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muddyorbsblr · 8 days

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ill-intentioned "compliments"

Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)

Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)

Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining

"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.

"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."

He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."

"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."

"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."

Your words took him aback. "Truly?"

"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."

You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"

"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.

Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.

"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.

"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"

"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"

"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.

"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"

"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"

Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."

"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.

"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."

"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Or kiss you.

"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."

For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."

A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

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Might I request an enemies to friends to lovers with Astarion?

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LITTLE DRABBLE. IT IS ALMOST 4K WORDS. It also became a songfic. The song is "Your Stupid Face" by Kaden MacKay

Also it is 11:20. I am so tired. I do not have the energy to proofread this rn. So it's as good as it's gonna get

Warnings: self-doubt, bickering

Word Count: 3,957

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I just really hate your face

Though I know that won't surprise you

But, to me, your skin is one giant wart

And your laugh's one big snort

And you stink, so in short

I despise you

You disgrace the human race

'Cause you're more of a mosquito

I would rather have the dentist and drill

Then this swine in the swill

And if you were a bill, I would veto

And if the world was perfect, you would be gone without a trace

But since the world could never be that great

I'll just hate your stupid face

Astarion sighed just behind you. You glared over your shoulder at him. Did he really have to be so annoying when you were trying to help? What did he have against doing the right thing?! Or were all high elves as up their asses as him?

The little girl glanced nervously between you, her hands fiddling anxiously with each other. “I-Is that alright?”

You turned back to her with a big smile, though Astarion could see the strain behind it. “Of course! It’s no problem. We’ll find your toy and bring it back before nightfall, how’s that sound?”

“Really?!” Her eyes became wide and excited, bouncing on her feet like there were hot coals beneath it. “Thank you so much!”

You watched as she ran off back to her mother, jumping as she grabbed the woman’s arm and pointed at you. You smiled, genuine this time, and waved to them both. Then, you turned to go back into the woods.

The joy didn’t last long.

“I thought being an adventurer meant slaying dragons, learning powerful spells, gaining power - that sort of thing.” Astarion sighed again, long and dramatic, as he stepped over a branch. “But, no, here we are, armed to the teeth, tadpoles crawling into our minds, looking for a stuffed animal.”

You grit your teeth together and tried to ignore him. The sooner you found the girl’s stuffed bear, the sooner you could stop listening to his whining. “She said she lost it over here, somewhere, but something could have taken it or moved it by now. If we split up, we can cover more ground.”

You could almost feel the way he rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. If I find it, I’m not telling you. And I’m certainly not going to touch it. Gods only know what’s on it.”

“You’re such a child!”

He lays a hand over his chest, looking down his nose at you. “I’m so sorry that I have some dignity left.”

How did you get stuck with such an annoying, self-entitled, brat?

“Fine! Then I’ll look, and you can follow me around like a lost puppy.” You smiled sickeningly sweet up at him, your whole expression filled with sarcasm and annoyance. “Happy?”

He scowled. “And I have to follow you because…? If you’re so eager for my company, you should just say so, darling.”

You shook your head, facade falling. “You’re impossible.” You stomped off. He could follow you or wait around, you didn’t have the energy left to care.

—

Oh, no

I just really like your face

You don't have to look so happy

I'm not really into love that you flaunt

In some glittery font

But if that's what you want

Make it snappy

I just feel so out of place

Well, except for when you're near me

When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root

Or a song that's on mute

Don't you dare call it cute!

You should fear me!

And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space

But since the world's obsessed with saying, "psych!"

Now I like your stupid face

You tilted your head, watching as Astarion held up a mirror. The tadpole kept him from burning in the sun, but it did nothing to bring back his reflection.

“Looking at something?” His voice catches you off guard. It was odd to have someone talking to you with their back turned, even more so when he could see your reflection and you couldn’t see his.

“Just looking,” you tell him. “What are you doing?”

He sighs, forlorn. “I’m looking, too, but not seeing very much. Another quirk of my affliction.”

“Do you miss it?”

He stands and turns while he speaks, finally meeting you face-to-face. “Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He sighs again. His face looks so droopy and sad, like a puppy left out in the rain. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You look at his eyes, really look. It was hard to picture him with any other color. It was a side-effect of his vampirism, but you could go your whole life believing they always were and always had been red. “What color were they before?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past.” His face scrunches up in rage as he throws the mirror on the ground. You step back to avoid the shards that break from it. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can’t imagine forgetting your face. It’s a rather big portion of who you are, after all. Thinking about looking in a mirror and seeing nothing stirs your stomach like a witch’s brew. You study his face, eyes tracing over every curve and sharp edge and wrinkle. You tried to imagine being him, no longer able to see what you looked like.

Astarion frowns at you. “What?”

“I’ll be your mirror.” The words are out before you can even think them, but a spark of hope flickers in his eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to back out of it now. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” He pauses. His voice gets soft, lacking its usual bravado. “What you see.”

He waits as you look at him. You try to figure out what the world sees, versus what you see. The world may see his eyes, sharp and red and keen. The world would see his dangerous smile, full of pretty teeth and sharp fangs, threatening to bite.

But it’s not what you see. You see his hair, paler than freshly fallen snow. You see the way it curls around his ears, how there’s always one stubborn strand hanging by his forehead. You see the wrinkles that crease his face when he smiles, surrounding his mouth and crowding in the corners of his eyes. And you’re startled, trying to figure out how long ago you’d noticed these things about him.

“I see… the creases when you laugh.”

He sneers, placing a hand over his chest. He takes it as an insult when you mean it in the kindest way possible. Without his wrinkles, he wouldn’t be Astarion. “Excuse me? I’m an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother.” He huffs. He looks like he wants to stop - never mind what he looks like, he doesn’t want to hear what else you could possibly say. But he continues, “You can do better. What else?” The curiosity wins out.

You wonder if you should tell him the easy answer. Tell him what the world sees. What everyone else sees. But to do so feels like a huge disservice. You inhale, prepared to be scolded once more. “I see the way your hair curls around your ears.”

“This is meant to be flattery, not poetry.” He sighs, creases forming between his brows as he frowns, annoyed. “Just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”

“Is that all you want?” You don’t mean to sound as angry as you do. “Shallow praise?”

He scoffs. “Hardly.” He begins ticking off fingers. “There’s also gold, sex, revenge - quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”

You shake your head. “What I see isn’t good enough for you then? The seductive, charming face you put on for everyone else - that’s what you want to know about?” He sneers. He hates how easily you’ve read him. And you hate how much it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s because your words mean nothing, or because he can’t even allow himself a single, beautiful flaw. “The world sees your eyes. They’re strong and piercing. And your smile: Dangerous. They see you for the monster you are. Are you satisfied now?”

You leave before he can answer you. Anger trembles in your fingers, but they’re weighed down with sadness. A conflicting bundle of emotions twists in your chest. You shouldn’t care if all he wants is to be called pretty and move on. You shouldn’t! And you don’t!

But you do…

—

I just really miss your face

Though, by now, I must disgust you

I had tried to be the stubbornest mule

'Cause I knew life was cruel

So I guess I was foolish to trust you

But I wait here just in case

Though I know I'm being senseless

How could I have ever been so naive

And wear my heart on my sleeve

When I knew it would leave me defenseless?

And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace

But since the world denied me one last kiss

I'll just miss your stupid face

The sun burned. Truly, honest to gods burned. And he ran. What else was he supposed to do? Bake in the sunlight while everyone else said their teary goodbyes, “We’ll see you down the road”, yadda yadda?

But, he can admit when he messed up.

He should have stayed longer. By the docks. The sun was just beginning to rise, he had plenty of time to slip from one shadow to the next before it was high in the sky. He could have said his goodbyes. He should have.

Already he missed Karlach. He fondly remembers when she hauled him over her shoulder, jostling him about as she ran. He certainly wasn’t too pleased at the time, but now… And he missed her nickname for him. And the banter, and teasing, and… everything.

Everyone had their charms, he supposed. Gale was, well, Gale, but even he wasn’t too bad. And you.

It was hard to admit. He could say he missed the others all day, but you? You who dragged him into the woods to find a stuffed animal for a kid? Who begrudgingly let him have a sip that night he revealed himself? Who yelled at him when he couldn’t bear hearing anything other than he wanted to when you offered to be his mirror? Who hugged him after he killed Cazador? Who helped him save his brothers and sisters and all the other souls whose lives he ruined? Who smiled so sweetly at him?

He couldn’t say it.

After he ran away, cursing and damning the gods for confining him to the shadows again, he disappeared to the Underdark. You’d mentioned how they needed a leader, guidance. And, well, he had nowhere else to go.

He never got to see you run in the direction he left after saying your goodbyes, smiling and excited. Or watch as you search and search for him. How you shout his name. How tears well in your eyes as you realize he’s gone.

And maybe it’s better that way.

—

What are you doing here?

I didn't run away!

It was... it was a strategic retreat

What is there to talk about? It's over—I ruined it

Well, yeah of course I'm sorry, but

No, no, don't forgive me!

Why do you do that?

Why—why give me another chance to mess things up?

Because you—what?

Those three little words

Out of the blue

Completely uncalled for

Especially from you

Why don't you hate me?

Why do you care?

Can't you berate me? Isn't that fair?

Where is your glare?

Don't you dare leave our problems and pain on the shelf!

Because if you don't hate me, I can't hate myself

But that's why I need you

You shatter my fear

'Cause despite my misdeed, you are still right here

Though it's stupid to date me

You're willing to try

And if you don't hate me, then why should I?

Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?

You're a moron

The last thing Astarion anticipates is you barging into his home, stomping and angry. The next last thing he expects is for you to throw a cloak in his face. He backs up as fast as you approach, tripping and falling backward over an armchair. It tips back with him and he lands with a thud. When he pulls the cloak off his face, you’re standing over him, still just as pissed as before.

“Ah.” He grins sheepishly. “Hello?”

“You ran away!”

“Yes, yes, I know-”

“You ran away! I went chasing after you and you were gone!”

“The sun! I couldn’t-”

“I know! That’s why I went and got you that damn cloak! And I was going to give it to you on the docks, but you ran away!”

He struggles to get up, grunting as he tries to push the armchair off so he’s not bent in half. You huff and sit the chair upright. Then, you offer him a hand. He’s not sure if he should take it. He’s half-certain you’ll flip him over and crack the floor with his body. But you wave your hand, insistent, and he does not want to piss you off any more, so he takes it. You haul him to his feet.

He holds the cloak out in front of him, studying it with a frown. “Darling, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but clothes don’t actually protect us from the sun.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” You sigh, hands on your hips, but you seem to have cooled off some. “It’s the Cloak of Dragomir. Gale helped me find where it was hidden. I figured, if the tadpole is the only thing keeping you safe in the sun, then after it’s all over, you’d need something else to protect you. So.” You gestured at the cloak.

He was speechless, and perhaps a bit skeptical. It had already been several weeks since the docks, and every day he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Basking in the sun. Lounging in her warmth like a cat as he sleepily flipped through a book. It sounded too good to be true - a simple piece of fabric that could prevent him from turning to ash?

“Are you sure it works?”

You laughed, airily and annoyed. “No, I had a shortage of vampires to test it on at the time. I was going to find out when you tried it on. If it didn’t work, well…” You let out a long breath. You refused to take your eyes away from the cloak. Like looking at him again would bring all the rage and frustration back. “I’m still in touch with Gale. He can help me look for something.”

He spun it around to look at the back. It was a deep purple, with the only remarkable feature being a sort of fur around the neck and shoulders. He could almost imagine it hanging up in a shop.

You cleared your throat. “Put it on.”

“Hardly the best place to test it. The sun doesn’t exactly reach down here.” Still, he unclasped it and swung it over his shoulders.

It was light and breezy, allowing air to move through, but warm enough it kept away any chill - not very concerning for a vampire, but still a nice feature. It reached mid-thigh. He shifted around in it, testing its movement and fit. He bristled when he felt something brush against his arm.

He lifted up the edge of the cloak where he felt it, and his undead heart stopped all over again. There, messily embroidered on the lining in gold thread. Little Star. A poor imitation of embroidered stars surrounded it, forming a sort of faux night sky.

“I did that.” You clear your throat and scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes everywhere you looked. Every time you glanced back at him and his dumbfounded face, your cheeks heated up. “I know it’s not as good as yours, but, you know, I thought it was the best way to get a message across.”

His chest was full of emotion. He still had a hard time deciphering it all, even after so long of you carefully teasing them out. But through it all was one resounding question.

“Why?”

You finally made eye contact with him. You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this can’t have been easy to get your hands on. You could have sold it when I ran away, but you embroidered it, sought me out… Why? Let’s be honest, dear, we’re not exactly friends.”

“We’re not exactly at each other’s throats either.” It came out harsher than you meant. You took a breath to calm your nerves. “I know we didn’t really get along when we first met - hells, we still argued about everything under the sun with the slightest prompting, but I do care for you.”

His lips quick up slightly. “An unfortunate choice. I’m not exactly the easiest person to care for.”

“No.” You smile, soft and patient. It was hard to look at you now and connect you to the person who barged into his room moments ago. “But I want to. You’re worth the effort.”

—

So you think that we could work?

Here I thought I'd been the dumb one—what?

You're forgiving me for all I did wrong

You're unmuting the song

And, again, I belong to someone

No! You can drop the stupid smirk

Though by now I guess you've earned that

'Cause no matter how intensely I pout

Your stupid face will win out

And I guess it's about time I learned that

And though we go together like a Chanel Nº 5 and mace

At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove

'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of

But I suppose that when push comes to shove

Fine!

I love your stupid face

You tugged Astarion through the city, releasing short apologies left and right to any early-risers you bumped into. He’d tried asking multiple times where in the hells you were taking him, but you never answered. You just shot him a bright smile over your shoulder and kept on running.

Before he knew it, you were at the docks. A light orange hue lined the edge of the ocean, signaling the sun’s appearance. He frowned. “You dragged me all the way out here to watch the sunrise?”

“Yes.” You squeezed his hand. Your eyes were wide and bright and filled with overwhelming glee. “You never got to see it last time you were here. But now you can!”

He scoffed, a grin teasing at his lips. “Darling, we could watch the sunrise from anywhere. We don’t need to be exactly here to do so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, no, but it��s more about the principle of the thing. You didn’t get to see that sunrise and say goodbye, but now you can.”

Red eyes scanned the horizon. Oranges and yellows flooded from the ocean-line, chasing away the dark blue of night. He couldn’t deny it was beautiful, but…

He swallowed, frowning out at the sea. He couldn’t look at your face as he asked, quietly, too afraid to actually put the words out there, “So this is goodbye?”

The edge of the star poked her head out. He’d enjoyed watching the sunrises and sunsets during your adventure. He would welcome her touch onto his skin every day, grateful for even just a brief moment to be able to feel her warmth again after 200 years. And every night he would mourn her loss, a seed of fear planted deep within that any sunset could be his last, before he would be contained to the shadows forever. He never got to savor the last one. The one time he wasn’t prepared to go gracefully into that night.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you whisper back. If you hear the shuddering breath he lets out, you don’t say anything. If you see the tears building at the corners of his eyes as he turns to look at you, you don’t point it out. “I can stay. With you. If you want.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” But I wish I could. He wants nothing more than to be selfish. To take every single scrap you offer him and give nothing back.

You release his hand only to better tangle your fingers together. Your thumb runs along his palm. “You wouldn’t have to.”

“You’d be living in the shadows most of your life, even with this,” he lifts the edge of the cloak to make a point.

“Okay.”

“You wouldn’t be able to go on adventures. You wouldn’t be able to find someone else, have a family, live your life.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you so willing to give up everything for me?”

You raise your free hand to his cheek. It’s haloed by the red-orange light of the sun. He hates the way he leans into it without a second’s hesitation.

“Is it so hard to believe that I’d stay because I want to be with you?”

He opens his mouth, shuts it again, and tries to find the words. Strained, he chokes out, “Yes.”

“My lovely little star, even without the cloak, I’d stay in the shadows with you for eons. Adventure would be empty without you by my side. There is no one else I could bear to put up with besides you.”

He takes a breath and closes his eyes. It’s hard for the words to sink in, but he urges them to. Staying with him would not be a burden. He is not a burden. He holds your hand to his cheek, pressing it tighter against his skin. By the time he opens his eyes again, the sun is halfway risen.

“I’m not good at… this. Whatever this is. I have no idea how to do anything more than what I had to do. I have no idea what will happen.”

You smile. “Now that sounds like an adventure.”

He chuckles. The knot in his heart loosens. When had you turned from an annoying thorn in his side to this? How long ago had you wormed your way into his soul? What would he do without you?

He feels like he’s just been thrown downstream - caught in the current and waiting for it to burn. He’s uncertain as he leans forward slightly, experimentally. You let him come to you; you wait patiently and smile at him encouragingly until he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

The sun warms his skin as he lets go of the guilt holding him back. He’s a mess. He’s still working through his emotions with Cazador, trying to find footing amongst the spawn in the Underdark, trying to be good enough. And here you are saying he already is.

He catches your lips and allows himself to forget for the briefest moments that this is a terrible idea. How can he possibly think this is wrong when you sigh into his mouth and pull him closer? How can this possibly be wrong?

The reds, oranges, and yellows fade from the sky. Bright blue dominates the sky. And everything is okay.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @chesb0red

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iridessence · 8 months

Text

I would like to take a moment to acknowledge myself and say that I am elated and proud to have manifested some of my major goals since 2018-2019. Basically before then, 2014-16 I struggled with depression and suicidal ideation quite frequently due to not having steady income, as jobs in retail seemed the only available and “safe” options, but long shifts standing at a registers or posts were damagingly hard on my body. In 2017 I got a desk job that set me on the path of financial stability and reduced physical load, which did absolute wonders for my mental health but it was an absolute blight to my existence over time due to terrible management and the usual corporate garbage. I knew that staying there was fine for a time but not sustainable in the long run, so change must come eventually.

also around then, I continued to explore self portraiture and personal style but I really wanted to perform/create Burlesque acts and book them, and invest in and actually have choreography/technique and beautiful costume pieces that looked like the visions refining themselves in my head through research. I was also perpetually struggling in the dating sphere with the deficit of romantic fulfillment that I deeply wanted. and while they weren’t hostile, things were definitely weird with my family (dysfunctional, literal small town energy, upset that I didn’t want to be around them more in the suburbs but lots of interpersonal toxicity and lack of emotional growth).

I knew that in the coming years I wanted to…

quit my soul sucking job and set out to be a full-time or at least professional level burlesque performer, creating the qualitative and classic show girl acts I dream to see on stage

work on the floor at a boutique or mom-and-pop type shop that sells goods or services that are interesting to me, especially aesthetically, such as an antique shop or a jewelry boutique etc., but a place where I could sit intermittently as needed for my physical disability. Also, ideally it would be a position where I could express myself through style at my choosing and it would be received well, and also my hours would not be very early or very late.

find a loving and supporting partner who I could lavish equal amounts of love and support on to, live with and hopefully marry

Achieve/maintain financial stability enough that I have a reduced risk for homelessness and sometimes treat myself to things that I enjoy.

Figure out why the relationship with my family was such a struggle and do things within my power and desire to fix it.

In a world that isn’t a corporate machine devoid of empathy, none of that seems like a tall order to ask… but I live in America so… It took some time, but I’m starting to see the fruits and returns. Honestly sometimes things feel like a blur and I’m not exactly sure I could say there was a huge system to what I did overtime to make it work, but I know the work was there.

As of today, September 9, 2023:

I am a respected professional burlesque performer with costumes I figuratively gag over and acts that come closer and closer to hitting the aesthetic nail on the head for what I want to embody. (I quit that shitty desk job at the beginning of 2019 and haven’t looked back since. Sent a whole ass company wide message with a long and detailed “fuck you” too.😂🙈)

i’ve managed through burlesque, social media work, donations and savings, and —since the global pandemic—,odd jobs and grants/minimal loans, to continuously pay rent and ward off homelessness

I live with the love of my life, to whom I am engaged and actively planning our wedding (we looked at a venue yesterday!)

I’ve helped my mom on the growth of her emotional intelligence and commitment to learning more about values under the race, gender, and sexuality umbrella, as well pushed her to examine the enabling and entitlement dynamics with her adult children that take advantage of her. While my relationship with my brother and sister is not great, my relationship with my mom has been steadily getting better since the pandemic. we had a breakthrough at the beginning of this year where she acknowledged and apologized for guilt tripping me for not being around the family more, when I was (she quoted) “actually protecting myself like she should have been.”

and litcherally within the past week I was offered the job at a local boutique I interviewed with a year ago and didn’t get, and I signed an offer letter to begin work within the month.

To say I’m happy with the way things look right now is an understatement. The world still terrifies me, but I have no choice but to carve out a sliver of its beautiful experiences for myself, and I am doing just that. It may not be perfection, but it’s pretty damn good and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep it that way and make it even better. I am living my ancestors' wildest dreams!!

for anyone reading who might be struggling right now to make things work, I hope you hold on to hope that it can get better. A beautiful life is possible even on this hell scape, even for the marginalized.

#text post #life #faq #long post #well long-ish

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musings-of-miss-j · 2 months

Text

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part six: in which you wrangle out information about the doctor's segments, discover a library and obtain the favour of its obscenely wealthy resident

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: is the burn even burning. slow burn, gn neutral reader who is occasionally referred to as 'miss', smart-ass reader with just a sprinkle of social anxiety and a healthy dose of skepticism

warnings: blood and organs. are we even surprised at this point

series masterlist

as always, let me know if you find any pronoun slips!! oh, and friendly reminder that reblogs help circulate my work much better than likes <3

word count: 4628 words

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“They are not clones,” he replied dismissively. “Have you nothing to say to explain yourself?”

“In that case, how precisely do you define them?” You prodded, all anxiety at your lateness forgotten in the face of this engrossing new mystery. “I’m assuming you created them. How, if not by cloning?”

The Doctor crossed his arms and stared you down. You gazed back up at him, resolute and unmoving in your curiosity. You looked different today, he noted; you apparently still hadn’t found your cloak judging from the fact you were wearing Childe’s, damn him,and the shadows under your eyes were more pronounced than usual. He frowned behind his mask. Had you not gotten enough sleep? Perhaps he shouldn’t have kept you in the lab so late; after all, sleep deprivation would make you more prone to committing foolish blunders in the vicinity of his precious experiments. He couldn’t have that.

“My segments are none of your concern,” he said with an air of finality.

“Doctor, as your apprentice, am I not entitled to having any questions outside my realm of expertise answered by you?”

Oh, you devious thing.

With a dismissive wave of his gloved hand, the Doctor swept past you towards the reflux apparatus he set up the night before.

“Provide an acceptable excuse for your tardiness, and perhaps then I’ll be more accommodating.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, unsurprised by his persistent give-and-take mentality, and made your way to your array of petri dishes. Under different conditions, the fungi growing within them developed a multitude of characteristics; under direct sunlight, tendrils of green plantlife snaked through the mycelium, when submerged in water the fungi formed tiny yet distinctive fins, and many other such phenomena.

“I had an encounter with Lady Eight and Lord Eleven after the lab session.”

“One that lasted well past midnight?” He asked, stealing glances at you as he set up the next step of his current experiment.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a disdainful roll of your eyes. “Hence my lack of punctuality. I had to entertain guests.”

Outrage flared in Dottore’s chest. How dare they intrude upon you at such an inopportune time? Of course, he conveniently dismissed the fact that he was the one who kept you so late in the first place; as far as he was concerned, he was entitled to your company. You were his apprentice, after all.

“Understandable enough,” he conceded.

You shot him a look. “Well? Your… segments? What are they, precisely?”

He muttered something unintelligible before responding. “Iterations of myself at various ages.”

“I counted seven of them. Are there any more? What purpose does their existence serve? How did you create them?”

“You’re terribly inquisitive today, dear student,” he drawled, holding a test tube to the light and swirling the contents. You frowned. Did he intend to leave your questions unanswered? You really were awfully curious. “Count yourself lucky that I’m in fine spirits today.”

Visibly brightening, you rested your chin in your hands and your elbows on the workbench as you waited for him to go on. You never did seem to notice that he was always in a good mood whenever it came to you and your ceaseless inquiries.

“You counted correctly, there are indeed only seven of them,” he began, preparing a solution for the day’s work with the various test tubes in front of him. “I created them using techniques similar to those utilised in ancient ruin guards, but imbedded with my consciousness and the ideals I held at different phases of my life. This allows me to approach any problem from multiple perspectives, and prevents me from becoming restricted to familiar cognitive patterns.”

You hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed as you mulled over his answer.

“But how did you ensure that the segment’s outlooks are exactly the same as the ones you used to have? Does your current personality not create some sort of bias and alter the way in which you view your… past self?”

The Doctor nodded his approval; you were asking the right questions.

“I am not heralded as a genius for nothing,” came his amused reply.

“That is a wholly unsatisfactory answer,” you grumbled, but let it slide. “Why haven’t I seen them before now?”

He elected to ignore that.

You managed to wriggle out of the Doctor’s snide remarks that you were getting lazy and make your way to the dining hall on time, for once. A restock was absolutely necessary; you’d run out of food in your dorm, and considering the sizeable journey you had to make to reach the dining hall it was a much easier endeavour to just hoard quick meals like an animal going into hibernation. Besides, you didn’t want to leave Arlie waiting, either. While you still didn’t know what kind of power she held, nor to what extent it would affect you, you were far from excited to have her demonstrate that power if you somehow managed to displease her. Even the Doctor, Childe and Signora appeared more manageable; at the very least, you knew exactly how they could make your life miserable if they wished, while Arlie was shrouded in mystery save for her dizzying, razor-sharp grace. Her special brand of courtesy felt like it would leave you scarred and bleeding out if you didn’t watch your step; a knife’s edge you had to dance around and an irresistible enigma for someone as relentlessly inquisitive as you.

After loading up a plate and sliding one of the chefs a tidy stack of mora to have packaged meals sent to your dorm, you slid into the seat across from Arlie at the table by the window you were somehow consistently lucky enough to snag (luck had nothing to do with it, really. She made damn sure no one else would sit there). Clearly she’d arrived some time ago, judging from the empty pot of coffee in front of her, and she offered you a nod of acknowledgment as you sat down. After your first meeting, she’d abandoned the purple robes that had were meant to serve the purpose of disguising her as an electro cicin mage, and now whenever you saw her she donned sleek, finely-tailored suits. You couldn’t say they didn’t look marvellous on her.

“I was expecting to see you at dinner, not this early.”

“The doctor was an in amicable mood,” you replied, buttering your roll and slathering on a layer of too-sweet jam. Mona had perfected both the art of astrology and jams; you missed her and the flawlessly balanced confections she’d make during the rare instances she had the mora to spare.

“Why are you staring at that bread roll as though it made you an orphan before your very eyes?” Arlie’s silky voice took on a bemused edge, snapping you out of your reverie. You were more than a little surprised by her question; you liked to think of yourself as somewhat difficult to read. Perhaps you were, but nothing escaped her searching gaze.

“I was just ruminating over my research.” It no longer unsettled you how smoothly the lie flowed from your tongue.

Annoyance spiked in her chest. Inconceivable, that you would entertain any thoughts that didn’t involve her. You smiled slightly. “And your ever-cryptic identity.”

She shook her head, laughing quietly. The previous frustration quickly dissipated. “Cheeky, aren’t you?”

“Tastefully curious,” you corrected with a laugh of your own.

“It’s hardly as if you’re the most comprehensible of people, either.”

You grinned. “I’m inclined to disagree, Arlie. Why, I’m an open book!”

“I’m having trouble translating your pages, then.”

“Linguistics isn’t your area of expertise, I take it?” You teased, lifting your fork to your lips. Casual conversation with Arlie felt less like balancing on a tightrope over a clearing swarming with tigers and more like finding that one of the tigers was actually quite civil and pleasant company, if you overlooked the teeth and claws and minded your manners.

“I’ll gladly learn if it means understanding you better.” Her silver-tongued reply and suave smile had you blushing and taking a moment to collect yourself.

“And you have the unprecedented confidence to call me cheeky,” you quipped.

Savouring the lapse in your composure, she replied bracingly. “Being timid doesn’t get you anywhere. Listen. Request forms will be issued later today. Make sure to submit yours before midnight.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Ah, I see. To restock any necessities we might have exhausted, yes?”

“Precisely.”

Fantastic. You needed a new turtleneck sweater after the eventful dissection with the Doctor left if bloodstained beyond repair.

“I assume the Regrator is the one responsible for overseeing such matters?”

She frowned behind her mask. Just what did he have to do with anything? Why would you bring him into the conversation? Or anyone, for that matter? “Yes, that’s right.”

You shot her a puzzled glance at the sudden frigidity in her voice. Maybe she held a grudge against him, you reasoned; it was entirely possible that she was one of his higher-ranking subordinates. Or maybe she was a Harbinger who held contempt for one of her colleagues.

“The palace truly is a self-sustaining community,” you remarked. “Do soldiers and recruits ever leave for anything besides missions?”

“No. Snezhnaya is far from a forgiving place, and there’s safety to be had between these walls.”

So the Fatui were effectively isolated from the rest of Snezhnayan society, then. You vaguely remembered from an introductory politics lecture that such physical separation between civilians and the ruling body could easily cause unrest and eventually conflict, tearing the nation apart. Oh, well. Hopefully your diploma would be complete long before that happened.

With food in your stomach and the usual vague wonderings about Arlie in your head, you returned to the lab.

“Oh, good,” Dottore remarked without looking up from organ modification he was performing. He insisted that it was enhancement, optimisation, and you firmly maintained that it was nothing but needless meddling. “You’ve finally returned. Come here and help me locate the damned tricuspid valve.”

“Surely you’re not so old that your eyesight is failing, doctor?” You asked, removing your leather gloves in favour of the horrible yellow plasticky pair. With a contemplative hum, you leaned over the countertop to survey the bleeding heart (ha, ha) more closely. Remarkable, really, how precise the Doctor’s incisions were; even you had to swallow your pride and admit that he truly was the best of the best, the epitome of perfection so highly sought after by any academic. Noting the blood dripping onto the floor, you winced. Perfection tampered by a thorough indifference to anything that wasn’t his research would be a more accurate description. You batted away his hands and took the scalpel the two of you were always fighting over, making a clean cut through the right atrium and gently peeling away the torn muscle until you could see the flimsy tissue you were looking for.

“There’s your valve,” you said, handing him back the scalpel with no small measure of reluctance. The rules dictated that he’d get to use it for the rest of the day since he got it first, after all.

He ran his bloodied thumb along the edge of his mask before going back to poking delicately at the tissue. You grimaced, watching the white leather of his mask stain crimson where he touched it.

“Flawless,” he murmured.

“Yes, quite,” you agreed, surveying the heart over his shoulder. It had clearly been removed by someone exceptionally skilled, every slice through the tender flesh perfectly made.

Ironically, Dottore was referring to your work. And you, in general.

You left the lab tired but satisfied. The day’s experiment had involved lifting several heavy mechanical components; ruin guard’s remains, to be precise. To your eternal chagrin the Doctor hadn’t struggled in the slightest, although you knew for a fact his sleep schedule was deplorable and he so rarely ate anything at all; in fact, you’d made a habit of discreetly leaving plates of food around the lab for him. A dish of vegetable stir fry you’d made in a sleep-deprived haze when your stomach rumbled loud enough to wake you and most likely every one of the castle’s inhabitants, a bowl of fruit, an exquisite chocolate mousse Anya had whipped up for you, and other such snacks scattered throughout the lab far away from any dangerous chemicals. Not that you’d admit to bringing them for him, much like how he’d deny having eaten any. What a strange, prideful pair the two of you made.

Your (well. Childe’s) coat snagged on something as you walked back to the dorm, yanking you back and forcing an obscene curse from your mouth. You crouched to inspect the source, and to your surprise found it to be the edge of a door that was left cracked. It would’ve been invisible if it were closed, and hooking your fingers into the narrow gap and pulling yielded no results. The door didn’t budge. Intrigued, you knelt fully to inspect the wedge; upon running your fingers up and down the seam you discovered a series of tiny, circular indents in the wood.

“Eureka,” you whispered softly. A similar mechanism could be found in several other places in the palace after careful inspection, and to your amusement they all required the same pattern to unlock. Terrible security. You tapped the indents in the order you’d long since memorised, and allowed a tiny, smug smile to overtake your lips when the door swung dutifully open. You slipped inside. The sheer height of hundreds of rows of bookshelves made itself known, and you let out a tiny ‘oh’ of astonishment. A library. The most beautiful one you’d ever stepped foot in, at that; even the House of Daena with its towering arches and marble couldn’t compare to the soft, weathered charm of this place, all hand-woven rugs and big windows framed by velvet curtains, plush armchairs and an array of tasteful stationery littered across every surface, cream paper and deeply coloured quills and ebony ink. You stood frozen in the doorway, taking it all in. If only you’d discovered this place long ago. A quick inspection of the books on the shelves revealed a myriad of genres and topics, even a few analyses bound in leather of subjects you’d itched to study but couldn’t because they were forbidden by the Akademiya. You glanced furtively around. Silent as the grave. Before you could lose your nerve, you quickly began pulling tomes from the shelves and stowing them in your leather satchel; surely no one would complain if you borrowed a few until the next time you could visit this miraculous place. Looking back, you were appalled by your own bravado.

“Oh? And what have we here?”

You froze, a book on the intricacies of destroying Visions halfway in your satchel. Oh, curses.

“Nothing but a curious student, sir,” you replied as smoothly as you could, turning to face the owner of the voice: a well-groomed man dressed entirely in black, from his raven hair to the shimmering jewels studded on the high collar of his shirt. Nauseatingly wealthy, that much was obvious from the fineness of the fur he wore and what seemed to be a diamond ring on his finger. The part of your brain that wasn’t panicking at being caught wondered if he’d let you test whether it was real or not; a simple and visually pleasing procedure to determine the refractive index was all it would take.

The stranger picked at his gloves, watching you over the rim of a rather excellent pair of glasses (you could tell from the set of the lenses in the frames; seamless as the door you’d unlocked to get into the library.)

“Really, now? A thirst for knowledge is all that drove you here, then?”

You swallowed nervously. Just how would you get yourself out of this predicament?

“The door was ajar, and I couldn’t help but wonder what might be inside.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And how did you manage to open the door all the way?”

You bit back the smug smile that was threatening to appear. Best to downplay yourself so as not to seem too clever; a man this rich would obviously be powerful too, and nothing good could come of revealing your assets to him.

“I don’t know, sir,” you replied, injecting as much cluelessness into your voice as you could. “I just pulled it open. My apologies for intruding, it wasn’t my intention.”

“That would be believable if I were just a touch more foolish. Unfortunately for you, I’m not convinced by your innocent act.” He smiled. “At all.”

Rich and intelligent. What a bothersome combination.

“I suppose my only defence is that I was unaware this was a private library,” you conceded, re-shelving the tome. The wistful look in your eyes as you did so was quite amusing, he thought.

“And how do you plan on earning my forgiveness?”

“What are my options?” You countered without missing a beat.

Hm. Not bad, he thought approvingly.

“Why not introduce yourself? I’d quite like to know the name of the thief who knows how to break into a library I thought impenetrable.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed, and fidgeted discreetly with your gloves.

“I wouldn’t call myself a thief, sir. I fully intended on returning these once I had read them,” you protested, then gave him your name. “I’m an apprentice of the Doctor’s.”

Subtle realisation dawned on the man’s face.

“Oh, I see. The infamous ‘Trixy,’ no?”

“That… is indeed the nickname Lord Eleven insists on calling me by.” You were going to kill him, you really were.

He smiled. “I thought Dottore was exaggerating when he referred to you as ‘overly cunning.’ It looks like I was wrong.”

You frowned slightly at the casual use of the Doctor’s name. Archons. Just my luck, being caught nicking books from a Harbinger’s library.

“I am the Regrator.” Reaching towards you, he took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, sir- my lord,” you replied, flustered by his greeting and your mistake. “Truly an honour. Allow me to once again extend my apologies for imposing myself on your property.”

“Not to worry, one apology was quite enough,” he replied with another smile. How quickly he changed his tune; a moment ago you were quite worried he’d do much worse than throw you out, but now he was all class and geniality. These two-faced Harbingers really would be the death of you, forcing you to switch between subtle defensiveness and gracefully accepting compliments.

“I’ll see myself out,” you said, breaking the impending silence. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”

“No, no. Stay, I insist. In fact…” He took hold of your shoulders and steered you towards the fireplace, nudging you into a chair. “Why not take a seat? If my memory serves, today you’re to receive the requests forms, is that right?”

He grinned, satisfied, when you nodded in confirmation.

“Lovely. Tell me what it is you were going to have brought to the palace, and I’ll ensure its timely delivery.”

Your eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.

“And what do you gain from providing me this assistance?”

“Your favour,” he replied promptly, so matter-of-fact that you thought you’d misheard. Well. If he was going to take the first shot and be such a flatterer, then you could certainly play along.

“Why, you’ve already gained it by extending your cordiality,” you said, lifting a gloved hand to your mouth to hide the grin threatening to overtake your features.

Regrator laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. The flickering glow of the fireplace threw the planes of his face into sharp relief, all razor-sharp angles that could cut through diamond. Unsettled, you took to pulling at the fingertips of your gloves for a moment’s respite from his eerie black gaze, glinting like the surface of a bottomless lake at night. Maybe, just maybe, masks were preferable.

“You’re something of a smooth talker,” he remarked. “Perhaps I’ve met my match.”

“I couldn’t hope to live up to your articulacy, my lord, though I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be so humble. I understand that you’re quite the genius in your own field, no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Whatever gave you such an impression?”

“It’s not often Dottore goes larking about others’ intelligence,” he replied with equal amusement, watching the swirling clouds of snow outside the stained glass window. Now that caught you by surprise. Surely the Doctor, legend of the Akademiya and one of the arrogant men you ever had the displeasure of meeting, wouldn’t bestow you with such praise.

“I’m clever enough to get by,” you settled on saying, fingers itching to check your pocket watch. It had to be late, but the Regrator imposed a strange aura that compelled you to follow what little etiquette you knew of. The moment you realised this, however, you made a point of taking your watch out and checking the time. The only nonsensical rules you would allow to influence your behaviour were those that could eventually be explained; the laws of science.

“Terribly humble,” he murmured, repeating his previous statement with a touch more gratification.

“It never pays to be egotistical without good reason,” you concluded, making to get up. “It’s been a pleasure, my lord”-

“Sit, sit,” he said firmly, cutting you off. “You won’t have time to submit the request form now,” he pointed out. ‘You might as well stay and tell me what it is you need so I can take care of it.”

You cursed softly under your breath. He was right, unfortunately, and you really were in dire need of several necessities. Resignedly, you sat back down. The Regrator’s pleased twitch of his lips didn’t escape your notice; clearly he’d planned this out. Sneak.

“Much obliged,” you muttered, not without a healthy amount of resentment you didn’t bother hiding.

“But of course.”

He stared at you expectantly, that maddeningly unbothered half-smile never budging from his lips. You bit back a sigh. Best get this over with.

“Well, for starters, I need at least seventy grams each of qingxin, violetgrass, mourning flowers and lumidouce bells. Oh, and ten grams of sunsettia seeds. Other than that, one kilogram each of copper, crystal marrow and white iron, and as many chaos devices and spectral husks as you can afford.”

“That sounds similar to Dottore’s usual order, yes,” he mused. “But forgive me for asking… why the sunsettia seeds?”

“Sunsettia trees can be coaxed into growing under very harsh conditions, and I happen to quite like the fruit,” you answered with a shrug.

The half-smile widened just a touch.

“I see. Everything else on your list seems to pertain to laboratory work. Are you certain you won’t require any… more personal items?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Although, the doctor did say you would know why I didn’t receive the standard uniform for Fatui recruits,” you added as an afterthought. He blinked, as if caught by surprise.

“Why, it’s quite simple. You’re not considered a recruit at all.”

You stared unabashedly at him. “What?”

“It’s true,” he continued, toying with the fine silver chain of his glasses. “Your file simply has 'scholar' written as the rank.”

“How ambiguous,” you bit out, dragging a hand down your face. For all their bluster and pomp, you’d decided that the Fatui were a ragtag group of disorderly misfits with no sense of how to run such a large and influential organisation. ‘Rank: Scholar? Seriously? Keqing’s voice in your head pointedly asked if you thought you would me more up to the task of filing accurate records on thousands of people. You mentally grumbled.

“Quite fitting for a mysterious person like you.”

You lifted your head to shoot him an incredulous glance. “Yes, absolutely, my lord,” you muttered sarcastically under your breath. “My every action is so veiled in mystique, I can hardly see a metre in front of me from all the smoke and mirrors.”

The Regrator chuckled quietly.

“Clearly you understand that brevity is the soul of wit.”

“Just bursting with wisecracks, my lord,” you deadpanned. “It’s time I should be going.” Rising from your chair, you cast a longing glance across the library. “…Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for permission to visit your library now and again?”

“Permission granted,” he conceded with a nod and twinkle in his fathomless eyes. “You’d be a welcome guest at any time.”

With a grateful ‘thank you’ and a brief smile, you hurried out of the secret door and back to your dorm.

As far as you were concerned, morning had yet to begin if it was almost noon. The sky was completely clouded over, not a glimpse of the tenuous blue visible through the layers upon layers of cottony white. In your professional opinion, if the sun wasn’t visible then the day hadn’t even started; hence why you were still in bed savouring your only day off of the week.

With a contented sigh, you pulled the blankets up to your chin and settled in a more comfortable positon, the battering of the wind against your window and the distant crowing of ravens forming a lulling symphony. Sleep was just around the corner.

A crash startled you out of your pleasant half-awake reverie, the suddenness of the movement quite effectively acquainting your skull with the wooden headboard. You muttered a string of curses, electing to ignore whoever had the unparalleled audacity to make such a noise and go back to sleep. The intruder wasn’t as agreeable about your plan, unfortunately.

“Rise and shine, Trixy!” An all too familiar voice rang out. You groaned and buried your head beneath the covers. Maybe it was a hallucination that would disappear if you ignored it. Hallucinations weren’t tangible, however, but Childe very much was, judging from how he shook your shoulder and prevented you from slipping back into your slumber. You made a half-hearted attempt to bat his hand away.

“Heavens’ sake, Childe,” you rasped, curling up tighter and willing him to go away. The use of his name rather than a snidely bit out title, or worse still, just his rank, gave him pause. You congratulated yourself on managing to shock him long enough to allow yourself to settle back into the mattress. Not even a moment later you felt a freezing pair of hands grab your ankles and pull.

“H-hey!” You kicked and thrashed, but Childe just laughed and tugged you out of bed. You could’ve sobbed. “What do you want?” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Awww, it’s almost as if you don’t want me here,” he said with a pout, watching you rub your eyes and push the hair out of your face. You were softer around the edges like this, he thought, hackles lowered slightly and the suspicion in your eyes worn away by sleep.

“You’re slow on the uptake, but know that I’m proud of you for finally coming to a correct conclusion,” you deadpanned. “Now tell me what’s so bloody important that you saw it fit to wake me.”

He grinned brightly. “It’s your day off, isn’t it? I wanted to take you to the city!”

You opened your mouth to snap out a scathing retort that would probably have him leaving the room in a huff, then closed it again. He looked so hopeful, all wide eyes wrinkling at the corners from the wideness of his boyish grin. You wanted to kick yourself for going so soft on him.

“Alright,” you conceded. “Let’s go to the city.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

taglist: @shikanosn, @viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist then just send me a message!! in a similar vein, if you want to be mutuals then dm meeeeeee

154 notes · View notes

sydsaint · 3 months

Note

Could you do a x reader fic with our three sexy himbo men with any injury prompts you want?

Protective Boyfriend Mode go hard with these three <3

Fic wrote using @promptsbytaurie 's injury prompt list.

Prompts used, 2. "Some get the medic. Get the medic!" and 19. "I came as soon as I heard."

Summary: GM reader confronts Roman and his cousins in the ring after Roman refuses to defend his title at the next PLE. An argument ensues and GM reader ends up taking a spill out of the ring by accident.

"Don't you two have anything better to do?" You narrow your eyes at Grayson and Austin as they come through the door of your office.

"Not really, no." Austin shrugs and shuts the door behind him.

Grayson steps next to him and nods in agreement. "You'd know, wouldn't you, YN." He teases you.

"Giving me attitude, Waller?" You raise a brow at him. "Sounds to me like you two want a match against some tough competition. Maybe, the Street Profits? Or AOP?" You prompt the pair with a grin.

"No!" Austin protests. "We're good, thanks babe. Gray was just playing around." He insists.

You twirl your pen in your hand and laugh. "That's what I thought."

Your laptop dings with a new email and you glance at it to see if it's anything important. When you gloss over the header your face turns sour, which Grayson and Austin instantly notice.

"Something wrong, YN?" Austin asks you.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You grit your teeth. "Who in the hell does he think he is?"

Grayson and Austin share a small looks of worry before they both turn back to you. "Who? What's up, YN?" Grayson asks you.

"Paul fucking Heyman." You growl. "And that entitled asshat Roman Reigns. According to Paul, Roman won't be defending his title at the next PLE." You explain. "Not defending that title my ass."

Grayson and Austin watch you rise from your seat with a sour expression. You close your laptop and reach for the walkie-talkie sitting on the desk. "Tell Roman I want him in the ring in 10 minutes." You speak into the talkie in a firm tone. "Or his ass is suspended without pay."

"Umm, you want us to come with you?" Austin asks as you shoulder past him with a scowl.

"Sure. You two can make sure that I don't beat Paul to death in the middle of the ring." You reply.

Grayson and Austin both nod and hurry after you once you're out the door. You stomp your way through the backstage area like a woman on a mission. When you make it down to the ramp entrance, Roman and his cousins are already out in the ring with Paul at their side. You grab a microphone off the table and march out to the ring hellbent on ripping Paul and Roman a new one.

"You've got some nerve, Paul." You confront Heyman as soon as you're out of the tunnel. "And Roman. Oh, Roman. Tell me, who the fuck do you think you are?" You ask him.

"Miss LN." Paul remains calm and civil. "What can my Tribal Chief and I do for you?" He asks you.

You march down the ramp with Austin and Grayson at your side. "What? Do you think that because you're the great Roman Reigns that you get to decide when and where you defend that title?" You climb into the ring. "Newsflash you entitled part-timer! You aren't in charge. I tell you when and where you'll defend that title. And if you don't like it? Guess what? There's the door!"

"Pfft." Roman dares scoff at you. "Like you could do anything." He insists with a smug smile. "You're just the help. WWE is nothing without me."

"This company has been through must worse, trust me on that." You fire back. "And guess what? If that title isn't being defended by you at the next PLE in three weeks? Well guess what? It'll be vacated." You inform him. "Your choice, Reigns."

Roman stares at you and rises from the chair that was provided from him by Paul. His llp curls into a scowl but you don't budge from your spot in front of him. Solo and Jimmy both step up on either side of Roman and you have to laugh.

"You aren't the only one with goons, Roman." You remind him as Austin and Grayson step up either side of you to match Solo and Jimmy.

Roman snickers again and in an instant Solo and Jimmy are on Grayson and Austin. The four men break out in a brawl and you move to stay out of the way while they fight. You step back and call for security to come break up the fight before it gets too out of hand.

While you're calling for security Solo makes a move to spear Grayson into the corner of the ring. Grayson darts out of the way not knowing that you're standing behind him and Solo hits you instead. You get hit hard and fly back into the turnbuckle. Your head hits the pole hard and your vision blurs for a second as you fall to your knees.

"Holy shit!" Austin sees the hit first and scrambles past Jimmy. "Medic! Someone get the medic. Get the medic!" He shouts as he hurries over to you.

Not about to lose their jobs over this, Solo and Jimmy both back off. They slink off with Roman and leave Grayson and Austin to check on you.

"YN! Fuck, are you okay? I am so sorry!" Grayson realizes what happened and rushes over to you with Austin.

"Ouch." You groan and clutch the back of your head. "It's alright, Gray." You insist and wince in pain when your hand touches the back of your head.

The medical team all file out to the ring like their jobs are on the line. They push past Grayson and Austin and start attending to you. Grayson and Austin both stand by and watch helplessly as you get looked at and helped to your feet.

"Here, move. I'll carry her." Austin steps up when he sees you wobble on your feet.

"Austin, I'm fine. I can walk." You insist but your head throbs in pain with each step.

Austin doesn't take no for an answer and sweeps you off your feet. Grayson parts the ring ropes for him and rattles off a string of apologies as Austin carries you up the ramp.

Austin carries you all the way back to the trainers room and only sets you down when you're in front of an exam table.

"YN? I came as soon as I heard!" La Knight comes busting through the door a few seconds later in search of you.

You are busy getting looked at so Grayson and Austin walk over to Knight and fill him in on what went down.

"So she's going to be alright?" Knight asks Austin and Grayson, who both nod. "Good. That means you two can come with me without feeling guilty." He adds.

"Come with you? For what?" Grayson replies.

Austin steps over to Knight and looks at Waller. "To kick Romans and his cousins asses, duh." He explains.

"Yep. Come on." Knight nods and turns toward the door. "We've all got enough money between us to take care of any suspension fines."

Grayson and Austin both agree and the trio all file out of the trainers room before you have time to notice that they've gone.

#wrestling #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fic #wwe x reader #grayson waller x reader #austin theory x reader #la knight x reader #la knight #grayson waller #austin theory #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #syd's wrestling fics #wwe

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forwntrx · 5 months

Text

GIRLS LIKE GIRLS ┊͙˚. 10. ON MINE

𑁍┊flashing lights (written portion)

you loved being an idol. most days. today might have been the day you looked back on the years spent and regretted it. for a moment, you thought of ignoring your schedules and staying in bed.

would it hurt, just for one day? to finally sleep and get a full eight hours? when was the last you had that luxury?

but then you remembered who you were and what you signed up for.

you got up.

your manager rushed you out your apartment. birds chirped and sat on branches. the rest of the girls were too sleepy to speak. the clock had barely stuck four. you took your normal window seat on the left side of the van.

minjeong yawned and offered you a soft smile.

you try to fake one back.

she rested her head on your shoulder and fell right asleep.

you looked down on her and for a moment, forgot about your worries. she looked so peaceful this way. there was no pain or exhaustion. you wanted to be like that too.

minutes later, you fell asleep.

the peace didn’t last long. an hour later, your up again, and being pushed back and forth by grabby hands. loud, brash photographers scream for you to look different ways. you hate it.

the bright lights, the obnoxious entitled voices.

your managers persistence. sure, it’s his job, but you still hate it.

you try to force a smile. jimin had to push you forward to make you pick up speed after the lights subsided. it was kind of like you were frozen?

this was unusual for you.

you didn’t spend much time with paparazzi. you got in and out. you didn’t care for the lights, you didn’t care for the attention. you were like a machine.

she asked you about it later.

“you all alright?”

she was behind your chair. your hairdresser had left to go pick up some pins from the other side of the room. you looked at her through the mirror. you two had barely talked today.

but that wasn’t strange. it was still early morning, seven o’clock at best, maybe around eight. you still had another ten+ hours to enjoy her company.

jimin was beautiful, she always was. but in stage makeup she was different. classic eyeliner, long eyelashes, and pouty lips.

“yeah, i’m fine.” you lie easily.

jimin stared at you. then rolled her eyes.

“you’ve gotta sleep more.”

you shrugged her off. as always. you turned away and fixed a random part of your makeup that surely didn’t need any adjustments. you always stood out the most in the group. it was your appeal. that’s how the company sold you. they wanted you to be ‘the star’.

that was the plan since debut, but you were always happy as you were.

your hairdresser came back, and you made sure to keep a half-ass smile on your face. you laughed the best you could, and only frowned when you were alone. no one bothered you with questions. no thought to ask.

you were good at hiding. even jimin just chalked it up to morning slug.

“aespa on in 5!”

they rush you back and forth. the live crowd went crazy. they scream your parts in the song the loudest. for a moment, when you perform, you feel alive.

you hit every beat. your muscles move on their own now. when the camera spins to you, you make it your bitch. it’s the only thing you know how to do.

you belt out the finishing notes, and the camera ended on you.

but then the moment is over.

you don’t remember what anyone said to you, or how you ended up back on stage, but they’re counting down on something and then there’s a pop—confetti blowing around the stage, and you blink and realize where you are (the encore?).

who was your competition? you turn to your left. lesserafim. your eyes scanned across each member. yunjin. you look for her.

you caught her eye. she was the farthest to the left of you. she smiled as soon as your eyes met, and whispered something to you. congratulations?

you manage to whisper back. thank you.

she frowned. what’s wrong?

the music of your song played.

you don’t respond back to her.

as soon as you get off the stage from the encore, she’s there waiting for you. for some reason, you don’t try to hide it from her. you rest your head in her chest. you don’t realize your crying until you feel that her shirt is wet.

why the hell are you crying? you lean forward, and try to wipe away your tears, but yunjin grabbed your hands.

“let’s get out of here? yeah? i wont tell jimin as long don’t tell chaewon.”

she wiped away your tears for you. she held out her pinkie.

“deal?”

you smile. and then nod.

“deal.”

𑁍┊i wonder (written portion)

your phone was dead somewhere. disappearing was insanely easy. your managers were slow, and yunjin called an uber faster than they could run down the street.

you both wandered around seoul for a bit. it had been a while since you could properly enjoy the city. you both shared a couple of laughs—ate some convenience store ramen, and shared a strawberry flavored ice cup.

the seoul air started to chill, and you ‘mistakenly’ leaned closer to yunjin. you smirked when she blushed. too cute.

“how mad are they at us?” yunjin asked as you both crossed a street.

“on a scale of 1/10?” you said.

“yeah.”

“probably like a 15.5.” you said.

“why the .5?”

“the .5 is because of what we are about to do.”

yunjin gave you a puzzled look. you smirked and pulled her down the street. luckily, you were around your company building. of course, you did your best to avoid going through the lobby. the backdoor always came in handy. you even took the secret elevator absolutely no one took. sm would never fire you, but you sure as hell would feel their wrath.

“shit! shit! yunjin! go back!”

company security rounded one of the corners and stopped. they peered back and forth, suspiciously eyeing all the corners.

you both stuffed down your giggles.

“anyone here?”

yunjin, on the other side from you in, in another corner made a face at the security guard. she pointed to his bald head and you tried your best not to lose it.

the security guard ended up shrugging it off, and continuing to another floor.

as the elevator sound dinged. you both lost it and spurred into laughter.

“your the absolute worst.” you complained.

“I’M THE WORST? your the one who has sneaking around YOUR company building like we’re james bond?” yunjin snorted.

you led her into another hallway with a series of doors. the lights were dimmed. she closely looked into one of the rooms and her face shifted. the same one she looked into, you opened the door of and held it for her.

“we came here so you could do more work?” she looked at you with hesitation. “why don’t we do something fun?”

you walked into the room.

“or, we can do this. this is nice too.”

you chuckled. “i’ve slacked off the whole day. a little bit of work won’t kill me.”

yunjin let you do your thing. for the most part, it was calming to mix and produce your own music. it was something you loved and had a passion for. it was always good to have someone else with you too. you asked for her input on the tone, the general feeling of the song, and some of the sections you had already completed.

her head bopped to the song. she shook her head in disbelief. as it ended, she looked at you like you were another disciple of jesus.

“are you kidding me?”

“what?”

“you’re so fucking good.”

“i know.” you laughed.

she shook her head. “this is golden. i want this song. sell this to me. my members would go crazy.”

“uh uh, aespa needs another win.” you grinned and took off the headphones from her ears.

yunjin rolled her eyes. “yeah, we’ll see next week.” you loved the friendly competition. you loved the way she would smile after, and the way her nose would scrunch—wait. you what?

you tinker around with the song some more, and for some reason, you end up out of chair and on the floor. yunjin also (for some reason) ended up right next to you, feet dangled in yours, crossed up and mixed like a puzzle.

you enjoyed being this close to her.

she smelled like—coconut, maybe vanilla, or maybe you were just making that up because she was just so sweet. you could see it, maybe even taste it. it was in her laughter, and her smile, and the way she cared. as you spoke the way she never took her eyes off you, the way she would flick a piece of lint off your shirt.

she was sweet.

“thanks for spending the day with me.” you said after a comfortable silence engulfed you.

she hummed. “don’t mention it.”

“no really.” you turned to meet her. her eyes focused on yours. “i needed it.”

she leaned forward.

you stopped breathing.

she kissed your cheek. her lips were soft and pink. “don’t mention it.” she repeated softly.

your eyes wandered to her lips. you wonder what her lips would feel like on your own.

𑁍┊masterlist －previous — next

yn has bad days like anyone else.

MHMMMM LETS GET INTO ITTT

what else is there to say, heheheheh

𑁍┊a/n: i missed this smau so much

𑁍┊ taglist: CLOSED! @runawaymazola @wintersgff @winieter @luvjanexx @justme-idle @sewiouslyz @lcv3lies @yerisdumbass @nasyu-kookies @kchwnsgf @jeindall777 @dr-wholehearted @thoughtfulqueenlady @yunalvrrr @juhyunsthirdwife @haerinfangs @awkwardtoafault @idk-idc-rn @unforgiven-000-hotline @dream-chasers-things @pandafuriosa60 @1r3n31ty @aeongiies

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bitchesgetriches · 1 month

Text

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about How to Pay off Debt

Understanding debt:

Let’s End This Damaging Misconception About Credit Cards

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

Dafuq Is Interest? And How Does It Work for the Forces of Darkness?

Investing Deathmatch: Paying off Debt vs. Investing in the Stock Market

How to Build Good Credit Without Going Into Debt

Dafuq Is a Down Payment? And Why Do You Need One to Buy Stuff?

It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Paying off debt:

Kill Your Debt Faster with the Death by a Thousand Cuts Technique

Share My Horror: The World’s Worst Debt Visualization

The Best Way To Pay off Credit Card Debt: From the Snowball To the Avalanche

The Debt-Killing Power of Rounding up Bills

A Dungeonmaster’s Guide to Defeating Debt

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke

Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “What Do I Do If I Can’t Pay My Bills?”

Slay Your Financial Vampires

Season 4, Episode 3: “My credit card debt is slowly crushing me. Is there any escape from this horrible cycle?”

Case Study: Held Back by Past Financial Mistakes, Fighting Bad Credit and $90K in Debt

Student loan debt:

What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans

Ask the Bitches: “The Government Put Student Loans in Forbearance. Can I Stop Paying—or Is It a Trap?”

How to Pay for College without Selling Your Soul to the Devil

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

Ask the Bitches: I Want to Move Out, but I Can’t Afford It. How Bad Would It Be to Take out Student Loans to Cover It?

Season 4, Episode 4: “I’m $100K in Student Loan Debt and I Think It Should Be Forgiven. Does This Make Me an Entitled Asshole?”

The 2022 Student Loan Forgiveness FAQ You’ve Been Waiting For

2023 Student Loan Forgiveness Update: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Our Final Word on Student Loan Forgiveness

Avoiding debt:

Ask Not How Much You Should Save, Ask How Much You Should Spend

How to Make Any Financial Decision, No Matter How Tough, with Maximum Swag

Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist

Two-Ring Circus

Status Symbols Are Pointless and Dumb

Advice I Wish My Parents Gave Me When I Was 16

On Emergency Fund Remorse… and Bacon Emergencies

Should You Increase Your Salary or Decrease Your Spending?

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

The Only Advice You’ll Ever Need for a Cheap-Ass Wedding

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income)

Buy Now Pay Later Apps: That Old Predatory Lending by a Crappy New Name

Credit Card Companies HATE Her! Stay Out of Credit Card Debt With This One Weird Trick

Ask the Bitches: Should I Get a Loan Even Though I Can Afford To Pay Cash?

The Bitches vs. debt:

I Paid off My Student Loans Ahead of Schedule. Here’s How.

I Paid off My Student Loans. Now What?

Hurricane Debt Weakens to Tropical Storm Debt, but Experts Warn It’s Still Debt

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years

Case Study: Swimming Upstream against Unemployment, Exhaustion, and $2,750 a Month in Unproductive Spending

That’s all for now! We try to update these masterposts periodically, so check back for more in… a couple… months??? Maybe????

#debt #mortgage #credit card debt #debt management #debt consolidation #pay off debt #student loans #student loan debt #loan #financial tips #money tips #personal finance

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rorywritessmut · 7 months

Text

You hate your asshole boss. So, after an interview you two decide to take something for a spin

Kinktober 2023: Hate Fucking

As usual, minors DNI. Please interact with this if you liked it ❤️❤️ Enjoy!

You hated Bakugou Katsuki. He was arrogant, entitled, and full of shit. You wouldn’t let him know he got under your skin, though. You knew that would boost his ego to know the super positive and happy person you were, hated him. He was also your boss. Being the number 2 hero was already inflating his ego. Always going on and on about his obsession with beating Deku.

You are a people pleaser. Even when that person is your self absorbed boss.

So, you spent every day of your life kissing Bakugou’s ass. “Yes sir” this and “Please, don’t, sir” that. You are his relations manager so trying to control him was a pain in your ass and was wearing on your patience. You begged your company to let you be Chargebolt’s assistant when he harassed the other way. You’d rather be flirted with than yelled at constantly for using your quirk.

Gentle Touch is the name of your quirk. This entailed that just a gentle touch could calm down the most anxious person. You were also in school to become a therapist for traumatized civilians after Villian attacks. You needed a job to pay for school and your company scooped you up and paired you with your current pain in the ass.

Your quirk was used often when it came to the explosive man that is Bakugou Katsuki. You took a lot of pride in showing him how to calm the fuck down from time to time. His gravelly voice telling you to quietly “Fuck off” would make your entire day better.

Today, you broke. Bakugou had an interview with some popular gossip channel and your quirk was all used up before the first 10 minutes of it. Bakugou was pissed about the interview and the two of you almost didn’t make it on the ride over to the building.

“So, Dynamight, any special ladies in your life?” The hostess leaned over and you got a good whiff of her perfume.

“Just this bitch right here.” Bakugou pointed a finger at you, “Keeps me in line and shit”

“Oh-ho-ho, you’re in a relationship with your relations manager?”

“No!” You quickly interjected, “He means that there are no women in his life other than the women he works with, respectfully.” You always did this. You always had to clean up his crass language to keep the gossip media out of his business. Frankly, you were sick of it.

“Yeah, whatever she said.” He crossed his arms aaaand he was gone. While he was physically there, he was emotionally gone. This usually meant that you were going to be stuck answering his questions.

“Not even your mom?” The hostess teases.

“That hag-”

“No, Dynamight loves his mother very much.” You physically put your hand on his shoulder, signaling him to shut up.

“Ah, you two seem close. Tell me about yourself, oh great Relations Manager.”

“I have a useful quirk that calms Dynamight down so I was hired to keep him in line.” You regret saying that when the hostess raises her eyebrow.

“I see, so, you keep him in line and he pays your way through school? Sounds like a sugar daddy exchange to me.” She sneers, how did she know you went to school and that Bakugou paid for it??

“Listen,” Bakugou growls but you make a low sound.

“Ma’am, my desire to go to school has nothing to do with Bak-Dynamight,” You take a deep breath in, “I am just his relations manager.”

“A bitch too.” Bakugou sneers at you, narrowing his ruby red eyes at you.

“Looks like we have an enemies to lovers situation-ship!” The hostess is covering her mouth as you stare at Bakugou.

His lips quirked ever so slightly at the sight of your rigid body. You wanted nothing more than to walk off set and never see him again. Every damn time your relationship came up, Bakugou’s answers became more and more vague making it seem like you two actually engaged with each other beyond work.

“I’m done.” You clipped off your mic set, threw it on the ground, and stormed off.

You could hear Bakugou right behind you, stomping through the corridor. He called your name a few times and you felt tears come to your eyes. This job was ruining your life, if you were being honest.

“You’re not done.” Bakugou snapped and grabbed your wrist. You were brought back to reality.

“Get.Off.Me”

“No”

“Bakugou Katsuki, I am done with this job. I went on two dates with a guy and when I asked why he ghosted me later it was because he didn’t want to be involved with “Dynamight’s Girl,” what the hell does that even mean?!” You’re pushing on h8is chest with your finger, getting up in his face.

“It’s because you are my girl,” He sneers and corners you in the hallway. His arms are on both sides of you, trapping you.

“Since when?!” You’re looking up at him now.

“Since you first used your quirk on me”

“You don’t even know me” You push him with both hands and storm to your dressing room.

Of course, he follows you into the room and locks the door behind him. He stalks towards you, something unreadable behind his eyes. You back away from him until the back of your legs hits the desk behind you. You’re reminded of why you hate him so much. Of course he thinks you belong to him. He thought he was entitled to everybody around him.

“Listen to me,” He starts but you’re not having it.

“No! I am done working for you, I’ll find a different job and get myself through school.”

“No, you won’t,” He grabs your wrist and yanks you towards him. He pulls said wrist to his lips and kisses it. Never once did he break eye contact with you. You’re left speechless at his actions. “Now, quit being a brat.”

“Stop telling me what to do!” You scream and trash against him. “I don’t like you. I hate you” Venom laces your voice and you see something dark in Bakugou’s eyes.

He takes off his mask and ear pieces with one hand. He tightens his grip on your wrist and he pulls you impossibly closer. He leans in and licks a stripe from your collarbone to the shell of your ear.

“You hate me?”

“Yes, I hate you so much.” You whisper, closing your eyes. You’re losing control of yourself and you can feel your sex dripping with sudden need. Sudden need for your asshole of a boss.

“I can smell you, you know, dripping with desire,” he whispers in your ear, “I want you to turn around, pretty girl.” You stay put. When Bakugou notices your disobedience, he grabs your shoulders and turns you around.

Now, you’re looking into your eyes in the Vanity. You flicker your eyes up to Bakugou who has a Cheshire grin on his face. Your chest is tight and your thoughts are running a million miles a minute. It’s obvious from the way he’s tracing lines along your bicep, that he’s not going to hurt you. You can’t help the sudden feeling of dread and desire pooling in your stomach.

“Now, quit being a brat and listen to me,” He’s talking to your reflection in the mirror, “I always get what I want. What I want is to fuck you until you’re a blubbering mess.” You swallow something thick.

“Bakugou-”

“Katsuki. If you’re going to be my little fuck, at least call me by my first name.” Bakugou coos and runs a finger down your neck and along your collarbone.

“No. I fucking hate you, I won’t call you anything.”

“What happened to Yes Sir?” Bakugou teases.

You look at his reflection and suddenly he’s gagging you with his pointer and middle finger. Your eyes go wide and you can’t find it to be scared. Instead, you’re insanely turned on and pissed off. You bite down on his fingers and he jerks them out of your mouth. The asshole grabs your jaw and forces your hips against the vanity. You can feel his erection against your back.

“Bitch.” He sneers and you smile at the name calling. “I won’t do anything you don’t want. I am a man, though, I want to fuck you.”

You contemplate for a second, did you want this? The traitor between your thighs begged for him to fulfill his promise. Your brain though:? It was still unsure of what it wanted right now. Suddenly, you felt a tapping sensation on your temple. You looked at Bakugou and saw it was him tapping on your head.

“Don’t think too much. Just go with your gut.” Easy for him to say, your guts wanted rearranged. Slowly, you nodded your head.

“I warned you.”

“I’m going to tell you this won’t happen again,” You sneered at him. “You’re probably a pathetic fuck anyways.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.” You snorted at that remark.

With all this tension, he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at yourself in the mirror again. You grab onto the vanity and prepare for the worst dicking you’ve gotten in a while.

“I am going to tell you one time and one time only, keep your eyes on the reflection in the mirror.” You quirk an eyebrow as he begins to disappear behind you.

It doesn’t take long before he’s pushing your skirt above your hips. You try to crane your head back but you receive a swift slap to the ass. You yelp and turn your attention back to your mirror image. Bakugou makes haste by pulling down your underwear. He groans at the aroma of your gushing arousal.

You’re not prepared for him to lick from your clit to your asshole. A moan escapes from your plush lips and you feel your face heat up at the sound. Grabbing onto vanity with a vice grip, you’re prepared for the second lick. Bakugou doesn’t spend much time assaulting your clit from this position. Instead, he opts to tongue fucking the apex between your thighs. You try to not let his pride swell by wantonly moaning every time he hits something right. Which happens to be a lot.

Bakugou taps your ass cheek and teases your lips with his fingers. Is he asking for permission to finger fuck you? You make a whining sound to confirm that you need something inside of you.

“Good girl,” He praises and plunges his fingers past your labia.

“Fuck” You curse.

You can feel him smile against your sex as he slowly inches towards your tight hole with his tongue. You gasp at the sensation of his fingers curling inside your spongy canal and the assault on your asshole. Moaning his name, you look at your face and you’re surprised at the look that’s there. Your lips are torn from biting them to keep the sounds to a minimum. Your eyes have tears brimming in the corners. Bakugou continues to lick and thrust, driving you mad.

“Please,” you beg, “Please fuck me.” You can’t believe you are actually begging him to fuck you. The very man you hated so much.

“Have you been good enough? Want to see yourself fucked out of your mind? Bakugou stands and grabs your jaw. You nod your head with the little movement you’re allowed. You hear Bakugou shed the rest of his hero attire but you don’t dare turn to look at him.

“Hurry,” you plead.

Bakugou wastes little time in lining up with your entrance and beginning at a brutal pace. Letting out a strew of curse words, you let out a long drawn out moan. Using a staccato beat, Bakugou grips onto your hips to lift you up off the floor and changes the angles. He sets yet another brutal pace and you drop your head in pleasure. Bakugou slides out and pulls your hair by the scalp, making you look at yourself.

“I said to keep looking,” He growls out and you lazily look up at your image in the mirror.

You’re definitely fucked out of your mind. Your hair is disheveled and saliva runs down your chin. Your breasts have come out of your bra and shirt, nothing like you’ve ever seen before. Bakugou hums in your ear and slides back in. He thrusts and thrusts until you’re almost screaming in unison with them. There’s a tension building in your core that is threatening to snap. You grip the vanity as hard you can before your tipping point is reached.

“Katsuki,” You cry, “I’m coming.”

“Fuck, me too.” He grunts and you’re both moaning as you come down from your high.

Everything is silent as you clean up, head out, and go your separate ways. You leave in the same car but never say a word to each other. Soon, you’re home and you pass out from exhaustion.

The next day? Well, gossip gets around quick.

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha #mha smut #mha bakugō #mha #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #x Reader #bakugou x y/n #boss Bakugou #dynamight #pro hero’s #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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jellogram · 6 months

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Okay real talk though I hate that the internet has made "asking to speak with a manager" into an annoying Karen thing. I don't think "the customer is always wrong and should never complain" is a very solid perspective. And if the store is fucking you over, and you want to work it out with them, asking for a manager is the appropriate thing to do.

This doesn't justify yelling or trying to get anyone fired or anything like that, but the simple act of saying "Hey I'm really upset about this but I know it's not your fault, is there a manager I can speak with?" is NOT a fucking entitled-ass Karen behavior. That's just being a reasonable adult who doesn't want to get screwed over by a company but also doesn't want to make a minimum wage employee work above their pay grade.

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bucknastysbabe · 10 months

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I’m lovin’ it - Aegon II

This is straight crack like I mean if you read this more than once you’re entitled to go do meth behind a strip mall and work overnight stocking. This is for Chris you big fat dirty white bitch why’d you take me off the motherfuckin schedule with yo triflin ass- @teamaemond

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Loser Stoner McDonald’s Worker!Aeg, modern universe, meet fuck, play place defiled more than usual, doggystyle, dirty talk, pnv!sex, I did not beta I just word vomited aggressively

A/N: based off the crazy ass anon that asked if Aegon would fuck in a McDonald’s play place and I couldn’t help but lose my shit

So McDonald’s wasn’t really twenty-four hours in your town. Too small. 10 o’clock would roll around and they usually had one or two workers and every machine was ‘broken’ by then. No really. They told you one time their hot was broken. You asked for coffee.

But you needed some coffee and some fries before going into an all-nighter studying at the local community college in the area. Hopefully the ‘hot’ wasn’t broken or the weird foot guy was working the night shift. You liked the stupid blonde, he was cute and flirty. Usually he would give you free stuff. Argan? Argon…something weird like that.

Walking into the desolate McDonald’s you breathed a sigh of relief at the blonde working tonight. No foot talks. He seemed bored and positively stoned out of his gourd, leaning against the counter. The man drawled, “How can I help you?”

You came closer and snatched at his name tag, making him yelp. Aegon. You snickered, “Aegon. What kinda name is that?” He grimaced and spat back, “A family one. I’m trying to go home early- so what’s the order.” He had a cute blush on his pale cheeks, pale orbs staring you down.

“Uh just a medium coffee and same for the fries. That’s all.”

“That’s a stupid order,” he commented while ringing it up.

You gave him a look, mouth gaping. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Aegon smirked, “I don’t know, I’m about to close, I have all this leftover food and you want a coffee and fries. That’ll be three-oh-eight.” You handed him a five and teased, “Why don’t you eat the leftovers? You’re like…high as balls right now.” Aegon’s lips pouted and he sniffed, “I’m not trying to be one of those fat fuck stoners.”

You raised a brow at his slightly softened midsection and stifled a laugh. Violet eyes narrowed at you and he turned around to make your food. Plopping yourself on the counter you asked, “Soooo, you got siblings?”

“Yes.”

“Are they blonde too.”

“…Yes.”

“Oh. I graduated with Aemond.”

“He’s a dick.”

You laughed and agreed wholeheartedly. Aegon handed you the coffee and fries, having grabbed himself some nuggets in the meantime. He grumbled, “I gotta close soon.” You shrugged, “You don’t want company?”

A brow raised, heat coming across his eyes, “What kind of company are we talking about babe?”

Well.

Aegon had his standard black pants down, fucking you bent over the likely germ infested ball pit of the play place. He said there were no cameras in there…which had to be a total liability. No matter the issue he could fuck and had a nice cock.

His warm hands gripped your hips as he panted in staccato breaths, moaning, “Fuuuck, you’re fucking tight!”

You haphazardly flailed across the balls, unable to gain purchase as he fucked pathetic little ‘ah ah ah’s’ out of you. Reaching back to grab a boney wrist you whined, “C-can we- fuckshit- pleaAse find another spot! I-I d-oooon’t want a needle in ME! Goddamn!”

Aegon laughed, stupidly composed in his situation as he eased you down to the padded floor, hand now on the small of your back to push towards a better angle. You cried out as his cock drug along your sweet spot, pulling and stretching all the right walls. The blonde swatted a hand across your bouncing ass, huffing, “God- you’re gonna make me blow too fast, sh-shit.”

One of his gorgeous hand snuck down between your thighs to get at your swollen clit, sometimes sliding around where his cock stretched your cunt out. You mewled at the obscene feeling, wailing his name. The walls of your pussy were fluttering now, ecstasy taking a hold of body and mind. Chewing on your bottom lip, you thrust back to meet Aegon’s hips in wet slaps, hoarsely moaning.

“Oh Christ,” he whimpered under his breath, tone still low and raspy. Your legs were shaking, Aegon having to pull you up to keep from sliding flush to the ground. He leaned over your sweaty back, cooing in your ear with a playful nip, “Feels that good huh? You’re a needy little thing.”

“‘M gonna cum,” you squeaked with frantic eyes.

He began to nip and lap at your neck, disgustingly hot.

His fingers pinched and tugged at your clit, sending you over the edge with a careening wail, seizing up and milking his thick cock with rhythmic squeezes. Aegon stuttered on a breath, gasping for air as he quickly pulled out and painted your ass with hot cum. The idiot fell back onto his ass, you laying flat on the floor now.

You panted, pussy throbbing in the best way. Aegon moaned in content, “Needed that.” Finally pushing yourself off the floor you retied your ponytail and scoffed, “Yeah I’m not getting any studying done tonight.”

Aegon laughed, an endearing giggle, full lips stretched into a smile. He cocked his head and offered, “We can make this a full time…deal if you wanna help me close up? I’ll make it worth your while.” Then he gave you a cringeworthy wink. You found yourself grinning uncontrollably at the loser, accepting his proposition.

Besides, what’s wrong with a good fuck in the McDonald’s play place from a hot blonde?

#crack fic #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #hotd smut

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