If you trust him (first mistake) enough or you're on really really good terms with him and decide to tell him your deepest darkest fear (second mistake) oh boy, have fun. Now obviously he’s gonna fucking torture you, he gets a good laugh out of it but if it’s actually like causing you to freak out or physically hurt yourself. He’ll chill out big time. But he will still sometimes scare you. He’s sadistic. You signed up for this.
Like- you have a fear of heights? He’s picking your ass up and putting you on the highest part of the hotel. Don’t worry, he’ll catch you if you fall :). But if you scream at him enough he’ll begrudgingly get you down and bring you to your favorite store/ ice cream shop as an apology! You don’t have to accept the apology because he honestly doesn’t care but he’ll actually apologize to you with a side hug and all!
He also likes to watch you all the time, he has a staring problem AND he’s trying to understand what makes you tick the most. Don’t forget the constant tapping you with his cane, he will do it. Don’t try to threaten him, it makes him do it more. He’s an annoying little brat. You could be talking with a random guest or Charlie and he’ll pop up behind you to tap you on the head with his cane and turn away like he didn’t just do it.
Say you have a crush on someone and tell Alastor, he’ll make it his mission to try and embarrass your ass. Just, “Did you know, my little mouse here, takes a bath with rubber duckies.”  (you do not. He’s pulling shit out of his ass by now). Don’t be afraid to snatch him by his ear and chew him out! You’re the only one who can do this! He’ll do it back so be wise on how hard you tug his poor ear.
Oh boy, if you have a crush on someone in the hotel or even Lucifer. He’s ramping it up and will not stop until you’re red faced and hitting his chest. If you have a crush on Lucifer, he’s lecturing you. No ifs ands or buts, he’s pulling that card. “You can not be serious, Little Mouse. The short one? Look at how well he’s run things-” 
He will pull pranks on you, small things that you won’t look twice at until it happens. Like tuning your alarms to 3am instead of the normal time you wake up. Moving something an inch from where it was so you either trip or stub your toe. Or maybe put salt into your coffee instead of sugar. Who knows. He does.
Once again, he will wrestle and play with you (NOT LIKE THAT YA NASTIES) and he will not be gentle unless you tell him to be. You will end up with bumps, bruises, bites and somehow a cut on your arm. He will also trip you himself so he can catch you, nothing romantic like. I mean he will snag you by the back of your shirt before you're an inch from the ground. Don’t try, he'll evade your attempts.
Will make your food really really spicy and then hide all the milk and ice cream until you beg him. You’re in tears and drooling about to drink all the creamer in the fridge before a gallon of milk appears in front of you as Alastor goes back to serving everyone else NORMAL food.
A/N: Older sibling vibes. Don't let him fool you, he was destined to be an older sibling.
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rad-batson · 8 months
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Damian Wayne: Figure Skater
or: Damian Wayne Fluff Because Damian Wayne Deserves Joy and Happiness <3
Damian Wayne prides himself on being good at everything he does. He never half-asses anything.
Damian has tried tons of different skills before. He’s mastered dozens of martial arts, become fluent in over thirty languages, earned several PhDs, and he’s not even a teenager yet. Why? He needs to be the best or it’s not good enough.
But there are only so many skills that give him the same joy as when he started. Studio art is his favorite and has always been a constant for him, but he’s yet to find something else. Something that truly invigorates him.
At 12, Damian watches the Winter Olympics with Dick. It’s his first ever time viewing the Olympics, and he doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but Damian is…kind of underwhelmed.
Everyone talked about how the Olympics are supposed to be this grandiose display of the world’s talents, but most of it’s pretty boring.
Curling is boring. Alpine is slow and monotonous. Bobsledding is repetitive, and sled dog racing seems unethical.
But then figure skating comes on. And Damian is captivated.
Without even realizing, he moved right in front of the television and watched an hour of figure skating uninterrupted. Dick notices and smiles.
“Aren’t they cool?” Dick asks. Damian, with his eyes still glued to the screen, nods. “Wanna go to the local rink with me and try it out? It’s even more fun than it looks.”
That pulls Damian out of his trance, and he closes himself off. “No. I don’t need to.”
He just thought it was cool, okay? And he totally doesn’t want to try it himself. And he totally isn’t worried that he won’t be good at it and fall like an idiot in front of his older brother if he does.
It’s just that…it’s so cool!!
Damian knows agility, okay? He can do flips and tricks with ease, and he knows how to do it with both grace and poise. But these people? They can do it on ice! With blades on their feet!!
OF COURSE DAMIAN WANTS TO DO COOL TRICKS WITH SHARP BLADES STRAPPED TO HIS FEET
Admittedly, he goes through a two-month-long period of pretending he isn’t dying to try it. He almost completely forgets. Then, by complete coincidence, Cass and Duke invite him to an indoor skating rink, and he caves. Maybe it’s not that hard.
Spoiler: Figure Skating is Hard
Within five seconds, he falls flat on his face. How do people do this? Cass and Duke say it’s normal, but he still refuses to leave the wall the whole time out of shame.
Once they’re home, however, Damian realizes how stupid that was. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul. He can’t just give up! What would the rest of his family think?! What if they go back one day, and he just falls flat on his face again? There’s no excuse the second time, and he doesn’t want the others to think he can’t do it.
So that night, he sneaks back into the rink after hours and tries again. And again. And again. And again.
On the fifth try, he is able to make it all the way around the rink. He realizes that he’s distributing his weight wrong. (Stupid mistake, of course. He’s essentially balancing on knives.) That makes it a lot easier, but he’s still flapping his arms around like a bird.
He spends two more hours improving his balance, then decides that’s good enough. He did what he came here to do, and he doesn’t need to come back.
Two days later, he comes back. (I mean, who knows? Maybe, he’s gotten better.) He didn’t, obviously. But what harm is there in spending some more time on the ice? Other than the collection of bruises he acquires.
He falls way more than he’d like to admit, but once he teaches himself how to do that safely, it’s actually kind of fun. He circles the rink countless times, figures out to start and stop (though it is admittedly a very ungraceful way of stopping.) He can even kind of control his speed.
So he’s done, right? He did it! He can now ice skate to a degree that isn’t mortifying for a beginner. He doesn’t need to come back.
The Short Program
One week and four visits later, he admits that he is hooked. He wants to see how far he can go with this. But he can’t just improve without proper guidance, so he decides to take Tim’s advice for once and use the internet.
That’s when he really starts improving. Exponentially. He pours over articles and videos and diagrams about gliding, stopping, pivots, crossovers, and finally some simple spins. Just basics, of course.
He also purchases his own pair of skates because the rental ones he’s been “borrowing” suck. And they smell. And he forges a membership card (you know, so there’s no paper trail.)
His original goal is to make it to free skate level, but once he’s there, he can’t stop. It’s just so gratifying to add another skill to his repertoire. If he can do front crossovers, then he can surely master them backward. Closed Mohawks shouldn’t be that bad if the open Mohawks were so easy. Before he knows it, he’s spending hours every week developing his skills.
After a few months, his improvement plateaus because the jumps prove difficult. He doesn’t know how to build up the speed, and his stealth and fighting techniques (which he’s been borrowing from thus far) just make him wipe out. So he works on that for a bit and tries to figure out what he’s doing wrong.
During a JL meeting, The Flash happens to mention a rogue who used to figure skate. Lisa Snart, or the Golden Glider, is a famous figure skater from the 90s, but she was kicked from the Olympic team due to her life of crime. Now, she jumps between both petty crime and vigilantism.
Damian tracks her down and claims to be researching the sport for a school assignment. Yeah, it’s a bit thin of a cover story. If she wanted to see through his lie, she’d only have to break into his school and check his teacher’s assignment book, but once he laments about how every other skater is busy, and he was so surprised to learn that she was no longer skating when she’s clearly so talented, Lisa happily tells him all of the secrets to the sport.
For a few months, he applies her techniques and even asks her to skate for him a few times, recording her from multiple angles. “I value the quality of my education,” he explains. She sees through the lie but doesn’t say anything. (And somehow, he doesn’t particularly care.)
In the coming year, Bruce notices a change in how Robin moves during patrol. If he had to describe it…well, there’s a lot more power behind his movement. He redistributes his momentum with ease, which proves extremely valuable. There’s more height to his jumps and speed in his attacks. On top of it all, he can reorient himself quicker.
Bruce praises Damian once they’re back at the cave and even allows him more freedom during missions. Damian totally doesn’t cry about it in his room.
The Free Skate
Damian refuses to let anyone watch him practice for YEARS to save his pride. I mean, yes, he’s at free skate level 5—thanks, Lisa—but he’s not at level 6 yet! And that won’t take too long, right? Maybe they can know once he’s mastered his quad axel (which is a totally doable goal. He’s not overachieving. He’s Damian Wayne Al Ghul.)
Next, he works on transitions. At first, he copies other skaters’ forms, then he slowly develops his own. It’s sharp in some ways and fluid in others like he’s been on ice his whole life but he’s got places to be.
At about 15 or 16, he invites Jon to come with him one day. He shows him “a few spins” (triple axels) and Jon immediately starts encouraging him to join some kind of showcase or competition.
Damian’s response is “No! I’m not good enough yet. I still can’t land a quad axel. That’s insulting.”
Cue Jon’s family-friendly “bitch please” face. He says, “Okay, but you need to show someone else. I can’t be the only person in the world who knows.” so they get Billy in on it.
He’s obviously good at keeping secrets, considering he hid his age and the fact he was homeless from the JL for five years.
Billy also loses his shit, but he’s more understanding about the “I don’t want to tell anyone else” thing. Thus, Jon and Billy become Damian’s cover for every time he’s caught sneaking out. (He was running out of excuses anyway.)
Bruce hears that Damian is hanging out with Jon and Billy every week, gives him a look, and tells him he’s proud that he’s making friends.
Damian nods along, thanking all the gods in Billy’s head that his secret is safe. If Bruce doesn’t have any reason to snoop, then he won’t. Simple as that. The greatest detective in the world doesn’t need to start snooping.
During the next Winter Olympics, Damian watches every single skating performance from the comfort of his room. (Tim can hear him yelling at his TV through the walls but doesn’t have the energy to question it.)
Jon and Billy are his cheerleaders. They go out for lunch then head to the rink with him and mess around while Damian practices. Sometimes, they spend all day together. Doing homework, gossiping, playing fun little games.
Damian keeps mentioning the quad axel to them until Jon looks it up and says, “Um, hey Dami? Apparently, the quad axel is like…almost physically impossible. You know that, right?“ “If Lisa Snart and Ilia Malinin can do it, so can I.” “Okay, Mr. PhD.” Still, they don’t doubt him for a second.
Damian teaches them some stuff during a public skate in Fawcett City. Jon cheats multiple times by floating a tiny bit to keep his balance. Billy falls a lot.
As much as he likes being with his friends, though, Damian finds himself skating more to clear his head rather than to improve or socialize.
When he has a bad patrol or gets into some trouble he could have avoided, he’ll sneak into the rink alone and skate for hours.
He’ll pour all of his frustration into the music and carve it out into the ice until he’s exhausted and lying down with the cold surface against his back, letting it sink some sense into him.
It’s a good outlet. Kind of like his art, but there are only so many pencils you can snap in anger before your dad cuts your art supply budget. Bruce doesn’t know about this yet.
Six months later, when Damian lands his first quad axel in front of Jon and Billy, they all scream for five consecutive minutes and celebrate with hot chocolate and sorbet.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Tim asks when he’s back home. Damian tries to hide his smile but fails spectacularly. “Oh, nothing.” He’s never had a problem with schooling his emotions before, but anything is possible now. Even a quad fucking axel.
Competition Season
During patrol one day, Dick sees Damian spinning on the roof and says, “Hey, where’d you get those sick ballet moves? Did Black Bat teach you that?” Damian immediately stops and says, “Uh yeah.” Thankfully, Dick doesn’t ask Cass to confirm.
At 17, Jason catches him sneaking out at 10 pm and unknowingly opens an entire can of worms.
Damian, too tired to make a good excuse: “I’m seeing Jon.” Jason: “Like a date?” Damian, dying inside: “…Don’t tell Baba.”
At 18, he’s able to reliably land the quad axel and do it with style. It’s almost more gratifying than punching criminals in the face. (Almost.) That’s when Jon and Billy finally bring up the idea of telling others about it.
Damian is still hesitant, but he thinks about it.
I mean, he’s made a lot of progress in six years, hasn’t he? The only other thing he’s spent so long practicing was his assassin training, then his vigilantism, and his art. But this one is special because it’s just his. (And Jon and Billy. Kinda.) And getting to show off to them is fun, especially when he perfects another element, and they got batshit crazy together over it. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Having a few more people to mess around with in the rink?
He just doesn’t know if it’ll be impressive enough. After all, his entire family is great at stuff. Bruce is the world’s greatest detective—how he hasn’t learned about this yet, Damian doesn’t know. Dick is a beyond incredible acrobat. Jason has one of the highest proficiencies in marksmanship ever. Tim is the best bo staff user on this side of the Atlantic...
...And Damian can do jumps and tricks on the ice. Wow, cool. Good job, Damian.
But then he’s twelve again. And he’s sitting in front of the TV watching Yuzuru Hanyu and Yuna Kim do triple axels, and Dick is inviting him to try it out together. And Cass and Dick are taking him to the rink because they thought it’d be fun. And Lisa is rambling about how she misses skating competitively. And Bruce is telling him he’s proud of the progress Damian’s made both inside and outside of patrol. And Tim is telling him he looks happier than usual.
He is happier.
Yeah. Maybe, they deserve to know.
He agrees to sign up for a free skate competition. But not one in Gotham. And only a small one. He wants to test out the waters first. They find one that’s a month away, and Damian signs up.
When the day comes, Damian is shaking in his skates. He did not account for a “small competition” still having over two hundred people watching. What the fuck was he thinking?
What Jon and Billy don’t tell him is that they snuck Dick into the crowd to watch. Dick has no idea what he’s doing there until he sees Damian skate out to the middle in a red and grey top with black pants and matching skates.
He performs to Beggin’ by Måneskin and starts the performance out with his quad axel.
Everyone loses their shit.
He looks so genuinely excited when he’s skating. He completely ignores the hundreds of people watching, doesn’t count points. He just jams out to the song until he’s breathless, spinning and gliding and jumping and turning to the beat, mostly showing off to Jon and Billy like he always does.
When it’s over, he just hears this massive crowd of people screaming, and then overtop of it, Dick shouts, “THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!!” and Damian almost falls flat on his face.
Dick uses the Emergency Group Chat to send a video of Damian skating then screams into the phone to Bruce, who immediately drives out to the rink with the rest of the family, and his siblings make Damian do it over once the place is cleared out because they can’t believe they missed it.
Dick: When did you learn to figure skate?! Damian: After we watched the Olympics together. Dick: You’ve been hiding this for SIX YEARS?!?! Damian: …It looked fun.
Of course, Damian is still the son of Bruce Wayne so tabloids eat it up.
“Damian Wayne: Figure Skating Prodigy” “Wayne Prodigy Wins Gold at Regional Figure Skating Competition, Baffling Judges” “Is Damian Wayne fit to represent the US during the next Winter Olympics??”
A swarm of coaches ask Damian if he would like to skate competitively but he declines. He just likes doing it for fun.
Thankfully, the performance was recorded by the competition holders (after a suspicious request from the CEO of Wayne Enterprises last week. Wow, wonder why)
Leave it to Damian to spend his rebellious phase becoming an Olympic-level athlete.
552 notes · View notes
cher-rei · 2 months
Note
hey could u do a comfort fic with trent alexander arnold where he’s maybe read stuff on the internet about him that are very hateful and the reader comforts him
reflection— [ T.A.A ]
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but I love that man like nobody can [how to disappear- lana del rey]
pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: after his injury, comments start to flood trent's mind and you want nothing more than to make sure he knows that they aren't true.
genre(s): established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff
[wc: 2.3k] masterlist
notes: while I'm writing this I can't stop thinking about cody and the amount of hate he's getting because of the united match. he's human too and the fact that people are going to his instragram and commenting the most horrible things about him and telling him to leave the club genuinely hurts my heart because he's so sweet and doesn't deserve any of this. it's normal for footballers to make mistakes and they have their bad days, but putting them down isn't going to make the situation any better. we're supposed to be supporting the team and not blaming individuals for a loss </3
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it's strange how the people that swear that they're a clubs supporter can switch up on players over something as minuscule as missing a goal or losing a tackle. it's the way players get dragged for making human mistakes, but because of the pedestals they're put on it adds even more pressure.
the comparing of players, telling them to leave their clubs and so much more pile up on the list of hate they get. no matter how good of a footballer you were there was always going to hate thrown your way, chipping away at your self esteem ever so slowly.
trent was headstrong, he knew who he was and hardly took harsh comments and criticism to heart. it was one of the many things you admired about your boyfriend, the way that he was able to be better and prove people wrong so effortlessly.
but he was only human after all, and it was bound to get to him at some point. it was after his first match back after injury that everything happened. he acquired the knee injury against arsenal in january, recalling the exact moment you saw him limping and biting his jersey to ease the pain.
you were in the stands obviously, worried sick but he wasn't subbed off for whatever reason. while everyone was rejoicing the win you couldn't bring yourself to forget about his knee, immediately rushing to the tunnel so you could see him.
trent swore that he was fine but you were absolutely furious that he still played the full 90 minutes instead of asking for the medics to at least check up on him. that was water undet the bridge however, and he was put off for three weeks but even then you felt that it was too little recovery time.
and you were right of course but he was eager to be on the pitch again. you couldn't pass judgement there because of course he missed playing, he felt horrible for being at home and not having any way to contributing to the teams victories. so when they gave him the green light for the match against burnley he was ecstatic.
and you were happy for him, but that didn't push your worry to the back of your mind. and then it went south when he was subbed off before half time because he wasn't playing at his best. the entire time he was on the bench he was silent, his thoughts running wild and his heart heavy with disappointment.
you were watching the match from home so you immediate reaction was to message him, his dull responses taking shots at your heart.
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when he got home that evening your heart shattered seeing him look so beaten up. all he did was drop his bags and come to lay with you on the couch, his head resting on your chest while you reassured him that everything was going to be fine.
trent barely spoke a word to you until the following afternoon when he got back from his physio assessment, in an even worse state than when he left. he was limping, his head hung low and motivation to do anything at its lowest.
you knew that he just needed some time alone before you tackled the situation, so you gave him his necessary space until he was ready to talk. but then the evening came when his side of the bed was empty, and when you checked your phone you were even more surprised to see that it was only 2 a.m.
you got out of bed in panic, immediately rushing downstairs to look for trent but all the lights were off. he wasn't in the kitchen, the living room or even in the backyard. by now your thoughts were running wild, shear panic settling on your chest until you heard the front door unlock.
trent walked in, his lips pursed. "why are you awake?" he took a few steps closer to you, confusion settling on his face. "do you know what time it is?"
a dry scoff left your lips in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing."
he went silent, not knowing what to say except apologise but you were fed up. you gave him his space and kept your worry to yourself, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did but your patience wore thin.
your expression hardened at the recollection of how distant he'd been the past week. "talk to me. please."
"there's nothing to talk about, I'm fine--"
"--that's absolute bullshit" your tone was harsh and it took him by surprise because you rarely raised your voice at anyone, let alone him.
he took a few weary steps closer only to see the tears walking up in your eyes. oh shit, what has he done.
"no baby why are you crying?" he asked soothingly and pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently stroking your back in comfort. his heart sunk at the few sniffles from your side, he couldn't believe that his injury had you crying.
you tightened your arms around his torso, an overwhelming feeling of hurt washing over you the more he comforted you. "because you're hurt."
he sighed. "and I'm getting better. the recovery is going well honey."
you shook your head against his chest. "I'm not talking about your knee trent." you finally pulled away to look up at him with teary eyes, which didn't make him feel any better.
"I know you read the comments, and I know that you're taking them to heart this time but--" you swallowed the bile in your throat, the mere thought of all the hurtful comments having you sick to your stomach. "--but you're not talking to me about it and it makes me feel horrible because they're not true."
trent's heart had just been shattered to pieces, his lips parted in shock because you knew him so damn well. he had been reading the comments, and at first it didn't mean much but the more they came about, the harder it was to push it aside.
honestly the worse 45 minutes anyone had played this season. trent has exited his prime and it's showing.
this is who you guys call the best right back in the league?? have you seen that match against burnley? kyle walker over this dude any day.
he was good until he wasn't. sorry not sorry.
I'm sorry what was that play?? all he had to do was keep the ball for more than 2 seconds. this guy is a joke.
nah get this man out of my club, I can't anymore.
trent my man this is burnley we're talking about. what are you doing??
he's seen it all. and for the first time in years he let the negative comments get to him even though he knew better. and now here you were, standing in front of him teary eyed in the middle of the night because he wasn't man enough to talk to you— his own damn girlfriend.
a heavy sigh disturbed the silence and that was an indicator to you that he was ready to talk. he took your hand and lead you to the couch, making sure that you were settled down comfortably in front of him.
"you know when we played city the away fans were yelling at me when I went to take the corner," he began with a half hearted laugh. "apparently I'm a shit kyle walker."
your grip tightened on his hand instinctively, but you remained silent and listened to him express his concerns and thoughts on the entire ordeal. he brushed the kyle walker thing off and said that he found it rather amusing instead of hurtful.
"but after the arsenal game when I hurt my knee something just snapped I guess. and you were so worried when I got home too so I just wanted to get better because I don't want you to panic over my injuries."
a lump formed in your throat, the tears resurfacing but trent was quick to wipe them away. "and now people are saying that I played like absolute shit against burnley," he shook his head. "which is true by the way."
this was were you grew defensive. "you just came back from injury of course you weren't going to be in the best shape trent."
his eyebrows raised for a moment, a soft chuckle leaving his lips but you didn't find it funny at all. "ever since this whole thing you've been saying my name an awful lot."
that was surprisingly true. you were upset so of course you weren't going to call him something endearing. you were upset!
you cocked you head to the side, a judgemental look on your face that trent didn't want to worsen so he carried on talking. you weren't going to bed until he had everything out.
"anyway," he chuckled. "I've just been feeling really anxious and self conscious because what if they're telling the truth you know? like okay I score goals and I play well but what if that's just me thinking that?"
his breathing had begun to pick up and you were quick to notice, and alarm going off in your mind and telling you that he was nearing tears. trent groaned in frustration and shut his eyes in attempt to push the tears back.
he bent over to put his hands on his knees to try and calm himself down before you started crying as well. your hand was running up and down his back soothingly, only for him to get back up and take refuge in your arms.
everything was finally starting to pool out, and it broke you knowing that he felt this way and hadn't spoken to you because he didn't want you to worry. the dark living room was filled with his silent sobs that you tried to ease until your own started to fall.
you shut your eyes and held trent as close to you as possible, your shirt slightly wet because of his tears. you wondered how the other players felt when something similar happened to them, if they broke down in their partners' arms as well.
it wasn't easy for them to welcome the vulnerability you assumed— especially if it were over something like hate comments. but it was difficult and they were only trying their best.
"It's okay if you cry baby. there's no need to apologise," you hushed when he said sorry. "It's normal to feel this way, you're human too and I can't tell you not to let those things get to your head but they're not true."
his silent sobs came to a subtle halt but his head remained on your shoulder as he listened to you speak so softly, telling him that everything was okay.
"you know what you're capable of so don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. as long as you know that you have people who support you and are rooting for you, nothing else should matter," you retorted reassuringly in hopes that it would help him realise that he didn't have to worry about things he couldn't control.
it was out of his hands, he lead the arsenal match in pain like a proper leader and that showed immense strength. instead of giving up he pulled through and made sure that the team were at their best before thinking about himself.
you put a small kiss to his temple. "I'm so proud of you. every single waking moment of every day, no matter what happens— I will always be proud of you for doing what you can."
this made trent smile when he finally got up to look at you with glossy eyes. "really?"
you nodded eagerly. "you breathe and I want to scream 'that's my boyfriend'."
that got a laugh out of him and he felt his heart strings tug. he loved you so much for standing by his side no matter what, for being patient and for just being you. he was grateful beyond comprehension and sometimes he felt that he didn't express his love for you the correct amount.
you deserved so much and here you were comforting him at the dead of night because he got insecure. his heart was overflowing just for you.
trent put his hand on your cheek and wiped away the stray tear that fell. "I'm sorry for making you worry. if I do it again just kick me out."
you laughed and his heart exploded. "oh definitely. pull a stunt like this again and I'll feed you to the wolves."
his eyes widened a fraction. "okay that's a bit too far."
you disagreed wholeheartedly and told him that it was the only correct form of punishment for the heart attacks that he gave you. "my heart broke like five times in this past week trent, so no."
he hummed and leant in for a kiss. "I'll fix it again I promise."
you felt yourself melt at the touch of his lips on yours— a tender kiss that held so much sincerity and love, an apology slipping through along with a silent I love you.
he pulled away and took a moment to look at you, drinking in every bit of your presence silently to which you hit him on the arm, a giddy smile and blush having you weak in the knees whereas he was mesmerised, not even realising that you had been trying to get his attention for a bit.
"earth to trent," you called and waved your hand in front of your face but he quickly caught it and pulled you closer to him, a yelp leaving your mouth before laughing.
"call me trent one more time and we're going to have a problem," he said through a smile but you just played along, finding it amusing.
"oh really?" your tone was playful and he wasn't having any of it. "well trent wouldn't-- ah!"
your boyfriend had you lying on the couch in a fit of giggles, him hovering over you as he tickled you but stopping every so often to litter kisses on your face which you weren't fighting at all. because everyone needed a little love, right?
227 notes · View notes
iznsfw · 11 months
Text
above the law, (under you)
TWICE's Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader Smut
4,629 words
Categories | lawyer!Tzuyu x criminal!you, thighjob, blowjob
Quick one for TWICE's maknae. Hope you like it.
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The thing about law is that it's actually quite flexible. Forget what your law professors taught you and all those fines the government threatens. If you manage to lie with just a bit of space for truth to distort your falsehoods into, you can get out of anything easily. That's certain, actually, no matter what consequences are inscribed into whatever bible juries and judges have. Maybe you'd only have to spend a few days in jail, probably narrowly avoid a death sentence. 
At least, that's how it works when you've got a good lawyer. 
Oh, yeah, that's what Tzuyu is for. Lucky you.
"So you understand," she says, spreading your files on the desk like it were butter across toast (don't mind the choice of comparison; your stomach is growling), "that it gets suspicious."
Actually, you don't. "Do elaborate."
Tzuyu sighs. She drags a hand along her golden hair. Normally, colored hair in the courtroom would be looked down on, but she's reached that kind of status that it doesn't matter what she does or who she represents—whether she wins or loses the trial for you, she's Chou Tzuyu, and everyone still gives her the deserved respect. 
But with you, the situation is more dangerous. It's a hit or miss with you, and now, the two of you are getting closer and closer to missing.
"You've been in and out of juvie since you were in middle school," she says, one pinky up to count the factors. Another as she goes on, "And you haven't stopped robbery and physical assault since then. You raged in the divorce court, too, so trust me: when it comes to custody of your kid, it doesn't get easier."
Three fingers. Three's the charm, right?
"Well," you curl down the sides of your mouth and raise your hands, "obviously."
Again, you're lucky to have Tzuyu. She's the only one who's paid enough to put up with your bullshit. She's the only one who can get you out of said bullshit. If you said that to anybody else, they'd kick you out, and you know enough already about being excluded and rejected.
That's not to say you feel sorry for yourself, just to be clear. You're too used to this rowdy lifestyle that your own actions don't humiliate you. Neither does the fact that you haven't matured from the age of sixteen. 
In that case, you do feel sorry for Tzuyu, though. She's an intelligent and beautiful young woman. She's only going forward from here on out, but you'll always hang onto the hem of her dress pants like a tail. You're a mistake that no Mongol pencil top can erase, and that's been sealed into her mind long after she accepted to represent you. 
She's the one getting paid anyway. No need to muck over it.
"Did you do it, though?" Tzuyu asks. 
"Do what?"
"Did you beat up your ex-wife's husband in front of her?" 
Honesty is a virtue that only your lawyer is deserving of. So, "Yeah."
Tzuyu pinches her nose. "And the drunk texts?"
"Uh huh."
"The lamb blood on the yard?" 
"All me, baby," you answer. 
You're a bit regretful, to be honest. Not for the fucked up shit you did to coax your ex-wife into getting back with you, but with how you failed to use your own blood to write out "YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MINE, DAHYUN!" in front of her house. But you've already crossed one too many lines.
"You sound proud," Tzuyu notes. "Don't you realize how this can influence the trial?"
Do you? Probably, but you've gone to court so many times, against so many people, that it's become like a second home. The Corinthian columns looming over you don't scare you anymore. Neither do the judge and jury.
Maybe the reason you keep fucking shit up is the need for something to feel?
You haven't felt anything in a long time besides anger. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's why you keep doing what you do despite knowing it can ruin your few good relationships with the few good people who deal with you.
"You can get me out of this alright, Tzuyu," you say. Prop your feet on the opposite plush seat that stands at the front of her desk. "Just lie—you know, it's your job."
"I'm a lawyer, not a magician," Tzuyu says, speaking through her grinding teeth. "I'm not another foolproof way to buy yourself out of consequences."
"That's nice. Got that comeback off searching 'badass lawyer quotes'?"
Tzuyu stares at you. She's really too cute to be in a courtroom, but the way her full lips are set and her eyes glare through your soul make you remember that she's up there for a reason. All these certificates and awards placed on her wall and bookshelves aren't out of nothing. She deserves respect from you because she's still your lawyer, she's still your only way out of going to prison.
"You just… don't care, huh," Tzuyu remarks. "Everything about this is just one huge joke to you."
Her tone isn't far from her usual formal one, but it's mixed with realization, too. She realizes that you'll always be like this. It's not your job or your kids or work—it's you. It's all on you.
"But really," she continues, with a small, bitter laugh, "the funny thing is I actually held out hope for you."
She did? 
You've been waiting a lifetime to feel something that isn't rage. You're surprised to find out that it would happen, and the thing would be guilt.
"I—I thought that if I did everything I could for you," she says, her fists curling tighter to the beat of every syllable, "for you to get away scot-free, you'd actually put some sense in yourself." She smiles sarcastically. "But I was stupid to think that, wasn't I?" 
Everyone's been disappointed in you one way or another. It's no lie that your parents are. There's also a reason why your siblings won't talk to you anymore. But the disappointment riding off Tzuyu's words hurt unexpectedly. It breaks you. 
It also, somehow, angers you. 
"Get out of my office." She points to the door. "I'm done with you."
"No, you're fucking not," you reply. 
Tzuyu's accustomed to your banter and attitude, but that actually stops her in her tracks. She looks at you with disbelief.
Your smile quakes with anger. "We're not done until I say so, Tzuyu."
"That doesn't work on me."
"Come on, let's face it, attorney," you say, stressing the title with false respect. Set your hands on the desk scattered with files and folders. "You like me."
Tzuyu rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, spare me the—"
"No." 
Your steps trace a marble path to the back of her desk, to the place that should be off-limits to you. You never raped or anything, but you remain a criminal, and she remains a lawyer who has to set boundaries. 
However, all boundaries are crossed when you've got her backed up to the edge of her desk, when her pretty face is centimeters away, and your hands are itching to tear the high fashion uniform off her slender body.
It's the first time you've ever seen Chou Tzuyu scared. Her face is set to a poker expression in the courtroom and out of it, but seeing her parted lips and wide doe eyes ignite your emotions. It's new, it's different, and you love it more than you should.
"Come on, Tzuyu," you press, tilting your head to the side. "You know why you want to keep defending me after all the fuckery I did."
"And what can that be?" Tzuyu asks. Her brows are raised.
Another question, you see. This girl really should stop inquiring about things she knows well the answer to, but, graciously, you say it out loud for her. You're a good guy like that. "Didn't I say it already? You like me. Admit it: you're tired of defending guys who at best stole from Walmart. You want the real horror. You want me."
It's all delusions to grope for the upper hand, but you see Tzuyu's eyes. You can read them well from all the time you've unwillingly(?) spent together, you know that her rare expression of vulnerability means something:
You've caught her.
"Oh." Smile. Your rambling holds some truth after all. "So I'm right. Of course you like me."
"Don't flatter yourself," Tzuyu snaps. She struggles to keep eye contact with you. 
"No, no." Guide her face to meet your gaze. "You want some relief. It's not easy being a lawyer, definitely not easier to fall for a psychopath client. But it just happens. You can't control it."
She swallows, looks down, and shakes her head. That's something she's humble enough to admit. "No…" 
"Of course. I can give you what you want, you know."
"I don't want anything from you," says Tzuyu. Her eyes fire an unspoken word of caution to you. "You don't know what you're trying to do."
"For a lawyer," you chuckle, "you're a terrible liar. I thought that was the whole thing with you people."
"I told you to leave already." 
"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," you say, sliding your hands down to her tiny thing of a waist, "until you tell me what you actually feel."
You can feel Tzuyu's breaths accent the rises and rests of her tight midriff. She's contemplating this over, but she knows that she's grown fond of you. You know this, too. Like you said, there's a reason for her staying with you. 
You have to admit you've grown fond of seeing her, too. Her face is more than easy on the eyes. Hearing her as well is an everyday delight; her soft voice is melodious, even when she's describing your crimes. 
So, what's there to say? 
"It's not right," Tzuyu says. The shakes of her head are too repetitive to be sincere. "I can't be biased towards you. I… I have to be professional."
"It's just you and me, sweet," you quip. Step closer so that her body's flush against your form and her gaze can go nowhere. "Live a little. Who cares if it's wrong?"
"My career—" she tries.
"Tzuyu. Come on. Fuck the convict you want so badly. I put you through enough already."
Understanding passes through her eyes, mingled with hesitation and a sprinkle of fear. She wonders, as she peers at your face from a taller height, how you knew about the whole crush ordeal. Was she too obvious? Flirty? Patient? It can be one or the other, and she'd still have to dial it down.
But her heart skips several beats that her words come unrehearsed. Your hands at her waist, so close yet so far to where she needs them to be, trigger her needs. 
So, there it is: she needs you. She has to accept that.
"O-okay," Tzuyu finally agrees. 
"There you are. You finally came around."
"Just shut up and fuck me."
"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Your shameless kisses end up on her neck and collarbone that peek through the ends of her blazer and the neckline of her innerwear. "I know you thought about it, Tzuyu. How I'd bend you over on this desk, fuck your brains out, make you cum more times than you can count."
As you pull the blazer from her body, Tzuyu hisses, "Don't get too happy, dickhead."
How unprofessional of her. But you have to admit it feels powerful to be able to extract the most unladylike of words from a woman who'd never dare utter them. And you're just getting started—she's only sitting on the edge of her desk, and not even filled with your cock yet. 
Your fingers aren't idle. They appreciate her tall curves and the fullness of her thighs. They even slip under that pencil skirt to feel around for her center. 
Of course, you find it. You find it under a layer of flimsy shorts and panties. Tease her clit; have her legs join in attempts to undergo the stimulation. 
And then—
"Oh my god," she whines. Tzuyu purses her lips. Curls her fingers at the cliff of the desk. "Feels so good."
"I know it does," says you. "Why don't you return the favor? Jerk off my cock with those pretty hands?"
Her posture becomes too straight to be proper as you press your fingers at her sensitive pink walls. "I've done too much for you. Y-you don't deserve any more favors."
That's fair. She's still a smart girl, even when she's soaking your fingers. 
Can she be a good girl? To be a good girl or not to be—that is the question.
"You're right. My cock deserves to be inside you, not just in your hand."
The faster pace has Tzuyu's legs jerking. "Fuck you."
Chuckle. "You are."
Maybe you don't need a handjob as a warm-up. Your cock already erects by itself watching Tzuyu react and moan to your digits pumping in and out of her. Her beautiful arms, free from the blazer, struggle and strain to stay upwards with how quick you're fingerfucking her. Her unkempt whines are so unlike her that there's complete pride inside of you, an arrogance, even, that's birthed from the fact that you make her like this. You're so fucked up that it turns her on when it shouldn't, and now that you're fucking her, the immorality of everything gets her wet. 
"P-please," she says. Her doe eyes are watery with need. 
She's never said that outside of the courtroom, where she says that only for formality's sake. But here she is, anyway, begging you for something she'll have to spell out if she doesn't want you to go crazy and fuck her in every corner of her office. 
Maybe that's what you'd do anyway.
"What is it, Tzuyu?" you ask. Your fingers strain while the heel of your hand hits and rubs her clit. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need."
"Please," again, "faster. Oh my god, that's all I ever want, please go faster."
No more do her legs close. Rather, they part. They welcome your thrusts and rubs. She's completely allowing you to fuck her, despite how wrong it is and how it can screw up your future trials. Bias this and bias that are things she doesn't care about anymore. All she knows is that her nipples ache to be pinched, and her pussy awaits more of your thrusts because she's close. So close that she could taste euphoria already.
"Should I go rougher, hm?"
"Please, fffuck, I don't know." As you squeeze one of her handful-sized breasts, she bites her lip hard. "Just fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, make me c-cum—"
When Tzuyu orgasms, it's messy yet quiet. Her formality shows up even in sex. Her moans are tight and so is her pussy as it clenches down on your fulfilling digits, and you have to perk your ears up to hear her sounds of pleasure. She's still a quiet girl, barely talkative (though you've managed to pull a few pleas out of her already), and you're completely trying to change that with your pumps.
Your lips create a purple bruise on her neck. Tzuyu sighs and gasps helplessly. She's wetting your fingers like a flood, and you keep provoking the natural yet woman-made disaster; you drag your fingers at her velvety, weak spots and venture deeper. 
You don't have to ask her if it was good. She's panting heavily, and sucks on the soaked fingers you've led to her face to calm herself down. Watching her pink lips work away at your hand, as if she were suckling something completely different, makes you more turned on. Her warm wet mouth deserves to be somewhere else rather than just your pointer and middle.
"Now that wasn't so bad," you say. Draw them out of her mouth. "You didn't leave any for me to taste. How selfish."
"You still could." Tzuyu points to her mouth. 
It's clear that she's wanted you to kiss her forever. When your lips press against her mouth, she immediately slips her tongue inside. You return the favor, but also to have her own self-made taste of love. 
As expected, she's fucking delicious. 
You hold her head in place as the two of you kiss for seconds that felt like hours. After, you're breathless.
"You're a good kisser," she comments. 
"You want me to tell you what else is good?" 
"Oh, please. Show, not tell." 
Your belt's off and soon, your trousers are as well. Tzuyu's gazing at your hard cock with admiration. It just boosts your pride and arrogance—you can never tell the difference between the two when they mix and match with each other so often.
"No one told me criminals had big dicks," says Tzuyu. She skates her hand on your cock, stroking it softly. Her eyes have left it and instead seal on your faltering gaze. 
"You learn something new everyday." Try not to make your shuddering breaths obvious when she starts jerking you off. "You like?"
"I think… I think I want to suck it."
"Go ahead. No one's stopping you."
"There're a lot of people stopping me," she informs you. "If they find out I'm fucking a client, then what?"
She doesn't live up to her words of concern because she hops off the table cleanly and kneels anyway. Her small face looks even tinier next to your cock. And you realize now how her mouth is miniscule too after she wraps her lips around your cockhead. 
You shiver. 
Tzuyu's staring again. 
This time, her large eyes are directed up at you. She doesn't have to focus on your dick when her mouth is doing it for her. With each harsh swipe of her tongue on your tip and the drawing of her mouth closer to the base, your cock grows wetter with her drool and precum. 
"Your mouth is amazing, Tzuyu," you say. You're not afraid to admit that.
She responds to you not with words, but with more suckling. She closes her lips around your base then slowly brings her mouth up. She repeats this cycle of pleasure until your whole rod is coated with her. When she feels you throb in her orifice, she giggles—what's more satisfying than seeing the guy who put her through hell become weak?
You're in a daze of your own, too. As much as you like seeing Tzuyu dominate the court with her steady voice and no-nonsense look, she looks so much better when she's on her knees. When her hands wrap your hips to thrust her head forward and force your length down her tight throat. When the usually serious look in her eyes fades into obscurity and is replaced with an almost innocent look that says "come on, use me, fuck my mouth."
That's exactly what you do anyway. You don't need her prodding to fuck her pretty face.
Tzuyu's hums vibrate on your sensitive flesh. The back of your cock slides deliciously on her tongue and almost all of your rod slides down her throat. It bulges; you can tell even without looking down. She's a slim girl after all. It's easy to fuck and fold and use her. This situation isn't any different.
"Yeah, that's it," you say, grinning. "Take my cock, Tzuyu. Take it like a good girl."
Her ears burn. Her thighs squirm together, and that's how you find out that she might like being called a good girl more than you'd think. Stroking her hair that looks like it was personally woven with real gold has her whining. You can't believe the tough lawyer has a submissive side, too. 
Has she done this before? She seems to be taking the thrusts to the back of her throat well. Perhaps she simply enjoys this. You'll never know.
"I'm gonna cum, Tzuyu," you announce. "You better swallow it all like the slut you are."
Her cheeks hollow as your cum fills her mouth. Her lips remain sealed on your tip so the flow of your semen ends up nowhere but inside her. 
After you pull out, you realize then that you've just fucked your lawyer's face. It's like everything was a lucid dream that eventually blended into reality, because there's Tzuyu, still kneeling and gulping down your cum, and your cock out in the open between your bare legs. There are lines you've crossed before, but you never thought you'd do the same to the boundary that's been set between you and Tzuyu. 
Where's the rage you felt earlier? Why does arousal take its place?
"I'm not a slut, by the way," says Tzuyu airily. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm not your good girl either."
"Oh, alright. Does that mean you won't let me fuck you?"
"Jerk," she spits. "Your cock isn't even that big."
"I guess I should leave then. You were a good fuck, Tzuyu." 
Turn your heel with faux intention to exit, like she's told you to do earlier, but you're pulled towards her again. She tugs your wrist and pulls you to herself, her ass snug against the edge of the table and you pressed against her slim frame.
Okay, so—
"I fucking hate you." Tzuyu tears the buttons off your shirt with a clean rip, and kisses your chest. Your neck. Grabs your waist to ensure that you're going nowhere. " I hate that you're so fucking annoying. I hate that I can't spend all day fucking myself on your huge cock."
"Did you just say I had a huge cock?" 
"Like I said," Tzuyu snarls, "shut up."
Whatever snarky response you could have come up with on the spot is lost into an embarrassingly loud moan. She's forced your still sensitive cock inside her, and now her hips are dancing forward and back. It's a dance of death with how it bears its weight on your mind and girth. 
"Thought I told you to be quiet," she says smugly.
Her skirt has ridden up her waist. You take advantage of this to get a feel for her thighs. They're slim yet round at the same time, creating the perfect balance that fits your squeezing hands. Tug on them to pull her closer. Your remaining inches make it past her folds, and Tzuyu moans in delight.
"And I thought you didn't like me," you say. But it's difficult to be cocky when her tight little pussy is just that good, squeezing you as if determined to drain your might and taking you good and well. 
Tzuyu scoots her wide hips side to side, arms sedentary on the sides of the table as she rests down on it, and bites her lip. Intentional or not, it's too fucking sexy. "Things change."
So, that's how it works out: your lawyer on the flat of her desk, above scattered piles of papers describing your crimes and issuing your statements, with her legs spread around your midriff and receiving your cock as a traveller in the desert would receive water. She's desperate, is what you're saying—her gasps are timed to the beat of your thrusts, and she's accompanying it with soft curses. This whole sex thing could be a song, you see. Tzuyu can play the vocals, and her cleavage that bounces behind her vest could be looped and made into a matching music video. It's just so perfect.
"So good, you're so good," she sighs, her mind addled with thoughts of you ruining her insides and, probably, fill her up with semen. "Fuck me harder. Touch me. Use me, my god, just fuck me."
You pull up her vest to devour her breasts. The brown nipples end up in your mouth, suckled on and chewed, while the softness of her small tits are relished with squeezes. Tzuyu whimpers quietly, volume hushed down as it always is with her. Although her quiet whines turn you on, it's the will inside you to have the silent lawyer screaming that propels your thrusts. Drives them with a purpose that's so specific your hips could have a mind of their own. 
Dragging her vest off her torso is how you see that your cock is bulging through her tight midriff. The lines of her abs hide not your cock forcing yourself through her hole. Tzuyu notices it, too, and you feel her become wetter underneath you, because she loves it. She loves how wrong this is, how she's letting a person she shouldn't even be acquaintances with outside of her career use her like a doll.
"P-please," she says (for the millionth time, yes, but you'll never grow tired of hearing it.)
"Should I go harder?" Do exactly that, rutting her against the table, even without her answer. "Rub this little thing here?"
Tzuyu cries out. There's a completed mission—you've finally forced her to scream, and it's all thanks to your thumb toying with her clit.
"Oh my god!" she yelps. She looks at you with eyes filled with shock at how good it feels. "Oh my god, yes, keep doing that! It feels so—fuck!"
"Keep screaming like that and I'll make you cum. Do you want to cum, Tzuyu?"
She nods dumbly. "Yes, make me cum. M-make me cum around that stupid big dick, I love it so much, please!"
You're reaching places inside her that her own fingers couldn't embark to. The bulge on her stomach goes farther, and you think of how you're rearranging her guts so deliciously, how she's pounding at the table in frustration and pleasure and screaming, and how you can give her bliss with just a few more pumps.
Your thrusts hold purpose—they're driven by Tzuyu's boobs lifting with the creaks of her desk, the squeeze of her pussy as it swallows you whole, the helpless look on her face. She's so beautiful, really, and you're glad to be able to—
"Gonna make me cum!" she wails. "Gonna make me cum, gonna make me cum, don't fucking stop!"
Tzuyu's pleasure reaches an all-time high. She clenches as hard as her muscles can bear and screams. Her throat must be sore because of that, so you don't forget to kiss all over it as you extract a violent orgasm from her with rough, untimed pumps. 
She's shivering, eyes unfocused. She's rambling senseless words that don't quite give clues to what they should be comprehended as.
That's exactly what you want.
You pull out. "I want to fuck your thighs." Show so after that: slip your dick in between her soft, supple skin, and add, "Gonna explode on that fucking stomach."
"W-why not inside me?" whines Tzuyu. She closes her eyes as your cock unintentionally brushes over her folds and prods at her bundle of nerves.
"You're already fighting to give me custody of my kid," you chuckle. "What makes you think I want another?"
Tzuyu manages a laugh. You're too laser-focused on fucking her thighs though to appreciate her first love beauty when she smiles, since you're as close as you can be. With the soft flesh holding your length captive as you pray for your soul not to be by the eyes of justice, you have no choice but to do what you said: cum on her tight midriff.
White above tan skin is a beautiful color on your lawyer.
"You're… you're a little evil, you know that?" Tzuyu makes out. She glances at the puddle of cum on her rising stomach with fascination.
"Oh, love." Lean down to kiss her, with your arm pillaring the space on the table not occupied with paperwork. "You're just now figuring that out?"
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love-geeky-fangirl · 3 months
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I don't understand where this: "Rory is used to people treating her as the center of the universe." thing is coming from.
She is literally just a normal girl from a small town and in small towns people know each other, hence why the townspeople greet her and her mother and try to find out the tea about them. As someone who lives in a small town, I know how much people there love to gossip, so it is very realistic. Also notice how most of the townspeople paying attention to Rory are either her mother's friends who will obviously have an emotional attachment to her since they watched her grow up or people like Taylor who directly want something from her (to guilt her into volunteering for town events). She is not a town celebrity by any means.
Yes, her family on her mother side loves her and spoils her but that is nothing unusual. People forget that the family on her father's side doesn't love her and they even see her as "a mistake" or even "an embarrassment".
Her teachers seem to like her a normal amount but that's only because she's good in school and stays out of trouble, but you never see teachers fawning over her and let her get away with things when she gets into serious trouble (like missing the test or breaking into school to ring that bell). I don't remember a single instance when a teacher gave Rory some kind of extra treatment just because she's "the center of the universe" as antis love to claim.
And as for her peers, she is literally not popular! She struggles socially at school and we are shown that in the pilot in Stars Hollow high and in Chilton. Her only friend is Lane, other girls in SHH call her a nerd and raise their eyebrows at her, in Chilton she doesn't fit in among the rich spoiled kids and is constantly seen sitting alone at lunch and she is surprised by Dean's and Tristan's attention because it is the first time that guys are giving her any attention! She even can't believe it at first, that's how not used to it she is.
I am writing all of this because a video I watched yesterday breaking down Gilmore Girls season by season said that "Logan's parents are the first people that didn't treat Rory like the center of the universe" which is plain untrue, there were plenty of people before that- the girls from the pilot were taunting Rory behind her back for being a nerd, Mrs Kim doesn't like Rory, girls at Chilton especially Paris hated Rory at first, didn't Headmaster Charleston literally threaten to expell Rory because she was struggling with grades and then threw a fit when she missed her test?, Rory's own father seems very indifferent to her and when he shows up he pays more attention to Lorelei than her, her paternal grandparents hate her and call her "a mistake" to her face, Lindsay didn't like Rory simply because she is her boyfriend's ex even before they started their affair, that guy from the laundry room that rejected her ... need I go on?
So no, Rory isn't some kind of child star or wunderkind that everyone fawns over, she is just a girl that adults around her like a normal amount because she is smart and stays out of trouble, but also keep in mind that when she actually does act out or get in trouble, she falls off the pedestal and people are not very forgiving. It is a double edged sword. But to claim that she is some kind of celebrity or Queen Bee of Stars Hollow is just plain wrong.
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elliesflower · 1 year
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i saw you in a dream [7]
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summary; it's winter break and that guitar has got to go.
chapter; 7/10 2.3k words
cw (per chapter); language, angst, TW: CAT >:(
an; hellaaaaurrrrrr i don't have much to say except ur all amazing and wonderful and thank u so much for loving this story so hard. i love u all more than words. (also sorry not much ellie in this chapter, next chap will be longer and most likely have smut teehee) ((also this isn't proof read so sorry if there's weird mistakes i'll go back nd fix later ok love u bye!!))
Your last interaction with Ellie had you feeling pretty defeated. You had thought that maybe you were getting somewhere—but now, with Cat in the picture, you were ready to give up.
“I’ll fucking kill her,” Dina threatened when you explained the whole story. You shook your head, laughing. “Seriously, she has no right to fuck with your emotions like that.”
“Dee, it’s fine. I wouldn’t call it ‘fucking with me,’ either. Relationships can be messy and break ups are even messier. You of all people should know that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare even mention that disgusting, vile creature,” she pretended to gag at the thought of her ex. All the verbal abuse she had to endure, you’re amazed she lasted so long with them in the first place. “But seriously. You guys had a vibe. That was fucked up of her to not even mention it. It obviously seemed like she was intentionally keeping it from you.”
You pursed your lips, looking down at your hands as you picked at your cuticles. 
“I don’t know…” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders. You wanted to believe that Ellie wouldn’t do that to you. Realistically, you understood you barely knew her—the two of you had spent less than a full day together. Maybe it was silly to think she was letting you see her heart.
“No, no, don’t do that,” Dina pointed a finger at you accusingly. “Don’t do that hopeless romantic shit you always do. I’m telling you how it is.” 
“Okay, and maybe it is,” you agreed. “But—”
“Hello?! No ‘but’s!’ You need to forget about her. You don’t want to get tangled up in that mess, trust me,” she was speaking from experience, and you knew this. You wanted to believe Dina was right. Who would want to be caught up in lesbian ex-girlfriend drama? And yes, the lesbian part makes a difference. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline of a new crush—the yearning to be in a relationship, so strong you feel like you’d do anything, anything to be with that person, no matter what they’ve done, no matter what they say. Lust can be dangerous.
“Okay, okay,” you gave in. “I’ll leave it alone.”
Dina squinted at you curiously. She probably didn’t believe you, but it didn’t matter. You knew she had your back, always. She’d never do something you weren’t okay with, and she’d forgive you if you did go crawling back to Ellie. Which was still very much…up in the air. 
“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, but it wasn’t very definitive.  
The next few days were…weird, to say the least. With Christmas quickly approaching, the amount of people on campus slowly thinned out—Dina included. She was heading east to be with her family for the holidays, which left you alone in your dorm for a few days. You spent most of the time aimlessly scrolling on your phone, confirming next term’s classes, and making last-minute holiday plans with your own family. It was all very…mundane. 
Which is a weird feeling; your outside life being so normal, while your brain was scrambling trying to make sense of your feelings about the whole Ellie situation. It had been over a week, and she hadn’t texted. Neither had you, but you weren’t sure what was left to say. You wanted to side with Dina, leave Ellie in the past and let Cat have her. 
But the other part of you—the hopeless, yearning sapphic—wanted to reach out. Every time you saw a short-haired redhead from the back, your heart rate increased. It was a little pathetic, if you were being honest, the way your heart fell when they’d turn around and it was not in fact Ellie coming to reconcile. It made you want to call her; want to see her; want to see if the two of you could really become something, after all; want to know what else spilled from her lips when she was high, and anything else she’d give you. 
It sure didn’t help that everytime you walked into your dorm you were stared down by the guitar you were really regretting buying instead of renting. Now that you didn’t have a….teacher, anymore, you were sure it’d just start collecting dust over there in the corner. 
“Fuck it,” you mumbled to yourself one day after you’d been staring at the case for far too long, deciding you were going to take it down to the student store and see what they’d offer you for it. 
The weather was bitterly cold, but it surprisingly wasn’t raining. You zipped your coat up all the way to your chin, readjusting the guitar strap over your shoulder as you walked across campus to the store. Today was the last day it’d be open before they closed for the holidays, so naturally the store was eerily empty, aside from the two students working behind the counter. 
You let your fingers trail across a few cute embroidered journals on your way up to the counter, where a very unenthusiastic student turned to greet you. 
“What can I help you with?” They asked flatly, resting their elbows on the wooden counter that separated the two of you. 
“Uh, I was hoping to see how much y’all would give me for this guitar,” you explained, hoisting the case up to the counter and unlocking it. Upon flipping the top, the worker gave out a low whistle of appreciation. 
“Has it ever even been used? It’s in perfect condition,” they said, grabbing the neck to pull it out and examine it. 
“Uh, just a handful of times…I took the class for one semester,” you explained, one hand subconsciously rising to rub the back of your neck sheepishly. 
“And you didn’t just rent one?” 
Okay, well damn. 
“Wasn’t thinking, I guess…” There’s nothing like a stranger confirming what you already knew to make you feel even worse about your initial purchase. They gave you an amused smile before leaning the guitar against the back of the counter.
“Give me a minute to run some numbers,” and luckily, they didn’t mention your stupid purchase again, and retreated to a computer. You leaned over the counter as well, pulling out your phone to mindlessly scroll. The electronic door chime sounded from behind you and the other employee shouted a greeting across the store. You didn’t pay it any attention until you heard a very distinct voice respond.
“Oh my gosh, it is freezing out there!” 
Your whole body tensed, your grip on your phone becoming tighter as she started to chatter away—of course her striking presence had the other employee out of their seat, smile plastered across their face as they made their way over to continue chatting with…her. 
Of fucking course. 
The whole point of coming here was to get this little part of Ellie out of your room—and now, an arguably bigger part of Ellie just came waltzing through the doors. You made it a point to keep looking at your phone, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of your attention. Even though she definitely had it, how could she not? Her voice was sickeningly sweet, even though it somehow made you feel sour, resonating over the quiet music playing in the store.  
“Elliott, you are such a riot!” She laughed from behind you. Her vernacular was straight out of a sixties romance movie, and you wondered briefly if that just added to her charm. You’d known girls like her—you know the ones who have to swear up and down that they’re not like other girls, when in reality, they are like clones roaming the earth. They all have the same cadence, the same attitude, the same god complex. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to be so blissfully ignorant. 
“Alright,” the clerk said after another grating minute of you trying to remain undetected. “This is the best I can do for you.” They at least had the decency to look apologetic as they slid you a scribbled note. You blinked down at the number. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled. The offer was less than half of what you originally paid for it. Not that you were expecting a miracle, but this was a little insulting. “You said it was in perfect condition…”
“I know,” they agreed, putting up their hands defensively. “There’s only so much I can do. I have to go by the school’s policies.” 
You frowned at the note for a moment, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and never sign up for that stupid guitar class. Or even if you did, you wished you’d never seen that stupid flier on that stupid tree on this stupid campus—maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck with your heart in your throat, choked up listening to Ellie’s ex-girlfriend slash roommate filling up the room with her stupidly charming personality. 
Wait a second, did she leave? Her voice disappeared, and the second clerk was returning back behind the desk. Maybe you should—
“Oh, c’mon,” she was peering over your shoulder in an instant, invading your space and making you flinch. Her floral perfume overwhelmed your nose, her black and silver bracelets tinkling as she examined the note on the counter. “We can do better than that, no?” Her arm was pressing your bicep, she was so close to you, you could hear her breathing and see her perfectly styled hair framing her sharp cheekbones. You were so taken aback by her boldness, by her invasiveness, you found yourself nodding.
She looked over at you, and her teeth were like pearls, shiny and probably not real. You just blinked at her, acutely aware that your expression was most likely not very kind. 
“Look, Cat,” the clerk started, and of course they knew her name. “You know I have to follow university protocols for these kinds of things.”
“C’mon, Dakota,” and yeah, of course she knew their name too. “There’s nothing you can do? For old times sake?” She leaned onto her elbows, resting her chin in her hands with a dopey look on her face. Good god, is this a joke? If so, it wasn’t very funny, because Dakota was now suppressing a grin, grabbing the paper off the counter before glancing at you briefly. 
“Let me see what I can do,” they smiled, returning to the computer. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Not that it would make much of a difference, anyways. You were pretty much invisible until Cat showed up anyways. 
“Well, that’s more like it!” Cat grinned, crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the counter, facing you. “Nice to see you again, by the way.” An afterthought. 
You forced a smile back, your deeply embedded people-pleasing outweighing your disdain. 
“Cat,” you went straight for the formalities. You wanted to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. “Likewise.”
“You left so quickly last week I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye!” She exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulder. It was like she was from another planet. “Ellie’s been talking about you.” You really hoped her otherworldliness didn’t give her the power of supersonic hearing, because she may have heard your heart fall into your stomach at the mention of Ellie’s name. But perhaps, she still did anyway, because she was cocking her head ever so slightly, crossing her arms over her chest again. 
“Oh, yeah I wasn’t…feeling great,” and it wasn’t a complete lie. You’re amazed you didn’t throw up all over the both of them the minute Cat got all handsy with Ellie. Cat still looked at you sideways, like she was waiting for you to respond to her comment about Ellie. No way she was talking about you with Cat. It had to be a ruse. You chewed at your bottom lip nervously, averting your gaze to fidget with your hands rather than be trapped. But she wasn’t giving up.
“Well, she’s been going on and on about how she was so happy she could help you pass your final,” she said, and half of her words were punctuated with a hand gesture. Your heart wa thrumming in your ears.  “She said you were a quick learner and so eager to play guitar. I just didn’t take you for a quitter, the way she talks about you!” 
Talks. Present tense. Fuck, she was good at this. 
“A quitter?” 
“Well, you’re pawning off your guitar,” she said matter-of-factly. You furrowed your brow, but quickly let it smooth out. 
“I never planned to play guitar long-term. Ellie knew that.” Or at least you thought she did. Cat was making it really fucking hard to tell what was real or not. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before she was standing up straighter and shaking a few jet-black tendrils of hair from her face. 
“Well, then,” and she was no longer holding back. Her eyes very blatantly scanned you, up and down before she continued. “Let’s see what we can get you for this guitar then, yeah?” 
And as if on cue, Dakota returned to the counter. They walked straight to Cat as if you had never existed in the first place. 
“Alright, how’s this?” He slid the note over, and the number was significantly higher. You felt like a second class citizen. You were fuming—not that they would notice as they looked into each other’s eyes like they were Romeo and Juliet or something. How is it that Cat can weasel her way into everything that’s yours? 
Hah. As if Ellie was ever yours.
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when they (try to) surprise you
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includes: the brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .5k | rated g | m.list
a/n: i meant to fill a req but my computer updating threw a wrench in those plans lol, so you get this, which i wrote on my phone
please like and reblog!
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already beginning to take off your coat, you walk through the door, glad to be home early. it’s not often that your classes get canceled, but when they do, it’s definitely nice.
immediately, noise coming from the kitchen stops you in your tracks. it sounds like several, if not all, of the brothers are in there, talking over one another and banging things around.
it’s even weirder that it doesn’t sound like they’re fighting.
why would they be in the kitchen, and by the sound of it, working together on something?
quietly, you creep towards the kitchen. once you can finally see in, you stifle a gasp. it’s a complete mess! it seems like every mixing bowl is out on the counter, and flour dusts practically every flat surface. there’s also a smear of something—raw egg, maybe—across the fridge. how did that even get there?
“what in the world are you guys doing?” you ask, and they all jump, turning to face you with a mix of surprise and guilt written across their faces. hastily, asmo tries to hide a bowl behind his back, but you can totally still see it.
“mc!” beel chuckles nervously. “what are you doing home? i thought you had a class.”
“i did,” you say slowly, still completely astonished by the mess, “but it was canceled.”
“that must have been nice,” lucifer says conversationally, and you level him with a look.
“it was, until i came home and found this mess i’ll have to clean up.”
“you’re not going to have to clean up!” satan says quickly.
“yeah, this is our mess,” mammon agrees.
“that’s never stopped you before,” you reply, long-suffering. “now again, what are you doing? and don’t try to lie.”
they all exchange looks before levi sighs. “well, we were trying to bake me a cake.”
“a cake?” you say, surprised. “why?”
“there wasn’t really a reason,” mammon says, scuffing his shoe across the tile, “we just wanted to. and thought ‘how hard can it be?’”
“but it turned out to be pretty hard,” belphie cuts in. “so obviously we had a lot of mistakes.”
“so all of this is because you wanted to bake me a cake? which you wanted to do just because?” you ask, wondering how many years they’re taken off of your life. but you’re also sort of touched. they’d wanted to do something nice for you just because!
“look,” you say, “i’ll pretend i never saw this and go upstairs. once that cake is done and everything is cleaned up, you can come get me.”
“deal,” satan says.
“oh, and before i forget,” you continue, “thank you all. i’m sorry i ruined the surprise.”
“yeah, yeah,” mammon says, flapping his hand. “now get away, we’ve gotta finish up in here.”
“i’m going!” you huff, unable to stop your smile. they, upon seeing it, can’t help but sport smiles of their own, and when you go up the stairs, your heart feels fuller than normal.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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vespertiliosworld · 2 months
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Monster Au! König x Reader(4)
English is not my native language, I apologize if there is any mistake.
Previous Chapter
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It was quite difficult to get used to the human body. Being 170 cm above the ground on two legs was not easy. Your body was constantly shaking, and when you tried to walk, you kept falling to the ground like a baby gazelle.
König enjoyed watching this. You were wearing his t-shirt, no matter how big and tall you were, it was like you were wearing a huge sack. It stretched to your knees like a dress, and the scent of König's t-shirt made you feel as comfortable as if you were at home.
Speaking of home...
König can't keep you on base any longer. That's why he brought you to his house, which was empty, emphasizing that he lived as a single man. Bare light bulbs, only a couch and a television in the living room.
Since he is always on base, he does not come home much or pay attention. But he didn't forget to go shopping and buy a few things for you. Clothes, blankets or other necessities. He think everything.
He didn't bother to buy you a new bed because he has king size bed (He is a big man, of course a normal bed is not enough.), you can sleep in it, right?
Your big bunny ears perked up in curiosity when you first saw the surroundings, and your tail was moving with excitement. As your scent begins to spread, the beast inside König begins to tame. It's as if something he's felt missing for years has fallen into place.
This house is not as magnificent as the house you lived in before, it is not as opulent, but it really feels like home. You tried to get used to the house for a week or two, tried to cook while König was away. You've been successful too, obviously you're qualified to be a little housewife for König.
Your bare feet were making noise as they hit the ground because you still didn't like wearing socks. This was the noise that caused König to wake up. He's a soldier, and a captain, and it's normal for him to wake up to your little sounds.
He lifted his head from the pillow to see you staring at him with the coffee cup in your hands. "Hey, good morning!" you said excitedly.
"Morning," he said in his deep, raspy voice. Since he was not in the habit of sleeping with a t-shirt on, he took his naked body off the bed and grabbed the coffee. As he swung his legs off the bed, he reached out and put his thick hand on your waist. He quickly pulled you into his lap, holding his coffee cup with his other hand. He reached up and placed a kiss on your neck. "Such a good girl, did you make coffee for me?" he said while mocking you.
You giggled and shook your head. "Yes." You had gotten quite used to him as you snuggled up against König's chest. "Do you like it?"
The corners of his lips turned up as he took a long sip of hot coffee. "Yes, it's nice, little bunny." he said.
Maybe living with him wasn't so bad, you can get used to it.
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weebsinstash · 11 months
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Every day I get closer to writing the "You vs YouTwo trying to steal your identity in the Spider Society" fic (which, the fic even has a name as I slowly build it, I'm calling it Imposter Syndrome because, you know, 1 Reader is starting to get depressed and feel unneeded even before YouTwo comes along and 2. Well. It's self explanatory)
But anyways I keep thinking of all of these dramatic interactions and scenes (shit I was listening to John Mulaney stand up just to write dialogue for Peter Porker, for funsies) where, thinking of either Reader being kicked out of the Spider Society and such, and them having to literally hunt you down and search for you, but. What if YOU came to them?
It's been like 3 months since you "died" after the Society mistaking you for your double and removing the dimensional watch that kept you tethered down, and there's a palpable air of depression. Spiders go to the training room you used to teach your classes in and leave flowers and mementos and share stories of their times spent with you. Maybe they even do something fucking dramatic like set up a memorial, like a plaque with your name and photo or something, but, something to help remind them to be wary of who they bring into the Society and appreciate the ones they have and so on so forth, and also like I imagine there were Spiders who were so attached to you that this entire incident makes them leave the Socety for good (like maybe Hobie equates the way you were exiled to fascist tyranny and hates Miguel more than he already does for letting it/helping it happen, for example)
But, anyways, months later, but not too terribly long for them to stsrt to forget about you, just enough time for the guilt and depression and the longing to marinate, and some Spiders are hanging out in the food court, Peter B and Jess and some of the others managing to drag Miguel out of his lab to eat and be around other people because he's just been holing up by himself almost 24/7 since you "left". Dude's a fucking mess, man, you can literally just look at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, the unwashed hair, the body odor because he fucking lives in that suit, and half the cafeteria is wondering if he's about to start crying into his stupid silly ass Miguel burger and
*FWOMP*
Some loud ass undescribable noise as the fabric of the universe suddenly shifts and, you glitch right back in and slam down on the floor besides their table. The entire room freezes as they literally had no idea you were still alive as you scramble to your feet, the first thing you notice being the food as you DIVE for Miguel's burger, snatching it right off his plate and beginning to absolutely devour it like literally gobbling that shit as the man amd everyone else is AGHAST. You've lost a significant amount of weight (like, an unhealthy amount for the time that has passed) and you're covered in bruises and scratches with tears and holes all over your suit. Your hair has knots and tangles and your Spidey suit is beyond dirty with a raggedy jacket and a tattered backpack on your body. You've just been constantly bouncing in and out of different dimensions, ricocheting all over the place this entire time, which made it hard for you to eat, sleep, bathe, do just about anything normally. One minute you're trying to swipe some food from a market because you have no money, the next you're glitching again and you're lost in an apocalyptic wasteland, or a thick jungle, or even places where shapes and colors don't operate the same as we can even comprehend it
You're constantly dropping the food because your hands keep glitching but you're clearly obviously starving, and Pavitr hands you his chai to help wash everything down, but you still pick up several beverages on the table and absolutely chug them as your friends are just stunned into silence, still in shock, quickly morphing into all kinds of different emotions. Joy you're still alive, horror and pity for your current state, guilt and anguish that all of them did this to you. Jesus, have you even been able to drink water? Like if you didn't have Spider powers you probably would have died by now and it's easy to see you're weak on your feet
And from here I see two options and I'll go with the less exciting one first:
Reader is so fucking hungry and malnourished and weak that after the Spiders make room for you to sit at their table and eat their food, you being just genuinely so fucking worn down from constantly not being able to eat and sleep properly, that you basically show up, eat the entire table's worth of food, and all but fall into a food coma right then and there because this is like the first time youve been able to sit and mildly relax for WEEKS, like here comes Spider Plushie for the save like he's trying to slide across home base, loyally stopping in front of you and directly under your head as you just kind of, slump forward, the little guy making the perfect pillow as he keeps your forehead from smacking against the table, and you're just, like O U T out as Miguel cradles you in his arms because, oh my god he thought you were gone forever, and he won't let anyone else touch you as he marches you straight to, wherever the fucking doctors in this place are
But option TWO: suddenly you pause your gorging as some burps rise up in your chest and you suddenly have some calories pushing enough energy to your brain that you finally look around, like REEEEALLY look around. The entire room is dead silent, some starting to cry with joy and relief, others still stunned, many looking absolutely confused, and your eyes eventually meet with Miguel's. He doesn't look quite as run down as you, but WOW is this one sad haggard looking dilf, and you blink at him for a minute. And then look around. And back at him. And around. And to him
And your expression morphs into something so fearful as you force out a nervous laugh, "oh, wait, it's... you guys..." And the second everything clicks for you, you're IMMEDIATELY TAKING OFF, and despite your weakened state you actually make them really work for it because wow that adrenaline kicks in as you for your life because you're thinking "shit they still think I'm the fake and they'll kill me this time if they get their hands on me" when in actuality Miguel is getting his ass on the intercom system ordering all available units to stop you so they can put a bracelet back on you so you aren't lost again, which i mean it is but isnt even a yandere thing at this point, youre literally going to die without some sort of dimensional tether. But during the chase Miguel realizes you aren't using your webs, and you're actually not nearly as fast as he's seen you before, and he realizes with a broken heart, oh Jesus you're literally too malnourished to produce your organic webs within your body, or a lot of it, anyways. You must REALLY be in bad shape
And I imagine like, the chase comes to a halt, not when they catch you, but when your physical exhaustion finally catches up to you. Sweetie you barely ate anything for the last several days, suddenly gorged on a whole spread of food, and then started sprinting and jumping and climbing and parkouring on shit. You HAVE to stop running because you're literally getting sick and VOMITING, like, your former students and fellow Spiderpeople and of course Miguel are hot on your heels and they all pause and give you space because you're literally having to throw up in a gutter with sweat pouring down your face and entire body developing the shakes as, oh no, you feel your strength leaving you as you can't even hold yourself up, collapsing onto the ground, barely conscious as something scoops you up with the gentleness of handling glass, your eyes unable to stay open as you whimper things. "Please don't kill me... I'll leave... I'll never come back..." before you pass out
Miguel has you immediately checked by doctors while the staff have to limit the amount of people trying to come and see you (because, uh, there are a ridiculous amount of Spiders invested in your wellbeing) and only he's in the room as the medical team details your current state. Severe malnutrition, sunburns, broken ribs, a finger or two in crudely-improvised splints, telogen effluvium aka temporary hair loss from illness/extreme stress, you're probably starting to come down with a cold of some sort, potentially something dramatic like pneumonia.
You sleep for like several days straight while hooked up to IVs and fluids because your body just needed to heal THAT badly. By the time you wake up you feel like you're rising from the dead, your entire body aching and heavy, taking minutes to blink yourself awake to take in your new surroundings. You've got a private medical suite that's pretty well-secured, and when you try to scratch a sudden itch on your nose, you feel a weight on your wrist after going to move your arm. Oh, it's another kind of watch, although this one doesn't have nearly all the features and buttons of the first one, and when you keep rotating your wrist over and over, you can't seem to find the latch to take it off, because, well, there isn't one
Miguel is already in the room with you, either having been working on a laptop or just legitimately sitting there watching you sleep for an unknown amount of time, even if its completely dark in the room. He's gotten himself all cleaned up and back to normal and looking like his old self again but he's honestly not even sure what to say to you. Emotions aren't really his strong suit? Where does he start, apologizing for this whole mess or promising it will never happen again?
The only guarantee for now is that you will NOT be leaving Nueva York again, or even so much as leaving his SIGHT, so long as Miguel doesn't want you to, and trust me, after being tricked and having you ripped away from him, to see you in such a vulnerable sad state because of his own actions when all he wanted was to protect you, he's got a whoooole lotta things he wants to do and talk to you about. First and foremost? Vowing that he's going to make everything up to you, starting now, by being your most devout protector
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popp1nstaxr · 9 months
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❝My Doll❜❜ BG
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Content: Smut, nsfw, sexual content, profanity, enemies to lovers, fem! reader, about stimulation.
Preview:
«You and BeomGyu have been something like enemies, you can't stand each other and every interaction ends in a fight, strangely, many believe that you really have something in common, more often than not as simple nonsense, your surprise will be great when you realize how real all those rumors that run about both are»
My first language is not English, I'm sorry if there is any mistake in the writing <3
Reblog and Like for more!! >.<
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This is definitely not what I had planned for today.
I had decided to go out with my friends to the cinema. It was a sunny day according to the forecasts, and I hoped to have a good time and forget a bit about the tough times and stress of University. But to my surprise, around noon, it started to rain, and the intensity kept increasing. Can the forecast be wrong...?
And everything just got worse from there. My parents called saying they couldn't pick me up, and that's fine, but I hate taking the bus when it's raining. Waiting at the stop wasn't exactly pleasant; if you weren't careful, you could end up completely soaked in dirty water because of reckless drivers speeding through the wet streets, causing the huge puddles by the side of the road to splash onto you, and it's not, precisely, pretty.
I sighed as I waited for the bus, cursing myself for believing in the "nice weather" and not wearing weather-appropriate clothes. If I had known, I would have even brought a coat for the cold.
I watched as an elderly lady stumbled on the wet pavement, and almost immediately, I ran to prevent the accident. While helping the old lady, I saw the bus pass right by me.
I said goodbye to her and nodded as she thanked me, immediately running after the bus, "Wait! Please!" I shouted, hoping to make it stop in the pouring rain. But my shouts were in vain, and I soon stopped, completely drenched.
My blouse clung almost instantly to my body, and I cursed myself for wearing a black bra underneath it. It was clearly visible, in addition to the raindrops trickling down my bare legs and how much my skirt clung to them.
I wanted to cry.
That's when an expensive blue car stopped beside me—or rather, it was moving slowly along the road, as if strolling with me. The window rolled down, revealing a smirk that was both mocking and charming, oh, of course, I should have expected that it would be Choi BeomGyu, the only jerk who loves to show off his father's money from that company.
I completely ignored him, rolled my eyes, and kept walking.
"Hey, gorgeous. Are you sure you don't want to get in? I don't think rain is your strong suit," he said, laughing a bit as I heard him unlock the car.
I had two choices: to get in and dry off or to die of hypothermia from the cold.
Certainly, I'd prefer to die of hypothermia, but BeomGyu's annoying insistence, constantly chanting "get in, get in, get in, get in" while honking the horn from time to time, was getting on my nerves. So, I decided to get in the car.
Once inside, I observed him in more detail: his long hair and those few blonde strands made him look quite attractive, not to mention his penchant for wearing oversized hoodies from some rock band—My Chemical Romance, to be specific— and blue jeans, sometimes ripped or normal but equally baggy, adorned with chains and some rings on his hands.
Shit, if he weren't such a jerk, I'd let him mistreat me in five different ways.
"I see that today definitely wasn't your lucky day. Thank the universe that such a kind guy like me decided to save a damsel in distress like you," he spoke and smiled, glancing briefly at my legs, something I obviously noticed.
I raised an eyebrow, curious about that, and chuckled softly, but I didn't say anything about it.
His perfectly defined, pale, and large hands adorned with some silver rings and others with chain rings were expertly handling the steering wheel with incredible agility; you could tell he was a guy with skilled hands.
"Ugh, I only agreed because you're annoying, otherwise, I would have preferred to stay on the street," I replied, looking out the window. I heard him laugh ironically, but he didn't say anything.
"Yeah, whatever. Take my phone and look up your home address. I decided to be kind just for today, so don't provoke me, sweetheart," he said, his voice becoming more serious. I just rolled my eyes; he always tried to act superior to everyone, which was quite irritating.
But I didn't say anything and decided to obey, taking his phone and unlocking it for him. "Password," I said, and when he stopped at a red light, I saw him smile and chuckle a bit. It was almost as if he enjoyed the fact that I had obeyed him without complaints.
He snatched the phone from my hand and used his fingerprint to unlock it, opening the GPS app, then handed it back to me.
I searched for my home address and handed it to him.
He nodded. "Hold it for a bit, doll, so I can see," he said. I nodded and complied again.
Maybe it was fatigue, but all of this was quite strange. I feel like something was missing between us, something that never fails whenever we talk.
Oh, right, the fights.
Half of the journey was in silence. I don't know why, but I truly believed it would be annoying, as it usually is back at the University. However, I don't complain about the tranquility.
Suddenly, I glanced at the GPS and realized that BeomGyu had taken the wrong turn. "Oh, BeomGyu, you're going the wrong way. My house is that way..." I spoke to him, and he just nodded.
"I know, it's just that there's a store nearby, and believe me, I can't stand seeing you in that state anymore. I need... to cover it up," he said. His voice sounded a bit husky, and then he cleared his throat.
I looked at him, confused. "That state?" I repeated, puzzled, and then I observed myself. Of course, I'm still drenched... this, certainly, amused me. Who would have thought that Choi would succumb so quickly to temptation? I really wouldn't want to sleep with him, but it would be fun to tease and provoke him a bit.
When he parked the car and I saw him taking out his keys, I decided to act. We were in an underground establishment, and there weren't many cars around. I suppose it would be fun to play a little with his desires.
I let out a sigh and walked as quickly as I could to sit on his lap, BeomGyu seemed surprised and confused "What the fuck are you doing...? Get off" he spoke with a frown, I just nodded, but I ignored him, even climbing higher on his legs, riding his member almost as if it belonged to me.
"What will you do if I don't want...?" I murmured while I began to leave playful little kisses on his neck, that's when I felt one of his hands brush one of my thighs, a very light touch that spoke volumes.
"Trust me, for your sake, come down now." He ordered, his voice hoarser and more demanding than before, I ignored him again, continuing with my lips on his neck, beginning to slowly move my hips on his member, creating an exquisite sway, I allowed myself to let out a sigh against his skin when I could feel almost immediately his member under my butt and smiled, I had achieved my goal.
I stopped my movements and tried to get off his lap, but I felt his big hands hold my hip tightly, preventing him from trying to move if I wanted to. my hips on his member, making the movement from before even more exquisite "Now you have to take care of what you woke up princess, and I don't want to see complaints because then it will only make you worse, hmm?" I heard him speak against my neck, his voice was completely demanding and I shuddered when he let a slow lick from my shoulder to my jaw, his hands released my hips to almost immediately take my thighs and squeeze them with some force, spreading my thighs even more. legs as if he wanted to make way for his cock to be between my pussy still with clothes on. I could see how his fingers left small purple marks on my thighs as he moved his hands up to my rear and squeezed lightly.
I couldn't help it, in less than seconds I was already a mess of sighs under him and he hadn't even touched my most sensitive points.
I heard him laugh hoarsely "You totally fell for my game, Y/N. I really could have left you at home to avoid my temptation, but I didn't resist and I needed to test you, making up the cheapest excuse. This store is closed on Fridays and the store they leave it open to the public, so, darling, you didn't play with me, I played with you and believe me, I'll take all of you right now" he spoke as he massaged my buttocks and then gave a slap that made me cry slightly "but, Shh, it's okay. Silent beautiful, I wouldn't want them to take us out of here in the middle of the act because you can't contain your dirty slutty sounds" he added later to start leaving hickeys on my neck, while his hands went up my entire uniform skirt and cheekily touched my behind, while another of his hands went straight to the buttons of my blouse.
He was already letting go, he sighed with each touch and bite he gave, I tried to hold back the little cry that threatened to come out of my throat when I felt his hand squeeze with tortured exquisite delicacy as he unhooked my bra.
"Move your hips" he ordered seriously and with his hoarse voice, with one hand taking my hips and guiding my movements while the other played with my breasts, he brought his mouth to one of them and began to suck and play with his tongue on the tip of my nipple. "G-Gyunnie..." I whimpered his name at the pleasant sensation, but I couldn't be satisfied, I wanted more, I needed more from him.
He separated his mouth from my chest and made a few hickeys under each of them, before licking his lips and looking at me with a leering smile "Yes, Baby Doll? Remember to be silent my love, I see you completely a mess and still I haven't been able to try my fingers on you..."
I nodded, and released a content sigh "I need... I need more" I barely murmured, and stopped the movements that guided my hips. "Further..?" He asked smiling and I nodded.
"Fine, but for this I need you to be obedient, yes my love?" I nodded. "Let's go to the back" he ordered him and I without saying anything went to the back seats, BeomGyu followed me and sat on the seat. "Get on your knees in front of the glass, don't worry, they're tinted windows" I nodded and obeyed, I appreciated that the back seats were quite wide "place both hands on the glass my love" He ordered again, his voice strangely sweet.
And in that position, I heard how BeomGyu removed all his rings from his hands and left them on the front seats of the car, to then feel how his hands slowly went up behind my thighs towards my butt, then lowering my panties and raising all my skirt, exposing my entire ass to him, he hit him and I let out a small moan between pain and satisfaction "Shut up, little dolls don't talk" and automatically bit my lips to make silence.
My breath quickened when I felt him play with the entrance of my butt, brushing his fingers there "Be quiet" he asked sweetly again and I nodded, when I felt two of his fingers penetrate my butt without warning, stimulating there by removing a Little his fingers inside me, I bit my lip so hard to avoid moans of so much satisfaction that I drew a little blood, soon he began to penetrate me with his fingers and my already wet pussy felt it throb, while my behind it tightened around his fingers, damn it, he needed his cock.
He chuckled "look, how needy you are of me, isn't this beautiful doll?" I heard him say when he took his fingers out of my butt. "But... we'll leave this here for today, you still don't deserve my dick"
I widened my eyes in surprise, was he really going to leave me like this? No, no, no, you can't, he refused me.
I immediately settled back and watched him, noticing that he was cleaning the liquid that I left on his hands to put the rings back on "W-will you leave me... like this?" I asked with some disappointment, he just laughed and winked at me.
"I have to go buy things, you fix yourself up. But it was fun to see you so... miserable in front of me, my marks are now all over your body..." he spoke and smirked.
"You said it was closed on Fridays" he accused, annoyed, he really couldn't be more of a son of a bitch.
"Oops, double deception cutie" he said with amusement and got out of the car, leaving me there in my mess.
This was a fucking robbery.
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elmhat · 1 month
Text
// dsmp rp
@sam-and-dream-week day 7 — "forgiveness"
It was quiet in Pandora’s Vault. Head up, fingers twitching, Dream walked just a step behind Sam through the halls of his prison, sweeping every crack and doorway for traps, threats, or anything else he could have missed on his first pass-through during Sam’s imprisonment. The warden of this building was a dangerous man, and Dream refused to make a mistake more than once.
The first time Sam walked past a door without comment, Dream’s guard was immediately up. “Wait, what’s this?” he asked.
Sam stopped. His mask was off now, and Dream’s back in place. “Uh, that’s just my room,” Sam told him lazily. “I never even used it, really.”
Dream chuckled; he wasn’t sure what to make of that. If it was a lie, it was a weird one. “Well, I mean, I want to go in anyway.”
“Oh. Sure. I guess.”
This door was unlocked by keycode. Dream watched Sam’s fingers move over the pad: 7,8,4,2,3. He could remember that, Sam wouldn't have to tell him. Dream was good at remembering things.
The room was bare, but there was at least a bed, well-made and shoved into the corner like a relic from a time long past. Dream approached it, and with a bare hand, he patted the pillow. It was soft. Hardly used, most likely. He thought about all those nights Sam must have spent in this place.
“You didn’t use your own bedroom?” Dream asked him.
Sam, confusingly, tried to backtrack. “No— Well, I mean, I didn’t sleep here much, I— I tried not to. But when I did, I just. Y’know. I mostly just stayed by the main cell.”
“What? You— what? You mean, like, you brought a bed in there?” It was a hilarious thought. Dream wished that the lava had set the bed on fire.
“Not a bed, obviously,” said Sam. “Just a chair sometimes, or I just stood.” The more he spoke, the more defensive he sounded. “It’s not like I was always there! Y’know, I have a house. It happened maybe like twenty times at most.”
“I mean, twenty times is kinda a lot,” said Dream. “And why were you even staying there? We were literally in the same building anyway, you’re really that obsessed with me?”
“It was whenever you needed medical attention,” Sam growled through gritted teeth. “I couldn’t just let you die.”
Weaved in between the anger, Dream imagined that he could hear care; like Sam was watching over him at night out of compassion rather than Dream's monetary value. There was a time when that had been normal for them. At the community house, when they took turns keeping watch while the others slept. When they watched each other’s back transporting the elder guardians the long distance to the prison. A single unit, they had been. One brilliant mind.
Dream hadn't spoken in a while now. Sam wasn't speaking either. If there was ever a time to say it, it was now.
“Do you regret it at all?” Dream asked.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Regret keeping you alive?”
“Regret letting me almost die.”
Dream studied Sam’s face for anything he could latch onto, and he realized with a jolt of horror that although Sam had always worn that stupid mask before, it hadn't been hiding anything. There was nothing on his face. He was empty.
“I regret not going far enough,” was what Sam said.
And that was crazy. That was a crazy thing to say to the guy with the power of life and death over you, and it was crazy that Sam didn't care. Something cold settled in Dream’s heart, a weight heavier than just his armor.
He had never wanted to forgive, but he had, in some small way, wanted to forget. Sam wouldn't give him that. So now, only now, could Dream see the truth—there was only one way to forget. There was only one way to continue, to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving fucking forward. He understood that now.
“Okay,” said Dream, and he nodded.
They left the room together, footsteps on stone, and the prison was quiet. Dream’s fingers brushed his pickaxe.
~
[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 ]
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