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#especially if it's my grandma who I see literally every week and she in fact knows I have not been drawing
thatfaerieprincess · 2 months
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if one more well meaning relative asks me if i have done any drawing recently i will start screaming and flip a table 🤪🙃
#it's not their fault!! it's not!!! I'm known for being The One Who Draws#they usually get updates from my parents sending out pictures of things I drew for assignments for school for years!! they haven't gotten#anything new in a long time!!#it's not their fault to ask hey have u been making anything new??#but also if one more person asks I'll literally go fucking nuts I will start screaming crying throwing up#I will begin tearing myself limb from limb#especially if it's my grandma who I see literally every week and she in fact knows I have not been drawing#it's worse when she asks bc then it's also with that quiet pity of someone who assumes I probably haven't but hopes that I have#ANYWAY SORRY I JUST HAD TO PUT THIS SOMEWHERE#I'm doing my best and I'm not in a great space and I'm trying real hard to try and figure out who the fuck I am when my entire life isn't#Completeing Assignments#bc since middle school I have been nothing much outside of a Complete Assignments Machine#and I've found ways to bring my humor and my creativity and things I enjoy INTO Completeing Assignments#but I've somehow then learned I can ONLY do these things if they're for Completeing Assignments#and now I have graduated college and I'm trying to get a fucking job and move somewhere new and my life isn't Completeing Assignments anymor#and I haven't relearned how to have creative fun ideas outside of the assignments framework#but I want to get there again#but I need everyone to stop asking me if I have made any art recently#bc I think for a while the answer is going to be no and if it's not no it's gonna be yes but I'll have made something so fucking weird#you're going to wish I had said no and not explained that I was building a dead rat puppet#im a rambling sam
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softestqueeen · 5 months
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red roses and deadly promises
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pairing: Zade Meadows x fem!reader
summary: When your stalker, Zade Meadows, has to do some business out of town, someone new makes an unwelcome appearance. How will Zade react when someone tries to steal you away from him?
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! stalking, cunnilingus, blow job, face fucking, attempted rape, dom/sub, pet names, death, murder, body parts, rough sex, knife play, dirty talking, aftercare, p in v sex, breeding, creampie, stabbing
wordcount: 10.658 (lol)
a/n: I think there is not enough haunting adeline fanfiction out there, so here you go! btw I don’t know what happened I only wanted to write about 7k words…. anyways enjoy <3
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It had been going on for a while.
It started out with harmless flowers paired with deadly promises. Whenever you got home there would be a bouquet of fresh red roses waiting for you. Hanging from it: a note. It wasn’t always the same, but it always went along of the lines of You’re mine, if anyone ever touches you, they’ll die, you’re so beautiful, I love watching you, etc.
The first time you received a bouquet of red roses, the note read:
You’re so beautiful, I love watching you my little mouse. Can’t wait to play with you. Don’t even try to go to the police, it will change nothing. Love, Z
You were scared shitless. You didn’t know what to do. Even though the mysterious stalker told you not to go to the police it seemed like the most logical option. You didn’t want to ask your best friend, as to not worry her too much. She already didn’t like the fact that you moved into your grandmas old “haunted” house that was literally in the middle of nowhere, so the only logical thing for you was to wait. Wait what his – you assumed it was a man - next move was or if he maybe would even stop.
But actually, quite the opposite happened. The roses came more often, even inside of the house while you were there. Sometimes they were in the kitchen when you wanted to eat breakfast or in your bathroom, which could only be accessed through your bedroom or through the window, which is almost too small for a frown man to get through. You found them in rooms you normally wouldn’t go in. Your grandmother’s old study, in the attic, behind doors that were so dusty, you had to wear a mask before entering, scared you would inhale too much of it.
And still, you could be sure in almost every room in your house was a bouquet of red roses waiting for you.
After a few weeks you suddenly felt a shift. You weren’t as scared anymore but rather felt a weird sense of comfort anytime you got something from him. You knew he wouldn’t let anybody hurt you. He protected you like no one ever did and even protected you from himself. Alone the memory of that note made wetness pool in your panties.
I wish I could come to you little mouse. I live to protect you. No man will ever lay a hand on you, be sure of it. But protecting you also means protecting you from me. I wish I could come to you and ruin you, make you my slut and my good girl. I want to be the cat that fetches you and eats you alive, little mouse, seeing the life draining out of your eyes. Every time I, watch you undress, or watch you showering, rubbing yourself with soap, letting it glide over your skin… I’m always so fucking tempted to take you right then and there, especially when I catch you touching yourself. But I will have to wait. I don’t want to ruin your innocence. Yet. I’ll see you soon little mouse. Love, Z
It was the longest note you’ve ever received. You know you shouldn’t, but you’ve read it over and over. It was not just a note, it was a letter. A love letter, a deranged and sick love letter. But a love letter, nevertheless.
And if you were being honest with yourself, you could see yourself falling for him. You knew it was oh so wrong but that just made it oh so much more appealing. A forbidden love to your stalker who you thought may love you even more.
It had been a cold autumn day, and you were very much looking forward to cuddling up with a book under a blanket, drinking warm tea and enjoying the new season from the inside. Maybe even curl up in your grandmothers old rocking chair, that brought you so much comfort.
Entering your home, you indulged in the warmth and comfort of it. You went into the kitchen, expecting another bouquet of red roses with a note hanging from one of the stems. But nothing could have prepared you for what you actually saw.
Your kitchen had a long window that went along the whole length of it and had a beautiful view of the garden and the woods behind it, that seemed to go on forever. There were curtains, but you never used them, rather enjoying the warm sunlight and how it brightened up the room.
In this situation you weren’t sure if you were grateful for the full view of the garden. Because there was a tall figure standing in the woods, but still in a way that he knew you saw him. And he was looking directly at you.
Was that Z? Was that your stalker? Is that really the man who haunted not just your nightmares but also your wet dreams?
You couldn’t see much of him, only that he must be very tall. Probably even a foot taller than you. You had to admit, you were scared. Of course, you knew that there was a real person behind Z but seeing him was definitely something else. It wasn’t just a silly game anymore it was serious now.
You were frozen on the spot and didn’t dare move. You remained in the same spot, even when you noticed that he was now moving towards you.
Again, you didn’t move a muscle but rather concentrated on the details that came now into view. He creeped closer and closer, and you could now see that he was wearing a balaclava or a scarf that covered his nose and mouth. But his eyes told you all that you needed to know.
His eyes were beautiful, even though his right eye was adorned with a massive scar. The scar didn’t take away the beauty of him though, his eye almost white and the unscared one was a beautiful and rich blue.
He came to a stop in front of the window and looked into your eyes. For a moment you were just standing there, gazing into each others’ eyes. And in this moment, you completely forgot that you were looking at your stalker for the first time. You were so lost in the eyes of the stranger you seemed to know so well.
You’ve never felt this connection with someone, though you’ve also never been stalked. Was this a sick variant of Stockholm-Syndrome? Were you going insane? Because you definitely felt like it.
He broke the stillness of the scene and put his hand against the window, looking at you in a way that made your knees go weak. You took a hesitant step forward, planning on putting your hand to his.
He looked at you expectantly, still with his hand to the glass. You reached your hand out and covered his big hand with your smaller one. At the thought of what these hands are capable of, a shiver ran down your spine.
You both waited for the other to pull away, but both of your hands remained on the window. You looked into each others’ eyes, waiting for some truth to be revealed but it remained peacefully quiet.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and he pulled away. He took out a rose from his back pocket, attached to it one of his infamous notes. He put the rose on the windowsill on the outside of the window, sent you a wink with his blue eye and then turned around and walked away, not honouring you of another glance.
The moment he disappeared into the woods, you snapped out of it and ran into the back yard. You couldn’t see him anymore, still you ran until you felt like you were about to pass out, the adrenaline slowly leaving your system.
You went back to the house and took the rose with you, deciding that you would read the note while you were waiting for the tea water to boil. You put the kettle on the stove, a light tremor in your hand.
You put the singular rose in a glass of water before taking the note out of its envelope.
I can’t wait to see you in real life and not just through the cameras. I know you’ve installed some to catch me, but I have also placed some to catch you in my trap, little mouse. Till we see each other again Love, Z
He did WHAT now?? He placed cameras in your house?! You were conflicted. You knew you couldn’t really remove them (if you even found them) because you were sure he’d just place new ones. But in a way you also felt comforted and safe because you now knew he was always watching you and keeping you safe. Yes, you were aware of how weird that sounded but for you it felt so right.
Oh boy, what did you get yourself into?
After the window incident the letters and roses slowed down a bit. If you were being honest, you were a bit nervous. Did he lose interested now that he saw you? Did he not think you were pretty enough to be with someone as handsome as him? You didn’t know what to do. Even though the flowers and notes still came, it felt different.
‘Fuck. My. Life.’, Zade Meadows thought to himself. How was he supposed to get you out of his head now that he had seen you up close. You were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen and now he knew he just had to have you. He didn’t care how long it took but he was going to get you and he would never let you go again. You drove him absolutely wild. The way you looked at him, the mix of fear, intrigue and slight arousal made it hard (no pun intended) for him not to break into your house and fuck you right then and there on the kitchen floor, against the counter and on a chair with you on his lap.
Unfortunately, things were not that easy. You were so young compared to him and seemed so innocent, looking at him like a dear in headlights. He had seen the worst things the world had to offer and also committed some of the worst crimes one could imagine. He didn’t want you to find out that he was such a monster. He wanted to be a good man for you, but he also knew that that was impossible due to his mission.
Yes, he wanted to rid the world from all the pigs that were walking around, and molesting kids left and right. In the beginning the reason for it was that he just wanted the world to be a better place and that no one had to go through the things he had to go through. But now he had a new reason that was way more important to him.
He wanted to make the world a better place for you. He knew that you would be a lot safer once all these horrible people have gotten what they deserved. And he also wanted the world to be a better place for your future children. Fuck, once he had you, he wanted to start a family with you. He knew how dangerous that was due to his profession but once all these assholes have been erased, no children would come to harm anymore. And if there were new ones, he would do the same thing to them. Whatever it took to keep you and your future children safe.
What was wrong with him, why was he thinking about starting a family with you? He had never felt that way about someone. Since he saw you at that book signing, he couldn’t get you out of his fucking mind. You were intelligent, clever, and witty. He read your books over and over before he decided that he needed more than your words.
After he saw you in that kitchen and knew that you saw him too, he had to take a step back. He was coming too close to the point of no return. He knew that there was a line he couldn’t cross yet, and he was literally about to step over it. He sent you less flowers and less notes, hoping that would ease his lust.
Spoiler: it didn’t.
He was completely clueless and out of control. He felt so helpless when it came to you, even though he also knew how much control he had over you. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life: staying away from you.
The only thing he wanted to do was hold you, kiss you, fuck you, and completely ruining you. He would turn his little mouse into his perfect little slut. Into his good girl. He couldn’t wait.
Thank God, a few weeks later the letters and flowers went back to normal. He didn’t tell you in his letters – you started calling them letters because they have gotten way longer in the last few weeks – why he suddenly wrote you less, but you didn’t care now that it was back to normal.
There weren’t any other occurrences with him, and you got out of your house more. You finished a new book – ironically a mafia stalker romance novel – and were now giving signings here and there, mostly at local bookstores though. You loved interacting with your fans and to see them enjoy the books you’ve written.
You were signing books at a bookstore that was a bit further away from your town. You didn’t think much of it and were just excited about being able to talk to more of your fans. The bookshop was stuffed and the line for the book signing seemed endless. The fact that you loved to talk to your fans didn’t help that either.
After saying goodbye to yet another fan you looked up to greet the next person in line. Your mouth fell open in shock at the sight presented to you. There was your stalker, still with mask but at least he was there. You almost didn’t believe your eyes.
He mustered you with curious eyes, scanning your whole body before he looked into your eyes again. He put your (!) book on the table, one of his signature red roses used as a bookmark. You gulped before you opened the book at the marked page. You almost let out a laugh at the scene. It was the scene where the male main character confessed his love to the female main character. Afterwards followed a very unholy spicy scene. Was he suggesting something?
he took the book out of your hand, his fingers brushing yours. They were cold from what you could tell, and you had to keep yourself from taking his hands in yours and warming them. He flipped to the front page where you would normally place your signature.
But instead of an empty page there was a note.
You look so pretty, sitting there and signing your books. I’m watching you, always. No matter where you are no one will ever get to have you except from me. Thank God, there are almost no male fans of yours, I’d hate to get my hands dirty. Love, Z
He looked at you while you read the note, looking as relaced as ever while you were losing your shit. You didn’t know how to react or what to say. You didn’t have to wait long though, because he did the most unexpected thing you could have imagined.
“See you next time, little mouse.”, he whispered into your ear, having leaned slightly forward so you could feel his breath on your face. It’s a good thing you were sitting down right now, because you were sure that if you were standing your feet would have given in.
You had never heard his voice before, but now that you had you were addicted. It was deep, rich and he had said these few words with a little rasp that drove you insane. You had read about such voices in romance novels before, but you would have never deemed it possible to experience it.
You knew that this was a cliché, but he smelled so manly. His intoxicating scent a mix of tobacco, wood, and musk with a hint of leather. You knew this man was going to be the death of you.
He leaned back, took the book again and left the bookstore without looking back. The rose was still laying on the desk and you quickly put it into your bag before greeting the next fan. The rest of the signing went by in a blur because all you could think about was the voice of your mysterious stalker.
How were you supposed to keep on living a normal life knowing how his eyes looked, staring into yours, how his voice sounded like and how his breath fanned against your face so delicately. How were you supposed to life when all that you could think about was his smell and how much you would like it to cling to you and your bedsheets. After the book signing it was getting quieter again and you haven’t gotten something from him in a few days. You didn’t worry too much though, knowing he was probably strong enough to defend himself.
Upon hearing a knock on the door, you enter the hallway. You did not have to open the door, to see the package your stalker left you, as it lay on your side of the door. That was weird, he had never left you anything that was not roses. You could feel a shiver running down your spine at the thought of your stalker returning to you and entering your house without you noticing it.
As you hadn’t heard from your stalker in a few days, this was a highly anticipated package. You made a few steps towards the box and noticed a note on top of it. It read:
Well, if this isn’t my new doll. I’m definitely looking forward to playing with you, bunny. Don’t even try to hop away from me, you can’t get rid of me. I’ll see you around, but you won’t see me. Anonymous
Your blood ran cold as you realised what that message meant. You went to the kitchen, forgetting about the still unopened package. You opened one of your kitchen drawers, revealing a pile of about three dozen notes. They were all signed from your stalker with the same letter. Z
Your worst fear was now confirmed. You had a new stalker. The mysterious Anonymous did write about being excited for his ‘new doll’ and called you bunny, even though you knew Z always called you his little mouse.
You panicked. Where did Z go? Is he okay? Who is your new stalker? Who even is Z? What would happen next?
Suddenly you remembered the package that was still waiting for you to open it.
You went back to the door, nervous about what could be in it. You knelt down on the floor and slowly opened it. The box was quite big, but what lay inside wasn’t. A wave of nausea rolled over you at what lay in that box.
It was a pair of eyes.
Real, human eyes. They were beautiful, dark brown with specks of green in them, but this was not the right moment to think about these things. There was till blood on them, and their optic nerve was still hanging on them. It almost felt as if they were watching you.
You wanted to close the box again but found yourself being unable to do so. You were shocked by what you saw. Whose eyes where that?
But before you could close it, you saw another message.
Now that your lame excuse of a stalker is out of town, he sent this scumbag to do the job. But no one is worthy enough to look at you except for me. Don’t worry Zade is the next one on my list. Anonymous
You froze. Z stood for Zade? Your stalker name was Zade? You were shocked that you found it out like this. It was a beautiful name though and seemed to fit him quite well if your being honest.
Anyways, at the thought of him getting hurt, your blood ran cold. You cared more for him than you liked to admit and knowing you could do nothing to protect him made you feel useless.
Zade Meadows was currently in Washington, wrapping up some business and trying to get a few high politicians behind bars. He hated leaving you alone, but he couldn’t reveal himself to you completely yet and take you with him, so you had to stay home.
He didn’t tell you he was leaving but thought you would notice the lack of notes and roses. He couldn’t leave you completely alone though, so he sent one of his best men to look over you during his absence. René Bellucci. He made it clear that if René were to even think about you being anything more than a mission, he would take care of him himself.
The way the man gulped and nodded, Zade knew there was nothing to worry about. So, he commanded René to send him a daily report of what you were doing and if anything happened to you, he was to tell Zade immediately, no matter what time it was.
After he scared and instructed René he could attend his business trip in peace. But of course, it wouldn’t go like he planned. He was able to get all the congressmen and politicians he wanted behind bars for now, but before he could enjoy his victory, he wanted to check on you.
He took out the burner phone that was specifically for these updates and turned it on. But to his surprise there were no new notifications. The update should have come about an hour ago, so a delay was out of question.
His heartbeat picked up. He immediately called René to see what was going on, but he immediately got to his voice mail.
Something was very wrong.
He took out his secret laptop to check on the cameras he (not so) secretly installed in your house. He knew it was wrong, but so was everything he did when it came to you.
He opened the laptop and typed in the password to access the camera feed. And there you were.
He let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding at seeing you safe and sound. But when he looked a bit closer, he could see how shaken you were. He immediately turned on the microphones and listened to what you were saying.
“This- This can’t be. Fuck, what am I supposed to do now? Where is he?”, he almost couldn’t hear you because you were whispering these things to yourself. His muscles were taut as he tried to find out what was wrong.
Zade currently watched you through the life feed, where he couldn’t see anything suspi- Wait, was that a package? He quickly went to the feed of your hall and zoomed in. The package was closed but it seemed like you already opened it, so he went to see what had happened in the minutes before.
He rewound the recording and saw you taking a note to the kitchen. You read it quietly to yourself, but it was still loud enough for Zade to hear it. His blood started boiling at what he heard. A new stalker? Definitely not. The celebrations for today where cancelled.
The recording kept on going and he saw you return to the package. You knelt down and opened it, revealing a pair of eyes? What the fuck? Again, he could hear your small voice reading the letter.
Oh oh.
That weren’t just any eyes. That were Renés eyes. Fuck.
How could that have happened? He should have known that such a beautiful woman wouldn’t be alone for long. Still, he always thought that he would stalk you and maybe in the long run reveal himself and claim you as his. But he wouldn’t have thought it possible that someone else was suddenly trying to take his place in such an extreme way.
Rage overcame him as he thought about this other man watching you and entering your house. He had to get to you. As fast as possible. Now.
He left his things behind, asking his assistant to pack them and take them with her when she went back the next day. He jumped in the car, roared the motor to life and drove like his life depended on it. And it did. You were his life and without you he had no reason to live.
Honestly, you were scared. You didn’t know what to do with the eyes, neither did you know what to do with the knowledge of having a new stalker.
Suddenly you heard something. It was an old house, so you often heard weird noises, but this noise didn’t come from nowhere. There was someone in your house. You were scared. You didn’t know what to do but wait for another indication of the intruder.
You heard a floorboard creaking, this time way closer to you. You took out a big kitchen knife, holding it with both hands and bracing yourself for what was to come.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your heartbeat loud in your ear. You could have fainted from the suspense. You prayed that this was Z or Zade in your house and not this new guy.
Why were you such a stalker magnet?
You didn’t know what to do. You could hear the footsteps clearer now, knowing that that meant they were coming closer. You had closed the door behind you when you re-entered the kitchen, so you couldn’t see the person behind it. But maybe that was for the better.
Suddenly the footsteps stopped behind the door. It was silent except for your heavy breaths. You could see the doorknob turning and the door being opened. You looked at the intruder in disbelief, dropping the knife in shock.
Zade had never driven this fast and reckless in his life. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you were safe. He didn’t know what was happening right now at your house, but he would soon find out.
The fact that he didn’t know what was happening stressed him even more. He couldn’t even call René, because he was dead. He almost forgot about that. Though he was glad that the man didn’t have any family waiting for him at home. To be honest, most of the people that worked for him didn’t belong anywhere else, and he was always glad he could give them a home.
But he had to concentrate on 1) getting as fast to you as possible 2) driving carefully so he didn’t injure someone else or even himself, though he would have tried to get you even if he had been shot in the chest 3) distracting himself from the images of you getting hurt by someone other than him, that were currently going through his mind.
He was pressing down on the gas pedal as hard as he could, not caring at the people honking at him. The only thing that mattered to him right now was you.
You were still standing frozen in place in the middle of the kitchen.
You were standing face to face with a man that was definitely not Zade. He was slightly smaller, both of his eyes were dark brown, reminding you of the eyes that lay just a few meters away still in the box, but the one thing that you noticed right away was the lack of scar.
Zade had a beautiful scar that ran over his eye, giving his look a dangerous edge. But this man did not look like that at all.
And that could only mean one thing. That was your new stalker. Well, it could also be a random man who wanted to rob you, but due to the circumstances you ruled that one out.
“Well, if that isn’t my new bunny.”, the mysterious man told you, revealing a significant part of his identity. And yup, that was definitely your new stalker.
You turned around and started running. You just ran deeper into the house, but you knew it so well by now that you could find your away around it blind. After a moment you heard a second pair of footsteps echoing through the house, meaning the man was now trying to catch you.
You had dreamed of this moment before, your stalker running after you, chasing you through the halls and rooms you knew so well. But you imagined Z chasing you. You felt like you could trust Z, but you couldn’t be sure of the man currently running after you.
Your mind was going even faster than your feet, trying to find a way out of the house and into freedom, but it seemed almost impossible to achieve.
You almost didn’t hear it over the volume of your thoughts, but the second pair of feet had stopped. You did now the same, catching your breath and trying to think of your next move. You were almost at the door and if you were lucky, you could just slip out, jump in the car, and drive as fast as you could. But of course, it wasn’t that easy.
You felt a pair of hands gripping your waist pulling you back and against a hard chest. Before a scream could escape you, a hand covered your mouth.
“Gotcha, bunny!”, you could hear him whispering in your ear. You let out a scared whimper that was immediately muffled by his hand.
He grabbed your waist a bit rougher, pulling you into a small closet, that had blinds on their door, making it possible to look out of it but impossible to see inside. You had an ugly idea where this was going.
“Your little boyfriend is probably already on his way here. It feels like it didn’t take him long to figure out that I killed his little henchman.”, he told you with a grin evident in his voice, before adding, “I sent you his eyes, bunny. I hoped you liked your present. Did you like it bunny?”
You only whimpered at his question, now feeling the barrel of a gun against you instead of the hand that was gripping your waist.
The thought of Z being on his way to you and possibly saving you made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t trust your heart right now because it could also be out of rhythm because of the gun that was currently pointed at you.
He pulled it away for a second and kicked you in the knee. The action made you unsteady for a second but that was enough to get a hold of both of your arms and tying them together with a rope. He put his hand over your lips again before you could hear the sound of a zipper.
He pressed his hips against your ass, and you could feel something hard pressing against you that was definitely not the gun.
He leaned down to your ear again, his breath brushing unpleasantly against your skin.
“Your little boyfriend is going to come in here any moment and you’re not going to make a single noise while I rape that little pussy of yours. I’m going to pump you full of my seed, so you’ll be stuck with me forever.”, he let out a dark chuckle before pressing against you again. You could feel that he freed his dick from his pants and was now humping against your ass, that was still dressed in the jeans you wore from the day.
Like he had predicted it you could suddenly hear tires squeaking against the road and a car halting abruptly. You heard the car door opening and closing and rapid footsteps coming closer and closer.
“Be quiet for me, bunny. Let him search for you while I mark you as mine.”, he warned you before you heard banging against the door.
“Little mouse? Can you hear me? Are you alright?”, you heard a muffled voice through the door before the banging continued.
“Not a single sound.”, the man behind you reminded you.
The banging continued before it abruptly stopped. What was happening? Did he leave you now that you needed him the most? You heard him walking away and open a car door. You heard it close again and thought he would leave you alone now. Alone to fend for yourself against a man that you had no chance against.
But suddenly you heard footsteps on the front porch again. Could it be possible that he opened the trunk to get something? And really, you could hear a kind of metallic banging before the door gave in and came crashing down.
You could see someone enter and when he turned to the closet you could see his face. It was Z. He came to safe you.
Theres nothing you’d rather do than scream out and tell him where you are. He was so close, but because he could not look inside of the closet he was also so far away.
Since he came into view you had been holding your breath. You were starting to feel a little bit lightheaded, so you breathed in through your nose.
Zade stopped for a second and looked into your direction, being under the impression he heard someone breathing. He quickly turned away again, seeing nothing but the walk-in closet.
He went into the kitchen and calling out your name, but to no avail. He couldn’t find you.
You had to be home, he saw your car in the driveway and there were none of the shoes missing. He stepped on the package while he was in the hallway. Not that he was in the kitchen and saw the notes, picking them up and reading them again. He could feel the blood boiling under his skin, the urge to murder this mysterious man was growing by the second.
How fucking dare he?
He started running through the house, calling your name, frantically searching for any sign that you could be alive. He went back to the kitchen where he noticed something.
There was a knife on the floor. How did it get there. The drawer where you have taken the knife out of, was still half opened. Did the guy break into your house and you wanted to defend yourself? Now he was really fucking scared about what could have happened to you. He just hoped you were still alive. If not, his hands would be drenched with that scumbag’s blood by the end of the night.
You saw him re-enter the kitchen after he went around the house and screamed you name, sounding more desperate by the minute.  Your kidnapper was still humping against you and unbeknownst to you was thinking of a way to remove your trousers without making any noise or removing his hands from you.
You were panicking, tears streaming down your face, waiting for something to happen. After Z went into the kitchen, he went quiet, which made you even more nervous. What were you supposed to do? What would happen if he would leave? What would happen if he thought you were not here anymore?
Would you get raped by a stranger and because of that maybe even get abandoned by the man you grew to love? You could feel the frustration of never really getting to know him, even though he practically knew everything about you.
You could do nothing but wait, trapped in a closet with a gun held to your body.
Suddenly you could hear a drawer being closed and steps coming closer. Zade was now standing in your hallway again, looking around. He made a tempestive step to the closet before halting abruptly. He seemed to think for a second, though his expression remained unreadable.
He made another step forward, now standing directly in front of the door. If he listened closely, he could hear your laboured breathing.
He knew you were behind that door. The only problem was that he didn’t know if you were alone. You probably weren’t but he had to think about the possible outcomes.
If you were alone, you would probably recognize him and let him take you to a safe house where you were safe until he killed that bastard that threatened him.
But if you weren’t alone, he had to get you away so he could kill that asshole. That’s unfortunately not as easy as he thought though, because he was probably not that stupid. Of course, he wasn’t intelligent either because that man messed with what’s his. You.
He had to admit, he was scared. If that man was armed, he could risk hurting you. He could of course wait until his team arrived – that he called before he drove to your house like a maniac – but that could potentially be too late.
He decided on a plan: he would open the door, if you were standing directly in front of you, he would pull you out of there, throw you to the side and attack ‘A’. If you weren’t standing directly in front of it, he would pull out the other guy, lock you into the closet and then fight ‘A’.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. What happened after, went by like a flash.
He saw that you were standing there and yanked you out by your sweater, throwing you to the side as gentle as he could. He took his knife out – he forgot he also had a gun in another pocket – and stabbed the man in front of him in the stomach.
He didn’t see that he was holding a gun, so when Zade stabbed him, a shot went lose, making you scream.
Zade pulled out the knife and his opponent collapsed to the floor.
Snapping out of it, he left the small space to look after you. He didn’t know if you screamed out of shock or if the bullet hit you.
You were standing there, white as a sheet, looking at him in horror.
“Are you alright? Did the bullet hit you?”, he asked you so fast, you almost didn’t register the question.
“No- No, it didn’t hit me.” At your words, Zade let out a sigh of relief.
He went back to the closet, taking a closer look at the man. He didn’t seem to know him, but at the sight of his small dick that was exposed he wanted to do unspeakable things to him. Did that fucking asshole really try to rape you?
Zade had to take a few deep breaths to not kill him on the spot. He was going to have his fun with him later, but now there was something more important that he had to take care of. You.
You were still standing in the hallway, shocked at what happened. You were almost raped and kidnapped, you had seen Zade without a mask for the first time because he saved you from getting raped/kidnapped. You felt like you were about to throw up and pass out.
You heard someone calling your name and saw that it was Zade who was standing in front of you, while people who you had never seen before were suddenly inside of your house.
“Let’s go to the kitchen huh, little mouse?” You could only nod, still in a kind of haze from what happened just moments before. You didn’t know how Zade could be so collected after what happened.
He sat you on the kitchen counter before telling you to stay there for a second.
“Scream if you need anything. I’m just in the next room. I’m not leaving, little mouse.”, he told you before he left you alone with your thoughts.
Zade went to his team, instructing them on what to do with the unconscious man. He was going to take care of him later. Then he told them to clean up, leave and then find out who that bastard was. He knew they wouldn’t ask questions and he had never bin this thankful for that. After they left, he went back into the kitchen.
The shock of your new stalker being dead and seeing Zade’s complete face for the first time slowly wore off. You felt a weird kind of relief at the two events, your heartbeat slowing down to somewhat normal again.
You looked into Zade’s eyes, realising that this is the first time you really saw him. Without a mask and without a filter it was just him. You could imagine him so easily, writing the letters, watching you, lusting over you. Did he even think about you that way or was it all jut a game for him? Playing this cat and mouse game with you?
You didn’t want to ask him directly though, fearing his answer. You were still sitting on the kitchen counter while he was pacing the kitchen. Neither of you said anything.
He came to a halt in front of you and stepped between your opening legs, grabbing your hands, and holding them behind your back. He was able to hold them with only one of his hands once they were behind you, so he wrapped his free hand around your throat, not pressing yet.
He just looked into your eyes for a moment, giving you the perfect opportunity to gaze into his. You saw the difference between his two eyes, but until now you never saw the mesmerizing beauty in them. His pupil was delated, and, in his eyes, you could see hunger, lust, but also the bloodlust that still lingered.
As you tried to lean forward, he tightened his hand around you neck, making it impossible for you to move. He leaned forward, almost giving you the relief, you earned for, your lips almost brushing.
“Tell me what you want, little mouse. Tell me and if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll give it to you.” You could feel every word against your lips, not even registering he waited for a reply. You direct your gaze back from his lips to his eyes.
You thought about it for a second. What did you want? Well, if was clear that you wanted him, but how? Just physically or do you want to be in a relationship with him? Both of you knew that there was a lot to talk about, but you settled on one answer for now.
“I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me, to wreck me, to ruin me. I want you to make me yours, Zade.”, you have never said something that felt so right. At saying his name, you could feel a growl against your lips.
“Please, Zade.”, you whispered against his lips, before they finally met yours.
You’ve always imagined what it felt like to kiss him, now actually doing it felt surreal. He kissed with purpose, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. And it felt fucking amazing. You soon found the perfect rhythm. You ached to touch him, but he still held your hands.
You tried to pull your head away from him, but to no avail. He was having a tight grip on you and at feeling your resistance only gripped tighter and deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth, earning a needy moan from you.
He pulls away to breath for a moment, thinking about his next move. Meanwhile, you had time to stammer out “Please let me touch you.”
He was looking at you, thinking about it for a moment. “Say it”, he told you, “Say my name.”
“Please Zade, let me touch you, let me feel you.”, you said before trying to lean forward again. He loosened his hold on you, letting you lean forward and start kissing his neck.
He let go of your hands and pressed himself against you, pressing his growing bulge against your clothed cunt. You let your hands roam his hard muscles and over his arms while you kept on kissing his neck. You could hear his breathing getting laboured and silent moans rolling over his lips here and there.
He quickly grew impatient with your teasing and took your face into his hands, indulging you into a passionate kiss again. Your lips moved against each other like they were made for each other, falling back into rhythm almost immediately.
But Zade knew the first time with you would definitely not happen on a kitchen counter, still he was too impatient to move the two of you to the bedroom, so he improvised.
He put his hands on your hips and picked you up like you were a bag of feathers. You quickly wrapped your hand around his neck, not breaking the kiss once during the move.
He pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat, before placing you on the kitchen table. He broke the kiss, pressing your torso down and spreading your legs so he was face to face with your pussy.
You were still wearing the clothes from before, a relaces off the shoulder jumper with a pair of mom jeans which accentuated your ass very nicely. Even though in Zade’s eyes you looked good in everything, he thought you looked even better with nothing on.
He was too impatient to properly undress you, so he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the knife from earlier.
“Remember this, little mouse?”, he asked in an almost mocking way before standing up. You gasped at the sight of the knife that had just moments ago brought a man to his knees. He leaned over you and started to cut open your clothing, grazing the cold tip of the knife against your warm skin with every slit, making goosebumps rise all over your body and wetness pooling between your thighs.
The awareness of how easy it would be for him to slice through your skin was dizzying. And he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He carefully sliced open your jumper, before moving down your body to your jeans.
He opened your fly before starting to slice down right in the middle of it, looking almost scary while doing so. You could see how he got lost in the moment. After slicing down your front, he sliced down the legs of your jeans. Your clothing was falling to the side and only your underwear remained.
He looked at you like you were the first women he ever saw in his life. You didn’t wear anything special, hell your bra and panties didn’t even match the slightest, but you still looked like the finest five course meal to him.
He just stood there for a few moments admiring you. The curve of your breasts, the valley of your stomach, the way your thighs pressed together. He knew that from this day on he was the only one who’s going to see that perfect body of yours.
He put the knife on the table for a moment to grope your breasts with both hands, giving them a good squeeze. You let out a loud moan which only seemed to spur him more on. He squeezed harder, almost crossing the line between pain and pleasure. He massaged your breasts a bit more, before putting his hands on your waist and giving your still clothed boobs a few kisses. The feeling of his hot breath against you was definitely doing something to you.
He pulled down the cups of the bra, peppering soft kisses over your now naked breasts, even leaving a few hickeys here and there. He pulled away and straightened up, taking the knife back into his hands.
He sliced open your bra before caressing your skin with the blade again. He took his time with it, waiting to see how you react to every movement of him, staying a bit longer at the places where your breath hitches or you let one of your delicious sounding moans slip. He was getting more and more aroused by the second.
After he decided he tortured enough (for now), he took the knife to your panties and sliced right through them, earning a gasp from you.
He took a seat at the table, grabbed your legs, and pulled you to the edge, before throwing them over his shoulder.
He started to kiss along your thighs, leaving the place where you needed him most untouched. He left a few hickeys along your thighs before finally coming closer to your glistening pussy. He admired you mostly in silence so far but couldn’t keep quiet anymore at the sight that you have presented him with.
“What made you so wet huh, little mouse? Was it my kisses, my caresses, my knife gliding along your skin or the sight of me killing that fucker who thought he was better than me? Tell me, be a good girl for me?”, his words aroused you even more. You couldn’t even answer him, taking too long to process his question in the haze you were in.  
“Answer me when I ask you something, little mouse.”, he told you more demanding now.
“Every- Everything.”, you managed to stammer out. “Everything about you turns me on. You- fuck you make me so wet.”
“Already this dumb? I didn’t even play with that sweet little pussy yet. How are you going to react when I fuck you until you are unconscious on my cock, huh little mouse?”, he asked you in mock concern before chuckling. You could do nothing but moan at his filthy words. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, waiting to be filled by the man in front of you.  
He decided to have some mercy on you and went back to your cunt. His warm breath against you let a shiver run down your spine. He placed a few wet open mouth kisses to your cunt, receiving needy moans from you.
Finally, he licked a long stripe down your pussy before caressing your clit with tight circles, making you cry out his name. His name on your lips seemed to spur him on even more, as he entered your tight hole with one of his fingers, pumping into you at a steady rhythm.
It all felt so good, almost too good. Finally having the relief, you earned for since that very first letter. He was moving against you like it was the thing he was destined to be doing. You had never felt like this with another man, and you were sure that smug bastard new that.e waHe
He slowly added another finger, making your back arch. You were coming dangerously close to the edge. 
Zade could feel your pussy clenching around his fingers. He knew you needed that relief, but he wasn’t going to give it to you just yet. When he knew you were right on the edge, he pulled out his fingers and removed his head from in-between your legs. You whined at the loss, a tear rolling down your reddened cheek.
“Please, Zade. I need you. I was so close. Fuck.”, you almost sobbed out.
“You really thought I’ll just let you orgasm? I wouldn’t have thought you were that naïve, little mouse.”, he spoke to you again in a mocking voice.
You leaned up on your shaking hands to look into his eyes, when another tear rolled down your cheek. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, little mouse. You’ll get you relief and it’ll be the best orgasm you ever had.”, he assured you with a dark edge in his tone.
He gripped your waist and lifted you up, pressing your naked body against his still clothed one. You quickly wrapped your shaky legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, peppering kisses along his jawline and face.
He carried you to your bedroom. Of course, he knew exactly where it was, having placed quite a few notes there in the past. He put you on the floor, steadying your waist in case your legs wouldn’t hold you. He suddenly looked very serious. “Little mouse, do you trust me?”
He could see the hesitation in your eyes. Of course, you trusted him, especially after he almost killed someone for you. But there was still some doubt in you, especially about his feelings for you. You didn’t even realise you hadn’t answered him.
“What do you want me to do to prove to you that you can trust me? Do you want me to kneel in front of you? Because I’ll go on my fucking knees for you, if that’s what it takes, little mouse. I promise you can trust me.”
At the thought of this powerful man on his knees in front of you, you felt another flood of wetness rush between your thighs. Even though you still didn’t know how he felt about you, you felt a little more comfortable.
“Yes, Zade”, you answered him “I trust you.”
That was all it took. He removed his hands from your waist and put one of them on your shoulder, pressing you down so you were on your knees in front of him.
“Take out my cock little mouse.”, he commanded before adding, “and then put your hands behind your back.”
You immediately got to work. You opened his belt, not bothering to pull it out, letting the belt buckle hang to the side. You opened the button and then pulled down the zipper, grazing Zade’s hard dick and making him moan. You put your hand into his boxers and pulled out his rock-hard cock.
He was huge, probably about 10 inches long and thick. Your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him and feeling him inside you. That dick was definitely going to stretch you to your limits. You could see a drop of precum escaping the tip, running along his thick shaft.
You looked up at Zade who was looking at you with a hunger you had never seen at anyone.
“No need to be shy, little mouse. Be a good girl for daddy and suck my cock.”
You leaned forward, your hands behind your back, and took his tip into your mouth, gently sucking it. You could taste his sweet precum, making you moan. You swirled your tongue around his tip before slowly taking him deeper, tracing his prominent veins with your tongue.
Zade was growling above you, mesmerized by the sight of you sucking his cock. It felt so good, finally feeling you around his length after he imagined it for so long. He came so hard thinking about you in this exact position and now having you there, bobbing along his cock felt unreal.
You were going up and down on him now, struggling to take him completely. Zade thought that you had enough time to explore him now. He put his hand on the back of your head and started to fuck your face. He started off slowly but then started fucking your face like it had seriously wronged him.
You were gagging on his cock, tears streaming down your face while you could just sit there and take it. Zade’s face was twisted with please, sinful moans falling from his perfect lips. He cupped your face with his free hand, not slowing his pace. He built a steady rhythm, using your mouth and throat the way he liked.
You could feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds he was making. Knowing that you were the one bringing him so much pleasure turned you on to no end. You were moaning around his cock, making shivers run down your spine.
“You’re such a good girl for me. You take my cock so well, so pretty in front of my knees, drooling and crying. I could fuck your beautiful face forever.” His words were bringing you closer to the edge, but you resisted coming. You knew he was close to, feeling his length twitch in your mouth. You wanted to make him cum, so you started to move your head against his length, giving him everything you had.
“That’s it, little mouse. You feel so good, I’m so close. I know you want it too, want to swallow all my cum. Go on, touch that needy pussy. I want you to cum, chocking on my cock with your hands inside that cunt. Do it.”, he ordered. leaving no room for discussion. You immediately removed your hands from behind your back and started touching yourself, playing with your clit and pumping in and out of you with two fingers. It didn’t feel as good as Zade, but it was enough to send you close to the edge.
“Cum now, little mouse. Be a good girl and I’ll fill you with my cum.” His words sent you over the edge. You chocked on his cock while cumming, sending him over the edge. he spurted his cum down your throat, not halting his movements until he had stopped.
He pulled out of your mouth, admiring your face. Tears streaming down your face, smudging your mascara. Drool running down your chin, your cheeks were red. He had never seen someone who looked that beautiful. He gave you a few moments to catch your breath and waited for you to look at him again. When he saw that stunning little smile on your face, he knew he could continue.
He hoisted you up by the arms and threw you onto the bed, earning a surprised yelp from you. Your legs spread automatically for him, and he admired your glistening pussy before undressing himself. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled down his pants and stepped out of him.
Now that he was just in his boxers you had some time to admire him. He was built like a Greek god, taut muscles everywhere and his cock, now erect again, stood tall and reached his belly button without effort. He looked even better than you imagined.
Zade saw you starring and cockily flexed his muscles for you, turning around and showing you his muscular back, making you giggle. It was good that his back was turned to you, because your giggle made his face soften. He never thought he would hear you genuinely laugh because of him, but here you were.
He turned around again and rid himself of his boxers, before climbing on top of you, covering your body with his. He leaned down and kissed you with a passion that wasn’t there before. The kiss grew heated quite fast, and you could feel his hard cock against your thigh.
You pulled away. “Please fuck me, Zade. Ruin me, make me yours.”, you almost begged as you spread your legs further.
Zade gladly fulfilled your wish and put one of his hands next to your head for leverage and used the other one to guide his cock to your entrance.
He aligned his fat tip with your gaping hole and entered you in one swift motion. You screamed out at the feeling of him stretching you out. The moment he was fully inside of you, Zade’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing you.
He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size but bottomed out completely before filling you up again. He started to thrust into you at a relentless paste, using you like a fuck toy.
You loved it.
Admittedly, it was a lot but it also felt so good. He fucked you hard, the hand around your neck, cutting off some of your oxygen only made it so much more pleasurable.
“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock, my good girl. I can feel you squeezing me every time I’m tightening my grip around that pretty neck. Is that what you wanted, little mouse when you told me to use you? To ruin you?”
“Y- Yes.”, you breathed out.
“Yes, what?”, he asked you with that cocky grin reappearing on his face. “Y- Yes, daddy.”, you answered him before letting out another moan at the way he talked to you.
“Good girl”, he praised you before tightening his grip and fucking you harder. He leaned down and kissed you breathless, tasting himself on your tongue.
You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy and the heat in your belly growing. You knew you were both close.
“P- Please.”, you stammered out. He loosened the grip on your neck for a moment. “Please what, little mouse?”
“Please cum in me, daddy. Please, I want to cum with you.”, you begged, more tears falling from your eyes.
“Such a good girl asking permission to cum. Cum with me, little mouse. I want to feel you milking my cock. I want to pump you full of my cum. Cum for me. Now.”
His words sent you over the edge. He tightened his grip around your throat, and you screamed out, your pussy clenching around his length. He came with a shout of your name but didn’t halt his movements.
You could feel him spurting thick ropes of cum into your pussy, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. He didn’t stop until the both of you had come down. He came to a halt inside of you, removing his hand from your neck, admiring the already forming bruise in the shape of his hand.
He reluctantly pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. He pushed some of it back inside of you with his fingers, penetrating your already overstimulated pussy. He placed one last kiss on your clit before getting up from the bed and putting on his boxers again.
For a moment you feared that he would get dressed again and leave you alone. That he would maybe go back to just stalking you, but you relaxed again when he went to the bathroom. He reappeared with a damp cloth and body lotion.
He cleaned you up, being careful not to be too harsh on you. Then he took some of the lotion and started to massage your body. He started with your neck, where he applied some of the cream over your bruises and then worked along your body, relieving your stress. He looked concentrated as he worked his skilled hands over your body and made you feel the safest you ever had been.
After you slightly came back to yourself, he stopped massaging you and looked into your eyes with a feeling you couldn’t really place.
“Are you alight, little mouse?”, he asked.
“Yea- Yeah, I’m fine, more than fine actually.”, you answered with a hoarse voice, already feeling the effect of your rough fucking.
“If I am being honest with you, I imagined my first time fucking you a little bit different. And under of course under different circumstances.” His confession made you smile, though that smile faltered again after a moment. Zade looked at you concerned and was about to ask you if you were alright before you asked with a small voice.
“Are you going to leave me now?” The expression on your face made Zade’s heart break a little. His face grew cold again before he answered.
“I’m never going to leave you, little mouse. You’re mine now. Forever”
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a/n: thank you for reading, i hope you liked it! please leave some notes: likes, reblogs and comments. feedback is always ver appreciated! please also consider supporting me on ao3 @ softestqueeen
taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa
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amysubmits · 3 years
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I watched a TikTok yesterday where a hospital worker shared that their ER was full. Which means they start rejecting ambulances and telling the ambulance to take people to other hospitals, but other hospitals are full too. So these ambulances end up lined up in a parking lot until there is a bed available, even if the person really needs urgent care. There is just nothing else to do. 
And then so many ambulances were holding people, that they ran out of ambulances. So 9-1-1- was having to tell people to find some other way to get to the hospital, literally uber or whatever they could use. 
Which makes me think about how my area doesn’t even have uber yet, and public transit only goes a certain distance from certain towns. If you’re out in the sticks you can’t use the bus system. So what would people here even do if we ran out of ambulances and they weren’t well enough to drive? Post on a local facebook group asking a stranger for a ride?
But even before this, what I’ve been thinking about is how we’ve shifted our idea of “social distancing” quite a lot. In the spring, taking covid seriously meant staying home unless you had essential things to do. Work, groceries, pharmacy, gas. 
Now I keep coming across things like “I can’t stand anti-maskers, they keep making this go longer and longer. Even when we go out to eat, we have the mask on until we get our food, and put it back on as soon as we’re done eating. When we were at the movies last week almost everyone was taking their masks off because we have to have empty seats between us, but we keep ours on. We’ve been social distancing this whole time!”
Or “I wish people would take COVID seriously. I haven’t been able to see my grandma since this started because she’s in a nursing home. We have a 3 household pod and we wear masks in all the stores we go into. We’ve only gone on one vacation all year, I’ve only been to the spa 3 times, and we stayed away from people outside of our pod unless we’re wearing masks. It pisses me off that others are handling this selfishly.”
And...I really try not to nitpick decisions other people make because we aren’t all in the same circumstances. I understand that sometimes people decide to take some COVID risk to do things like see someone in person if that relationship may really benefit their mental health, for example. 
I guess my point is...if people are making calculated decisions based on needs that they have, I get that. We all have to do that in some ways, I think. I’ve even made some decisions myself and then later thought it was a bad choice. But I worry that in a lot of cases it’s not that people are making conscious calculated risks that they feel are needed in some way. I worry that instead well-intentioned people have lost touch with how every time you go near anyone, anytime you touch anything that anyone else has touched - that is a risk. That while doing things in a mask is safer than not wearing a mask, that it’s still a risk. That staying home unless you really need to be around others or go into public is still the safest thing. 
All of this spread isn’t coming just from anti-maskers and people who go out to 100+ person maskless parties. The fact that we’re seeing “I only hang out with my 3 closest friends.” as still social distancing, and doing non-essential things like going to movies, restaurants, even vacation, as COVID-safe as long as you wear a mask, is certainly contributing to the spread, too. If we all relax a little bit, the impact on spread is significant. And overall it seems to me that the average person has relaxed their behavior quite a bit more than a little bit vs the spring. I just haven’t really seen anyone talking about how ‘the norm’ has changed in this regard. I think it’s really important especially as in many areas our hospitals are now just beyond overfull. 
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blushnote · 4 years
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rich girl | m.
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⟡ word count: 6,708. ⟡ genre: smut, a bit of angst if you squint. ⟡ contains: a blowjob, facefucking, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, shower sex, copious use of petnames, just a whole lot of sin.
summary: wonwoo likes to call you a rich girl, and you hate it because it’s true. in fact, you hate a lot of things: your friends, your parent’s attitude, the way your life is supposed to be perfect even though you’re miserable. not much makes you happy, except for a punk boy who you can’t even be with.
a/n: this is a reupload because for some reason tumblr wasn’t showing me my own posts? anyways, sorry for the wait!! enjoy hehe. 
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your parents don’t like wonwoo.
even better – they don’t like the fact that you like him.
wonwoo isn’t supposed to be someone you like. he’s kind of foul-mouthed, awfully conceited, and he probably makes deals with the devil in his spare time. he likes to hang around those dimly lit corners at night, just outside the local shops, puffing from a cigarette beneath the dusty street light and chuckling amongst his friends. they all hang out together. they’re very tightknit in the way that they only meet on the corner to smoke and laugh and then head their separate ways when it gets late enough.
honestly, you didn’t think you were going to like wonwoo either. most friday nights you go out for drinks with the daughters of your mom’s friends. she’s a business lady, very professional, makes good money, and has the politeness and etiquette of a true monarch. her friends mirror her every quality, and so do their daughters. you like them, even when they snap at you to sit straighter or give you unnecessarily stern glances while you swallow your alcohol in inhumane gulps. they’re great, but they give you a headache.
also, they’re the only friends you have, even if they’re not very good ones. they once left you to get home by yourself when you got too “drunk” for their liking. not wanting to soil their sophisticated reputations, they literally abandoned you after your wobbly trip to the bathroom to fix your makeup. you came back to an empty table. when you left the bar, this unknown man tried to take you by the arm, promising that there was a telephone just around the corner for you to make a call. your cellphone was dead anyways.
“what the fuck are you doing?”
there was a deep, displeased voice that echoed from the street corner as the mystery man tugged you away. you couldn’t help but stumble in your saint laurent heels. they didn’t add much height, yet you felt as though you were walking on stilts. quickly, you made eye contact with wonwoo. he stepped away from the pole and removed the cigarette from between his bubblegum lips, just before he adjusted the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. the air was cold, so he wore a beanie that pulled his hair back.
the man stuttered in response. he attempted to configure a convincing statement, but wonwoo cut him off.
“do you know him?” wonwoo asked you directly. his friends were silent as they crowded the corner, but they looked ready to pounce.
“n-not re-really, no.” you fought to respond sluggishly.
wonwoo then narrowed his eyes at the man who was digging his nails into your skin.
“do you know her?” the man countered. he sounded almost petulant.
“no,” wonwoo admitted impassively, “but i’m not an idiot, and i’ve hung around here long enough to see my fair share of fucking weirdos. go slink back to the other side of the street before i shove my cigarette past your eye socket and into your cranium.”
honestly, wonwoo’s words almost turned you completely sober. the man looked like he wanted to argue, but his pathetic type doesn’t usually put up a fight when their plans are directly thwarted. he released you, and melted away into the night like a sad, shrinking shadow.
“do you need to use my phone?” wonwoo was already revealing it from his pocket.
you nodded. you knew your mother would explode into fumes if you called her at this hour, so you dialled the local taxi service and decided to wait right outside the bar. you wanted to thank wonwoo for intervening when he did. he didn’t necessarily look like a bad person, but his tainted mouth and snarky expressions didn’t exactly shift him into the light.
“thanks,” you told him as you handed over his phone, “i-i appreciate what you dd-did.”
wonwoo made the effort to blow the smoke from his cigarette away from your face.
“it’s fine,” he shrugged, “happens all the time. figured i’d just stand here and be useful i guess.”
so there is a reason you’re always at this corner.
that’s what you wanted to say, but you were too shy, too foggy, to articulate any other acknowledgement apart from a tight-lipped smile. since then, you knew wonwoo would be someone you liked.
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wonwoo liked to call you a rich girl. it bothered you, mostly because it’s true. you wore diamonds in your ears, pricey jewels on your fingers, dressed in luxury outfits and designer products. you lived a lavish life because your parents were well off, but it’s not like you tried to rub it in everyone’s face. in fact, you were quite modest, and you only wore the jewelry because your mother never stopped draping you in it. after your first encounter with wonwoo outside the bar, you greeted him again on the street upon exiting the floral shop.
he was alone, not even smoking a cigarette, instead sucking on a vibrant, cherry red lollipop. you could smell its sugary coating the second you stood in front of him.
“hey, rich girl.” he nodded. “how’s life treating you?”
the only reason you approached him was out of gratitude. you had already thanked him for his intervention that one night, but you wanted to thank him again now that you weren’t intoxicated and cloudy in the head. notably, your expression soured at his words.
“rich girl? that’s not my name.”
wonwoo looked you up and down skeptically. his eyes were a strong, earthly shade of brown behind his glasses, but in that afternoon sunlight, they flared up slightly, and the colour was more molasses-like. thick and sweet.
“are you joking?” he seemed like he wanted to laugh, and swirled the lollipop to the opposite corner of his mouth. “babygirl, those heels you’re wearing are more than my rent.”
you didn’t know why, but you were transiently overwhelmed with the urge to drop to your knees and let him fuck your mouth right there on the corner. was that too soon? oh well. you already thought it. remembering you were supposed to feel disrespected at his comment, you crossed your arms, though it only accented the jaded bracelet your friend bought you as a birthday gift.
“i’m going to pretend i didn’t hear anything you just said. i wanted to thank you for getting me out of that situation last week. i thought i should tell you again, now that i’m… well… sober, i guess i could say.”
you then swallowed tightly. “do you really stand there to stop creeps from taking advantage of people?”
wonwoo shrugged. he then tousled his hair, which had been flopping in multiple directions. it was on the longer side, and seemed to be the same colour as dark, silvery ashes, though the roots were pretty much black. his hair looked so soft and springy. you almost wanted to comb it down for him.
“i’m just at the right place at the right time.” he said.
what did that even mean? you simply accepted his response and pressed on.
“well, i wouldn’t mind repaying the favour one day. do you want a coffee or something?”
“no.” wonwoo replied sharply. “you could do me one better and slip me a couple hundred from your pretty bank account. i’m trying to get the local black tar heroin dealer off my back.”
you nearly choked.
“wha-what? are you… serious?”
wonwoo maintained his staid, emotionless expression, and you were really starting to believe that there was a black tar heroin dealer running rampant in the streets that might pop wonwoo if he didn’t pay him off. but then a gradual smile pulled up his lips, and you wanted to retract your entire offer.
“yes, it’s a joke. you’re too easy. the only drugs you’d find in this part of town is the ibuprofen for your grandma’s arthritis. you don’t get out much, do you, rich girl?”
you gaped widely at him.
“careful, baby,” he smirked, and he suddenly brought his hand out, raising your chin with his cold fingertips to close your mouth. “don’t breathe too much of this cheap air. it’s not filtered.”
in a bubbling, festering haze of anger, you snapped his hand away.
“for your information i—,”
abruptly, you heard your name echo from down the street. turning around, you watched your mother exit the floral shop, carrying a pale green wrapping of scarlet poinsettias. they were so huge that the petals almost covered her entire face. it wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t have picked a worse time to come looking for you, especially when she was cloaked in the thick warmth of her sable fur coat. you sighed deeply and faced wonwoo again. he’d lost his lollipop, attempting to spark up a cigarette instead.
“aren’t these just gorgeous?” your mother swooned, running her fingers over the butter-soft petals. “they certainly cost a pretty penny to get such an exquisite arrangement, but i couldn’t help myself!”
you wanted to sink straight into the earth. wonwoo was looking between you in pure amusement as he crammed his lighter inside a pocket on his jeans. your mother didn’t even seem to notice him until he took his first puff, the distinct potency of the smoke making her nose scrunch.
“a-and who’s this, dear?” she couldn’t even mask her discomfort as she inquired you about wonwoo. at that point, you hadn’t even known his name yet.
“wonwoo,” he introduced himself, “a new friend of your daughter.”
“oh, how lovely,” she nodded at him while forcing a crooked grin. “honey,” she then placed her hand on your shoulder and spoke closely into your ear, “your father is parked down the street. we need to leave soon and get these out of the cold, so please finish your conversation quickly.”
as soon as she slipped past you and began striding swiftly toward the car, you could already taste the muddled defeat on your tongue. if you weren’t protruding the mirage of a spoilt rich girl then, you certainly were now. at least he didn’t blow any smoke into her face, though that didn’t diminish the fact you were going to receive a lengthy lecture in the car.
“why would you say we’re friends?” you scolded wonwoo.
“because you don’t have any.” he responded matter-of-factly while tapping some ash off his cigarette.
“that’s not true! what do you even know about me anyways, apart from that i’m rich.” you made sure to incorporate in-air quotations.
wonwoo pushed back the silver tresses dancing in front of his glasses, embracing the cool, afternoon current against his face.
“not a lot,” he admitted, “you come for drinks every few fridays. sit at the table looking like you hate your life and all the people in it. then you leave with your phony little rich clique.”
“not to be rude, wonwoo—” you almost wanted to laugh; you came here to thank him. now that ship had completely sailed— “but you’re kind of a dick.”
he then had the nerve to roll his eyes. “you’d drop to your knees and suck mine in a second, babygirl. now didn’t your mother say you should hurry up and get in the car? the princess can’t be out of the palace i’m guessing, especially not to talk to assholes on street corners.”
what else could you do apart from swallow your own frustration, bite your lip, and brush past him? there was nothing. it was too bitter to stand outside anyways. a strengthening winter wind was beginning to pick up from the north, the sting making your eyes water. at the same time, your cheeks were hot metal. if no one were on that street, you certainly would have taken him right into your mouth and sucked him dry. he was ridiculous and cruel, but you loved the unhinged nature he unearthed in you. it was liberating in a sense.
you wondered what would become of your relationship.
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“where did you say you were going again?”
you looked up from the porcelain dinner plate, in which you’d been picking at the last few crumbs of your wine reduction pineapple cake. it wasn’t your favourite dessert, though you always finished every meal out of respect for the family’s personal chef. you saw your father reach for his water glass. he took a long sip and eyed you over the candlelight and scarlet poinsettias. it was in a way that was completely and unabashedly suspicious.
“ester and i are going to the jewellers to get a custom necklace as aria’s christmas gift. i told you like five times already.”
of course, that was a gigantic lie. you and ester had already gotten the precious necklace last week, you just needed a reasonable excuse.
“and you’re coming straight home, correct?” his voice was stern and unnegotiable.
“i always do.”
“not always.” your mother chipped in as she cut a piece of the glazed cake with her fork. “you’re not going to see that one character, are you?” she always called people with less fortune characters, like they weren’t even considered to be real.
“who?” you acted clueless, and poured yourself more of the sugary, pink lemonade.
“you know who,” there was already a note of displeasure in her voice, “that boy from the corner. the one who smokes. i wasn’t very impressed by his actions.”
you started to squeeze the white cloth across your lap. “he’s trying to quit. i’ve persuaded him.”
“he won’t do it,” your father shook his head, “and he’s not right for you. i don’t want you near him.”
“and that’s why you’re coming straight home after the jewellers.” your mother continued, not allowing you the breadth to speak.
this family couldn’t get any more ridiculous, you were tempted to scream. instead, you pushed out your chair and collected the utensils sitting on your placemat. a maid passing by had scrambled to assist you, though you told her thoughtfully that you could take care of yourself. in actuality, it was the perfect time to get going, just as you could feel the anger warm your own blood to a boiling crimson. you threw on a long peacoat, a spritz belonging to a vanilla perfume, and your saint laurent opyum heels.
“i’ll be home soon!” you shouted down the marbled corridor, but it was only your own voice that echoed back to you.
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your knees were beginning to lose feeling from being pressed against the sponge-like carpet of wonwoo’s bedroom, and they would probably ache like hell whenever you came to your feet again, but for the time being, you really didn’t care. your hands were braced against wonwoo’s knees as his hand tangled possessively through your hair, each of his tugs causing your scalp to burn and tingle. you were crying. you loved to be used by him, and he loved using you. especially the warm inside of your slick mouth.
“ff-fuck, that’s it, babygirl, j-just let me fuck your pr-pretty fuckin’ face.” quickly heeding his words, wonwoo bucked his hips up in a sudden snap, the head of his cock nuzzled deep against your throat.
consequently, you gagged, and there were glossy trails of your own saliva uncomfortably pooling down your chin. he bucked up again, his fingers clasping your hair even tighter. you were struggling to breath around him, white, cottony spots blurring your vision while he forced you to take him even further. you were clutching onto his knees with enough strength to bruise his pale skin. but hearing his voice, lined with lust, heavy and laboured, how it hitched when everything felt too good; you were addicted to it.
“you’re so good at this—,” wonwoo grunted through his teeth upon jamming your head down again, “m’gonna cum down your f-fuckin’ throat, baby. be a good girl n’ m-make sure you swallow a-all of me, huh?”
you learned that wonwoo was really filthy. he didn’t have a preference for where he came, though you had to regulate his carelessness. if any of your clothes even got one rip, one pulled up thread, or god forbid a stupid ejaculation stain, your mother would put your head on a mahogany plaque. wonwoo always made fun of you for belonging to a rich family, having to act like the town’s local sweetheart because one wise crack might cost your parents a lost business partner. but you knew he loved it.
the elegant daughter of a rich heir running around with the outlandish punk? he adored it.
eventually, you had to come up for breath or else you would’ve fainted between his thighs. the air gushed into your lungs and coldly filled your chest. a string of your spit was connected from wonwoo’s flushed, hard cock to your wet lips. you could hardly discern anything that surrounded you. the oxygen had yet to thoroughly circulate and the tears were creating a thick blur. wonwoo started to stroke himself while you prepared to take him once more. the empty void in your mouth was a horrible feeling.
“you look like a fucking mess.” wonwoo grinned as he noted that your body was shaking. “am i being too rough with you, babygirl? should i just jack myself off and cum all over your face instead?”
“n-no,” you suckled in a half-hearted breath, “i-i can do it.”
wonwoo smirked. “you still want it down your throat?”
you could see him clearly now. his cheeks were tinted pink, and his eyes were impossibly dark, glittering in anticipation. without thinking, you nodded eagerly, knowing this was what you wanted. he then tapped his cock against your swollen lips, to which you opened up again and calmly took him as deep as you could. he watched your eyes glister with more tears before he started thrusting up into your mouth. his fingers were gentle. they brushed the stray spindles from your face, now destroyed by tears and drool.
“i’m surprised your tears aren’t pure gold,” he laughed, “i guess you aren’t so special.” your spine tingled as his hand crept back through your hair. “m’gonna make you cry even harder, baby.”
his grip had turned to solid iron against your scalp. you got less than a sliver to brace yourself for his unrelenting treatment, in which he pushed you straight down on his cock and kept your face right where he wanted it. with his hand against the back of your head, wonwoo snapped his hips upward, feeling you immediately gag in response. then, he unleashed on you, using your mouth as a mere fucktoy, getting all his pleasure’s worth from you in each of his hard thrusts. everything was so overwhelming and rapid.
wonwoo couldn’t help the mantra of guttural, taunt curses. he started to moan even, his deep voice cracking the second he felt his sticky cum start to abundantly spurt. without a warning, you struggled slightly to accept and swallow it, though wonwoo was intent on keeping you flush to his pelvis until every drop was polished off. he was still thrusting shallowly into your mouth, and you could feel his length gradually begin to soften. his release was warm, and it was similar to cream sliding down your throat.
after he removed himself from your mouth, he titled up your head by the chin.
“did you swallow it all yet?”
you shook your head. quickly, the side of your hot cheek was met with wonwoo’s hand. he’d given you a timid slap, one that wasn’t meant to hurt, but stung gingerly.
“i wanna see you swallow, babygirl.” he purred. “be good, won’t you?”
your tears were dribbling uncontrollably as you fully swallowed his seed. god, your throat felt like it was on fire. each muscle in your jaw was burning up ardently. your knees were so numb you didn’t even think you could stand. there wasn’t enough time for wonwoo to return the favour. you were sure he could smell the thick scent of your arousal, especially as it ruined your underwear and shone on your inner thighs.
but you didn’t care. having him use you for the night was enough.
“are you alright?” wonwoo asked, getting himself back in his pants.
you didn’t respond, just gripped onto his knee tightly and attempted to stand. your opyum heels were still on, and you nearly broke an ankle as the blood rushed into your legs. wonwoo stood also. he stabilized you by holding your shoulders, at least for a good minute. pulling back your sleeve, you rid the tears that stained your face with a quick wipe from your hand. you were going to have to be very speedy getting back to the house, unless you wanted your father to send the swat team after you.
“god,” you sighed with a raspy, dying voice, “i hate my life.”
wonwoo scoffed at you lightly.
“what lie did you tell them this time?”
you muttered, “i was going to the jewellers.”
“that’s a long time to be at the jewellers.”
“i know that,” you snapped quickly in response.
more tears pushed at your ducts. you couldn’t believe how unhappy you were, even despite having every material thing you could ever want. sometimes that particular thought would just pummel you out of nowhere and you’d fight back the urge to cry.
wonwoo’s hand cupped the side of your face. his thumb stroked gently beneath your eye and he leaned in to kiss your mouth softly. his tongue tasted like a cherry lollipop. he really was trying to quit smoking.
“what are you gonna do, babygirl?” wonwoo hummed, pressing his forehead against yours as he continued to brush your cheek.
you held his waist. “i dunno,” you croaked, “my parents don’t like you. my dad doesn’t want me near you.”
“then don’t tell him i fucked your face, princess. it’s easy.”
there was a puff of meek laughter in your chest. for a few more minutes, you let wonwoo hold you. it was the most comfortable and happy you’d felt all day. you were running short on time. the first thing you’d do when you get home would be to run a hot shower and most likely finger yourself while you thought about wonwoo’s cock lodged deep down your throat. maybe one day you’d really snap and stuff all your belongings in a suitcase and come live with him in the shitty scope of town.
but for now, that seemed unattainable.
you’d have to come up with another lie as to why you just spent two hours at the jewellers.
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“the earrings were the most magnificent things i’d ever seen! i’m going to wear them for my modelling gig next month, in paris of course. i’ll even text you guys some photos of them when i get home. they have these little opal centres that absolutely sparkle.”
just one more word. if you had to listen to aria babble one more word about her modelling gig or her stupid opal earrings or her all-expense paid trip to paris then you might have to throw your glass of chardonnay in her face. those were the only three things she talked about. then the month would change and she’d have another three things to drive into the mud, yet everyone at the table ate up her words like they were a slice of chocolate cake. you were starting to develop a headache.
“that’s wonderful, aria!” ester was gleaming as she readjusted the strap on her pearl-white dress. you could just tell she was dying to incorporate tales of her own wealth into the conversation. “i can’t wait to see your modelling pictures. that reminds me, i still have some old videos from when i went parasailing in bali. do you guys wanna see them?”
everyone started crowding around ester’s side of the table, attempting to view the footage she was pulling up on her phone screen. however, you didn’t budge, and continued to stare with a dull look in your eyes out the bar’s front window. through the glass, you could see wonwoo standing at the street lamp with his friends, swirling around another lollipop from cheek to cheek. you wondered if it was cherry. his last flavour had been green apple. you tasted it on his tongue when he’d fucked you in the backseat of his car.
but that was a week ago.
“don’t you want to see?” ester was smiling at you.
winding your fingers around your thin wine glass, you shrugged. “i’ll pass.”
“suit yourself.” ester replied, and started to play her first video.
you hated everything about this situation.
wonwoo was right. you really didn’t have any friends, and that became especially clear as you observed everyone at the opposite end of the table, adoring ester’s cute, ditsy little parasailing videos that her boyfriend took. you wished you liked the same things these girls did. your life would be one-hundred times more enjoyable if you just embraced your sumptuous blessings and shed a couple brain cells to be on the same level as them.
then again, you didn’t want to be exactly like them.
they left you to get home by yourself just because you drank too much. at a bar.
pressing the wine glass against your lips, you tilted your head back and easily gulped down the remaining chardonnay. it was a pleasant coolness that streamed down your throat, and you slammed the glass onto the table once it was emptied; even slouched back in your seat and didn’t bother patting your lipstick dry with a tissue. aria raised an eyebrow at you. she looked like she was itching to say something. you were in the mood for a challenge. if she was going to make a passive aggressive comment, it better be soon.
“i hope you have a designated driver.” she finally decided to chuckle.
you rolled your eyes. “shut up, aria.”
ester and her friends immediately looked up from the phone.
“excuse me?” aria replied while tucking a strand of her behind her ear. she seemed a bit baffled by your sudden disdain. “i don’t believe i’ve ever heard you speak like that.”
you were beyond a point of caring. “what are you gonna do then? tattletale on me? you’re such a fake.”
“that’s way out of line.” ester intervened, staring you down intensely. “why are you acting like this?”
“whatever.” you stood up from the chair and reached for your coin purse, revealing a wadded clump of cash that you slapped on the lacquered table. admittedly, the alcohol concocted with your frustration (not to mention being around wonwoo’s snide personality) had quite the effect on your behaviour. if you never had to see these girls again, it would be too soon. you couldn’t believe that you’d even went through the effort of buying aria a christmas present. the only thing she gifted you was a card with her signature on it.
like that was fucking useful.
“i think you need to leave.” ester announced like you weren’t already gathering your things.
“exactly.” you falsely commended her.
she probably had a pea-sized diamond in her skull instead of an actual brain. “i’m leaving now before you guys get the chance to ditch me. don’t worry about it though. i can actually walk myself out this time.”
if only you had a camera ready to capture their gobsmacked expressions. it would have been embarrassingly laughable. you flicked past them toward the door and pushed into the nighttime air, which was crisp and wonderfully cold to your warmed flesh. you felt powerful for summoning the courage to break ties with them, and yet, at the same time, you found that you were on the verge of tears. they deserved to have their toxic behaviour thrown back in their face. it was just that you felt a bit broken.
now you truthfully were alone. well – apart from wonwoo.
you approached him as he stood at the corner, still suckling on his lollipop. him and his friends were in the midst of a humorous conversation when you tapped on wonwoo’s hard shoulder. you always wondered what they spoke about. it always seemed more interesting than the lifeless talk you once endured inside the bar. he didn’t seem all that surprised to see you, though he did look with concern at the watery film across your eyes. you could smell the sweetness of his lollipop; it had to be strawberry.
“are you okay?” wonwoo asked, his breath forming wispy cotton against the dark sky.
you ignored his question. “i want to go back to your place.” you told him.
“now?” he raised his eyebrow.
“yes. now would be good. i’ve just been thinking, and i really want you to eat me out.”
you didn’t care if his friends overheard. apparently, wonwoo didn’t care either. he smirked at you and licked his lips, though there remained a bit of uncertainty in his eyes. you had yet to answer his initial question. from inside the bar, you knew those girls were staring at you, watching you talk to wonwoo.
they were definitely going to tattle to your parents.
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your fingers clawed mercilessly over the bed, practically uprooting the linens tucked beneath the mattress as wonwoo kept your thighs tightly locked apart. everything felt so dense, so hot, like the universe was pushing down on your chest and igniting flame inside of your body. you lifted your head off his pillow, only capturing a mere glimpse of his pink tongue gliding past your slit, the muscle coated purely in your arousal. he started to fuck you with his tongue, digging it as deep as he could within your heat.
unabashedly, you moaned, extremely loud and most likely disturbing everyone in his apartment complex. everything about the technicality and purpose of his movements was pushing you toward a climax that would be unlike any other. he was so impatient to get a taste of you that he hadn’t even taken your skirt off, instead bunching the pleated material up against your stomach while your underwear were thrown to the floor. suddenly, you were gasping, and your head collapsed back to the pillow.
wonwoo had managed to wriggle his hand between your thighs. as he ran his tongue in hot, fervent licks against your needy clit, he pushed two fingers inside of you, scissoring you open.
“ffuh-fuck, wonwoo!” you wailed, your hand grasping at his soft hair to keep his tongue against you. “it fe-feels s-so … s-so fucking go-good!”
he’d been taking his sweet time in building up your climax. you allowed him to have his way with you, since he knew how to work your body as though he were magic. his fingers started to curl. it didn’t take him long before they were hitching up into that one golden spot, the one that caused the entire room to whirl. you could tell that he was smiling. he began to messily circle his tongue around your clit. the sensation of the warm, wet muscle pleasuring your most sensitive region was leaving you breathless.
“c’mon, babygirl,” wonwoo mumbled against your core, his fingers thrusting up heavily and abusing that spot inside of you, “you gonna let go and let me taste your cum? you’re fucking dripping all over the bed.”
there was a glimmer of drool leaking from the edge of your mouth. you were so blissed out and crammed with euphoria that you could hardly articulate a response. wonwoo wasn’t giving you much of a chance either. he started a brisk pace rubbing his tongue against your clit, and then he closed his plump lips around you to better flick it with the pink muscle. his bicep was probably burning as he slammed his fingers deep into your heat, making you squelch. your slick had thoroughly soaked the sheets beneath you.
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panted, arching your chest into the air, “i-it’s s-so much, w-wonwoo—m’gonna—nngh—m’gonna cc-cum!”
wonwoo kept your hips pressed firmly to the mattress with one arm as your pleasure exploded. the tears easily streamed down your flustered, glossy face as this extreme contraction passed through you. it was incredibly wet, too wet, and you knew exactly what had happened as wonwoo pulled out his glistening fingers and completely buried his face between your thighs. god, it was fucking embarrassing. you would have curled away from him if wonwoo wasn’t so persistent. he kept licking at you, hard and fast.
at that point, your tears were no longer tiny beads. the sensitivity had left your nerves completely raw, and you sobbed helplessly as wonwoo continued to eat you out. his tongue felt like it was lapping everywhere, impatient and hungry. you tried to pull him away by dishevelled hair, but he swatted your hand back and bit down softly on your swollen clit. before you even knew what was happening, wonwoo had somehow forced your body into another orgasm. his tongue was inside of you as the second wave hit.
“pl-please,” you whimpered in utter fragility, the mixture of pleasure and pain becoming too overwhelming as wonwoo attempted to lick you clean, “pl-please, wonwoo… i-it huh-hurts..”
he chuckled against your sore flesh warmly. “are you sure you’re done, baby? bet i could make you squirt again if i was real gentle.”
“i-i don’t want to talk about it…” you said shakily. honestly, you didn’t even know your body was capable of feeling that much stimulation and pleasure. it was cosmic.
“awe, don’t be embarrassed,” wonwoo hummed, “you have no idea how fucking hot that was.”
“i don’t want to know.” you sighed.
wonwoo scoffed innocuously. he pecked the inside of your thigh, then each hip bone, before he crawled overtop of you and let you taste your own sweetness off his tongue. you spent a few minutes idly making out, smearing saliva over each other’s flushed lips, running your hands up and down his broad, hard chest, leaving scarlet rivulets along his biceps. wonwoo began teasing his fingers against your slit again, and you gasped into the kiss as his finger sunk into you, slowly, deeply.
“what’s wrong?” wonwoo asked while pumping the digit at a gentle pace.
“what do you mean?” you squeaked, staring into his brown eyes tinged with his earlier concern.
“you know what i mean,” wonwoo hummed, “why were you about to cry outside the bar? what happened?”
“are you sure we should discuss this while you’re fingering me?”
“baby, just tell me.” wonwoo urged with a comforting tone in his voice. he started to massage his thumb over your clit, and your entire body jolted.
you sniffled. “i-i just, i— i kind of cut ties with my friends. a-and i’m glad i did it but now i’m just gonna be even more a-alone.”
“of course not,” wonwoo shook his head, “you have me.”
“are you sure?”
slight amusement and shock coloured wonwoo’s face. he pulled his hand away from your core and looked like he wanted to laugh. you couldn’t blame him, but you also couldn’t help your insecurity.
“i’m sure, baby.” he told you firmly. “i’ll always be here for you. i promise.”
you smiled up at him, feeling your heart start to soften.
“can we take a shower?” you then proposed. “i want to get these tears off my face before they dry.”
while wonwoo was busy getting the water running inside the bathroom, you noticed your phone start to glow and vibrate on his nightstand. it was your mother’s number on the screen. taking a long, slow breath, you flipped your phone upside down and ignored the call. it was a risky move, but it felt almost healing in a sense to turn away from the stress in your life. instead, you focused on what mattered in the moment.
wonwoo joined you in the shower, the water gliding in silk-like pathways around his lean muscle and smooth skin. he pushed back his wet hair, sparkling droplets sticking heavy to his eyelashes. he pressed you against the tiles, and their icy touch sent a shiver up your spine. in the midst of the steam and heat, he was kissing you again, suckling softly on your tongue and squeezing your breasts in his hands. his aching length, hard and heavy, brushed between your thighs, to which your palm started to glide up his shaft.
he smiled against your mouth, “you want my cock inside you, babygirl?”
the fire slowly rebuilt itself from the embers in your stomach.
“yes please.” you lilted innocently.
wonwoo decided to press your front against the glass wall instead of the tile. his lips were leaving drifting pecks up your shoulder blade, and he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. a rough, deep groan filled your ear as wonwoo rubbed his cock between your folds, allowing your arousal to coat him generously. however, you were yearning to feel how he filled you entirely, until you could feel him nestled right to the brink. wriggling your hips against him, it was your non-verbal cue for him to start sliding in.
he cupped your breasts in his hands, whispering into your ear, “how should i fuck you, baby? do you want it hard?”
as impatient as you were, there was something about the atmosphere that told you to prolong your intimacy.  “n-no,” you mumbled as the fog swathed around you, “s-slow, i want to feel you.”
your moan was almost louder than the water spraying against the tiles when wonwoo started to push inside of you. once he was buried as far as could fit, he started to grind into you, extending his pace so that you could truly feel his every inch and vein. his fingers were massaging your chest, the round flesh almost like velvet to his touch. everything about your body was endearingly soft and warm. he loved it.
“does it feel good, babygirl?” wonwoo purred. he was situated at such a pleasurable depth inside you that you felt like complete gelatine. he thrust into you a little harder, but it was enough to make you cry.
“s-so good,” you stuttered, licking the water off your lips. “do i feel good t-too?”
wonwoo smirked. he moved his hips at a shallow pace. “mmhm. you’re so tight and warm around me, baby. feels so perfect. how pretty do you think your pussy would look with my cum dripping out of it? should we try it?”
you pushed yourself back against his pelvis, “fill me up, wonwoo, please.”
“of course,” he grinned, and slowly dipped a hand down your stomach until you felt him begin to rub soft circles into your clit.
“let’s see how much you can take, babygirl.”
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you were exhausted. you were sore. but you felt safe. you made an audacious decision and decided to spend the night at wonwoo’s rather than going home, where you knew you’d be greeted by an equally displeased mother and father that aria had snitched to. it was the first time you’d gone to bed without wearing pyjamas that weren’t expensive, pink satin. you were clad in nothing but one of wonwoo’s old t-shirts. he tried to give you one that didn’t still carry the scent of stale cigarette smoke.
his arm was around your waist, your spine resting comfortably against his chest while you lay together beneath the bedsheets. the sheet that was stained in your arousal had been tossed in the laundry hamper. you knew wonwoo would never stop teasing you about it. anyways, life felt different at his apartment; in fact, it felt better, especially when wonwoo kissed your temple before shutting off the light. your wealth had never been a defining factor in your personality, but it did make you consistently miserable.
that night, it was just you and a boy, a boy who you were quite positively in love with. maybe he loved you too. you weren’t completely certain yet, and you didn’t want to rush anything; however, you felt fairly confident his heart was likewise when he buried his face into your neck and wished you goodnight in his low, sleepy voice.
whatever your parents had to say, you’d find out tomorrow morning.
right now, you weren’t the rich girl, but a happy girl, and that mattered more to you than anything else.
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schnoogles · 3 years
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1) Artist of the image above: Jenny
2) Help Our Voices Be Heard: Sign the Petition
3) Thread of violent crimes against Asian Americans 
4) Amanda Nguyen on NBCnewyork
5) David So podcast 
6) WongFu Productions ft NextShark (asian american news) Founder Benny Lou
7) Daniel Wu and Daniel Dae Kim on msnbc
8) politicians pitting POC against each other (as per fucking usual)
hey guys, happy Lunar New Year! i really hope you’re all doing well and i wanna wish you guys a happy and healthy new year!
honestly, i wasn’t sure if i wanted to make a post about this, i’m not a very articulate person and i’m sure there are stronger voices out there. and usually i try to make my time on tumblr as positive as possible b/c let’s be real. the world is shitty and memes are my small source of fun most days. but this topic hits too close to home.
so in case you didn’t know, the hate-crimes against asian americans are fucking bad. i mean. this has been going on for years but the rise of hate-crimes has increased since COVID (obviously). and it's really really hard for me to sum up just how angry and frustrated i feel when i watch yet another video of our elders being attacked, brutalized and killed. just for being asian.
this may be the first time you’re hearing about this violence if you aren’t asian or you aren’t following asian american news because the mainstream media does not spotlight our stories. one of the main issues of this whole thing is that the media just... ignores us. because asians are the “model minority” and we have the “good stereotypes” so every hate-crime that’s ever happened to us is normalized and gets brushed under the rug or forgotten after a while. (like hi, united airlines? the rest of world may have forgotten, but we haven’t) &like the media only just recently started talking about this because people were making an uproar and applying pressure to them. and guess what? racism against asians is a real thing. we matter. we’re not fucking disposable. and like Amanda Nguyen recently said, “We’re dying to be heard.” Literally. in the last couple of weeks alone, countless of hate crimes have occurred against the asian american community. specifically, against our elders. from the murder of an 84 year old Thai man, to the robbery of a 64 year old Vietnamese woman, to the Filipino man who had his faced slashed on the subway. this is happening all across the US (and i’m sure other western countries too)
and right now all i’m asking is for you to share this. or make your own post. tell everyone about what’s going on. spread it like wildfire. let the world know that our stories matter too. we all need to band together to fight this. and i’m not talking just asian people. like, if you got a mum or dad. grandma, grandpa, auntie or uncle. and you don’t want to see them be assaulted when they’re minding their own business? then we’re on the same side. it’s easy as that.
idk more thoughts under the cut
okay i may just be regurgitating all the same fucked up news but there’s just something horrific about watching an old asian lady being robbed at the grocery store as she’s shopping for the lunar new year (a time which SHOULD be filled with joy and kindness and family and love) and about watching an old asian man getting assaulted for just walking down the neighborhood and then knowing that he died from those wounds. and they’re especially horrifying because when i see these elderly people getting attacked, i see my own parents. my aunties. my uncles. and a lot of these crimes are happening in my own city. like okay, i’ve been attacked for being asian. i can handle it. my parents CAN’T. they are old and weak and vulnerable. they're easy targets. 
it’s scary. and it’s also confusing because these attacks are happening in pretty diverse cities. San Francisco, San Jose, Oakland, NYC. and the fact that these are attacks aimed at the ELDERLY really fucking makes me sick you know? i can’t get over that. these are people who came to this country thinking it was a land of opportunity. a place where they could build a family and a life. a home. and they’re out here minding their own business and they get attacked. and FOR WHAT. what kind of shitty ass person attacks the elderly?
what infuriates me even more is that this is happening during the Lunar New Year time. a time where we’re supposed to be celebrating family and prosperity and unity and new beginnings. a time where we’re supposed to be kind to one another. and instead people are being murdered.
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shespeaksinsongs · 2 years
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first of all, i love your new username!!!!
my family loves watching sports so every year the super bowl is like a excuse to drink and eat junk! i actually don’t understand football even tho i grew up with family who’s super into watching it! i honestly spent most of the game eating and like playing with the baby bc he’s so precious and i love him. i loved the halftime show it was good. we didn’t get the day off bc i go to a charter school not a public school.
i actually do know where i wanna go and what i want to do lol. i just forget that like now it’s not shocking to people when i know what i wanna do with my life. cause like when i was younger like in middle school they would ask me and i would say like what i wanted to major in and people would be so shocked that i knew.
omg i’ve had one sleep over with my neighbor when i
was like 7 but other than that i’ve never had one.
im okayish. my mom has def been something these past days. the only thing that keeping me going rn is the fact that i move out next year!!! i have a dance on friday which i’m excited for and my grandma comes back from mexico this week too(i have mommy and daddy issues so my attachment to my grandma is out of this world). how are u baeee?
DIANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW ARE YOU?!!! also, thank you very much, my mom made me change it, and i had to come up with a new name in literally thirty seconds, but i'm actually really happy with the choice i made! :)
when is your spring break? mine is in two weeks, and i'm so. excited.
what do you want to be again? you might have told me, but i have forgotten. i also knew what i wanted to be from a young age! since i can remember, i'd always wanted to be a pediatrician. it wasn't until i started writing fan fictions that i realized connecting with an audience and being able to give them something made me feel so happy, and it's what i want to do with the rest of my life. so now i wanna be a writer. but. i think it's super super cool that you've always known what you wanted to be. you'll be successful for sure, whatever it is.
really?? so many people i know have never had sleepovers, and it's crazy to me, because i've had too many to count (only about 10-15 with friends, but the rest have been with my cousins!)! as i get older, i'm starting to realize sleepovers are only fun for like two days max. i just love my room, and the comfort of it.
how's your mom now? girl just keep thinking about next year. idk about you, but this year went by SUPER fast for me. so i'm sure next year, especially since it'll be your last year, will, too. how was your dance? i'm sorry i'm so late on these always. i also had a dance! last saturday, actually! it was phenomenal, and i learned how to dance there. i was really nervous, but i looked great, and i felt really happy, especially dancing! it was my second school dance ever (the first being in middle school, which was extremely lame, so i asked my mom to pick me up early). how are you now that your grandma's back? i love my abuela :') i'm gonna see her for the first time in like four years next month, and super excited. she lives in venezuela, and i see her scattered years for a few months. i can't wait :)
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chidoroki · 3 years
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TPN - Isabella one-shot
Okay, so.. I have so many emotions right now it's not even funny. I don't care how many times I've said this since ch169, but I'm gonna say it again: Isabella is a goddamn QUEEN! I thought the side chapter was going to reflect the light novel like Krone's was last week (it was based on that, correct?), so being able to witness Isabella be that dangerous “iron woman” mastermind again was simply fantastic.
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As Krone's extra chapter reminded us, every woman in this mother/sister academy is fighting to survive by any means necessary, so seeing these ladies put on a pretty face one moment to praise Isabella on her promotion only to talk shit behind her back the next minute was of no surprise to me. What did make me a little stunned was that these women are unmistakably the same women who stood so proud and confidently behind Isabella once she revealed her wonderful revenge plan to the rest of the facility back in ch170.
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So, what changed? Oh, it's quite simple and a complete joy for me to talk about, so allow me. Isabella had a reputation of never making mistakes, as she always received perfect scores on both written and physical tests, so upon learning that she allowed 15 children to escape is a bit jarring, especially to the other ladies. The quality of her loss was such a huge hit to the farm's profit that they couldn't fathom why she of all people would be chosen to become the next Grandma. They believed it to be unfair, that Isabella must have had some sort advantage after working under Grandma Sarah that could've been kept under wraps. They both got rid of Krone with little to no explanation at all, so some rules must have been tweaked. It's no doubt the ladies saw Isabella as a major threat to their own survival, so they kept a close eye on her and waited for the perfect opportunity.. to create a fake lead to raise suspicion on this flawless woman.
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Too bad dearest Grandma was already ten steps ahead of them! HAA! Did they honestly think they could take her down? And Jessica, sweetheart, you even spoke about Isabella's training days a couple of pages ago and how “she calmly got revenge on all the girls when they tried to sabotage her.” That literally just happened again so y'all can't really be surprised by this outcome! She knows that Jessica, Sienna, Scarlet & Matilda, are the current top four choices to become mothers, so it was quite easy for Isabella to determine who would go after her and her new position, if anyone were foolish enough to think about such a thing.
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Luckily for them, Isabella has no intentions of killing them off. Since they're all quite intelligent and skilled, she decides to recruit them as allies in her pursuit to destroy Grace Field. Their reaction is similar to the other women we see from ch170. Everyone is apprehensive at first, as going against the farm is nothing but a crazy idea, and yet Isabella assures them that there is no bright future if they remain stuck in the system and obey their rules.
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They betray each other to give themselves the best chance at surviving, but it'll be an endless hell if you live out your entire life in fear. So if not for each other, what do these ladies have to live for? Oh, just their children they all chose so hard to forget about.
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By now it's no secret that Ray is Isabella's son, but ever since ch170 I couldn't help but wonder if any of those women were the biological moms of any of the other kids we know. You can't tell me the lady with that distinguished nose isn't Nat's mother. I also thought the others could be mothers of Rossi, Yvette, Anna and perhaps Don? Sienna might be Emma's, Matilda to Norman's, Scarlet to Phil's, and Jessica.. I'm not sure honestly? I know it could be any of the kids at GF plant #3, not just the 15 that escaped, but it is fun to think about though and I wasn't expecting to learn that their kids were all at the same house.
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It's quite convenient that Isabella had the chance to raise their children actually, because after a few more words of encouragement and the knowledge that their children are indeed still alive, the four ladies agree to support Isabella's plan. Well, once she guarantees to not double-cross them, which is reasonable. It's best for them to have some trust in each other in order to work together. Isabella gives them her word and some much better evidence of her mistake in the form of… aaaaahhh Ray's note.
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Bro, believe me when I was completely shooketh upon reading this. It's been a question we all had for so long that I was fairly certain we weren't going to get an answer for it after the series ended. Of course the knowledge of Ray being Isabella's true son was the weakness many of us thought the note contained, but I could've sworn I read somewhere, in some interview or whatever it was, that Shirai said it was something else Ray baited Krone with (right? or am I completely going crazy about this trivia). Anyways, I guess a farewell note is different enough but damn.. what a punch to my heart. Not only did he address it as “dear mother,” but the fact that Isabella kept it this entire time. Like wow.. I'm kinda speechless here. No doubt she still loves her son, just look at how fondly she holds it! If anything, I must know the full contents of said note! Shirai, please! I'm begging!
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And if that wasn't enough to make me emotional, Isabella's wish certainly had me tearing up. I hope she knows that her precious children are all happy together in a free world living the best life they possibly can. Honestly, if I had any power to change just one thing in this series, it would to let Isabella live. Having Emma keep her memories is a close second, but I've come to accept that inconvenience after seeing how happy she and all the other kids are post-series. Look at this precious family! I love them! (also I wanna see that full photo on top with her and ayshe darn it!)
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Seriously though, her death is still something I'm not over. I literally have not listened to her lullaby since ch177 dropped because I'm scared I'll become a tearful mess. Yes, sacrificing herself to protect Emma and that other girl from the demon was very admirable of her and helped with her redemption, but she didn't have to die from it! (hell, if emma could survive being stabbed then so could isabella, right?? damn plot armor! ) To me, I just feel like it wasn't necessary, especially now after learning what we just did from this extra chapter. Not only did she agree to become Grandma to help the children when they eventually returned to GF in two years, but Isabella also decreased the number of shipments in order to produce higher quality goods to make up for those that escaped, which is exactly what Emma believed would happen once she decided to leave the kids four and under behind. I love how Isabella adopted Emma's ideals and spirit in order to go against the system and rally everyone else up to accomplish the impossible. Personally, I forgave this woman the moment she retrieved the ropes in ch37 so the farm wouldn't know exactly where the children escaped from. She didn't have to die to prove she was a good mother who cared and love her children, because she showed that several times over and over again. She literally did everything in her power to help these kids secure a brighter future while remaining in the shadows.
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Yeah, it makes me happy that they did at least take her body to to the human world so they all can continue to pay their respects to her, but aaahhh.. how I wish she were still alive. She suffered so much, she deserves to live in peace with her children and love them all normally. Ray especially!! You can't just formally introduce these four brilliant women to me and then be like “oh yeah, they have GF kids too and now they're free in the human world with them” and not have Isabella with Ray! I'm sure their relationship would've been rocky at first, but I still would've love to see them at least give each other a chance to be a real family. Hmmmm.. this chapter, man.. so not good for my heart, but I loved every bit of it. Once again, rest in peace to the iron woman. What a queen.
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scribble-blog · 4 years
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Soulmate AU part 3!!
First • Previous • Here • Next
Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!
Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!
Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”
Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.
“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”
“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.
“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”
“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”
“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”
“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.
“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”
“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.
“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”
“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”
“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”
That does make Marinette feel better.
“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”
“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”
“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”
“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”
Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”
Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”
“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.
“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”
“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”
Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”
Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”
She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”
———
Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.
But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.
“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.
Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”
Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”
He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.
“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“
“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.
“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”
“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.
“You kept trying to kill me.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“
“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”
Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.
Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.
And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.
Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”
Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”
“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”
Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”
“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”
Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.
He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.
He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.
One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.
All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.
TAGLIST:
@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person
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cloveroctobers · 3 years
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ANNA-JULIA “AJ” (JONES) JARLETT
IG bio/info: @/annajj9x_ | 20.1k followers| Athlete | hey peeps can you stop asking me to throw it back cuz the answer will always be no! K thx take it easy 🏳️‍🌈🌻🏒🐶
21 years old
From bath, England
Hockey player as her profession for the past three years
Her position is defense
Their team name is “rowdy alphas”...yeah some team names just didn’t make sense or they’re cringe for no reason at all
Was raised by her mom,(her mom was a teen mom & had her at 17) maternal grandmother, and her paternal aunt (dad’s younger sister, who’s more like a big sister to her at 28)
They’ve made her into the person she is, literally
Her grandmother has a bed and breakfast that they all live in
the house is Victorian style—almost as if they walked right out of charmed! Instead of a big pink house, think yellow AND purple. It was hideous but homey and charming on the inside
growing up in a house with multiple temporary strangers wasn’t odd to aj at all, in fact it felt like the norm. There was always someone around to socialize with so that was quite nice
Her father was a pro baseball player & passed away due to a automobile accident
she has his smile & freckles
aj was also involved in the accident at the age of 6 & miraculously survived with intense injuries
Has scars as a reminder
used to have night terrors because of the accident...it took awhile—years!!! for them to subside
they’re all vague memories now (but the pain is something she’ll always remember) but she preferred it that way
she’s named “Anna” after her mother’s old best friend/roommate and was supposed to be aj’s god mother but she went missing during their uni years
the name“Julia” came from her paternal grandmother who she gets her wide doe eyes from
her athleticism definitely came from her dad
Her mother luckily liked to document things so there’s a bunch of home videos of her dad in them & pictures/scrapbooks that her mom has for safe keeping
She’s more of a klutz, tiny, and wears huge prescription glasses
extremely close to the three most important ladies in her life, so she’s always been able to be open with them about anything!
when she first expressed her interest in liking both genders around 17-18 her paternal aunt was all smirks, “i knew Britney Spears was so your type, yeah?”
more like shakira but Brit was just as pretty
her mother was a “cry baby” so ofc she burst out into tears squeezing aj’s limbs and peppering her face with kisses. She didn’t view her child as anything different... as she shouldn’t & was glad that her daughter trusted them with this significant moment in her life and wanted to be as supportive as she could
got books, watched Ted talks and everything but knew she could come to the source even tho aj was still figuring it out herself
her grandma dipped her head at the new info sitting at the round kitchen table, “been there. had a few broads in my life after and during my marriage with your no good grandad. Thank goodness the bastard died before you even got to meet ‘em.” “Mum!”
what felt like the biggest weight on her chest was lifted. She knew they’d understand but a part of her had a little bit of doubt, she’s heard so many horror stories where those like her didn’t have the support she has and that made her extremely sad to think about
i see her as a person that has/had many friends in secondary. She’s always open to chat and her being on a few sports teams helped her out in her case
very competitive in anything that she does & will guarantee that she’ll beat you. (“ You wanna race to the car from here?”wins. “Who ever cleans the most dishes the fastest gets the last slice of pie.”) majority of the time she’s right but if she loses?? oh don’t let her lose to you, it’s a pity party for the rest of the time ur in her space. Such a sore loser omg
stays active, always working out + has a gym membership and makes sure she goes at least five times a week
she’s very strong, loves leg day & working on her core
she’s about 5’10
loves wearing “gf jeans” since they’re super comfy but doesn’t mind skinny Jeans with rips in the knees every now and then
trainers and chucks are her go-to sneakers
has no issue shopping in the men’s section ‘cause who’s gonna stop her? Nobody that’s who
owner of over a 100 graphic tees + vertical stripped shirts are also her favs, SWEATPANTS/joggers?! How many does she have? A lot. Snapbacks? Plenty. Will she wear them backwards? Obviously.
Physical touch is her love language. She’s comes from a family that has no issue showing their affection by touch. There is NO such thing as personal space and that still stands with aj when it comes to relationships, she sees no other way
It’s what she shows and what she wants in return, if you’re not touching her in some sort of way, then automatically she thinks there’s something wrong or that she did something
Is the jealous type. It has shown in relationships and ruined a relationship or two
Has cheated on a significant other out of pure jealousy & is not proud to admit that
Does have a wandering eye but feels now that she truly understands herself when it comes to relationships, she’ll never act on it again
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I get libra tendencies from her so that’s what I’m sticking with. She likes to keep the peace (unless she’s jealous) , idealistic — always looking on the bright side of things, outgoing, romantic, and professional— especially when it comes to her team; her true leadership comes out, yet she can be indecisive, hates confrontation, self pitying — if things don’t go perfectly how she imagined/planned it to, the world is ending and everyone is out to get her, and can be unreliable—never on time
September libra to be exact
if she’s really in love/taken a interest in you then she gets nervous: blushing, sweaty palms, cracking her knuckles, tongue tied—the whole 9
she’s already defined as a puppy by her coach but when she’s in love? She’s a lovesick puppy!
her fav holiday is Valentine’s Day
thought she was going to be a pro skateboarder growing up but it took one bad fall where she thought she was paralyzed for her to choose something else
she likes her weed on occasion
Obsessed with all types of cheese except cottage, “can I put cheese on this?”
more of a jumpsuit kinda girl or dressy top with jeans & hoops on a night out
has a solid group of mates outside of the hockey team, they’ve all met and hung out a couple of times, as they should since aj feels they’re going to be stuck with her for awhile so why not?
They’re a riot when they all go out, let’s just say that there’s never a dull moment
fav color is periwinkle
enjoys ASMR, mostly in the mornings when she’s waking up. You know how people love podcasts? (Sorry seb & Nicky, she still wants to be on the show soon!) ASMR is her thing
loves tangerines, you can count on it that she’ll have one on her, “where did you pull that from?” “I’ll never share my master plan.” “You’re such a tit.”
Definitely prefers “fresh squeezed” orange juice & will make her own, she has the tools & the strength 😏
Very rare for her to get sick ;) & if she does she’s a complete baby about it
Will fight that she’s sick before she admits it, trying all sorts of horrid remedies & vitamins
loves summer & all things that come with it, the number one thing is leaving bath for however long she can for a new place to enjoy
when she arrived to love island, she was thrilled for the weather. Yes she was looking for love but most importantly a nice get away & that it was (depending on your route that is lol)
closest with seb, vieve, elladine, and tai but don’t tell the others that! (She doesn’t care if you tell Yasmin, honestly)
just because her & seb “dated” and it didn’t work out doesn’t mean they can’t be friends right? It was almost automatic for them to be platonic after it was determined there would be no romance between them, almost like sibs! like those celebs like to say—except this time these two won’t turn around and actually find romance
vieve came with seb so...but no shade aj did like vieve. She gave great advice (while seb sometimes didn’t say the right things unintentionally or what aj needed to hear) when needed, especially from a medical view and is very sweet
elladine was the one who had all the tea & ideas to match, she’s quite organized and always down for DIY’s and could suggest almost anything. If you needed someone to help you get things tidy or match/find your Aesthetic, she’s the friend you call to help
tai was the one she could be a “bro” with, sure elladine has her competive side (or controlling, depends on how you view it) but tai was the one you can run to for much needed “bro hugs”, partying, going to the pubs, playing sports with or against, checking out/flirting with babes, etc...
it was not long after the villa that aj had a revelation with her sexuality & fully owned and labeled herself as a lesbian
She was happy being in relationship with someone else or with herself, life was short and she was young so there wasn’t time to dwell and stress over things so what the hell?! Live your truth the best way you know how ya know?
probably smells like sweet citrus, almond flower, and sea salt
on chest days, she’s a sweets snacker. Loves gummy bears (also with vodka) , swedish fish, sour patch kids, etc...basically shit that sticks to ur teeth
put all her chips into hockey, while it was advised by her Counselors & mum not to do so, aj went about it anyway. She thought about the pros and cons but knew there was nothing else for her. So there were more pros than cons. She was meant to play sports, its what felt right in her soul
Made her feel connected to her father, when she’s on the field she feels that he is with her
 scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated or confused about something
Doesn’t always grasp concepts right away, she’s a soft dummy but most of us are and that’s okay! We’re all smart in our own ways
Feels like sunflowers are always around her especially if she sees them wherever she is. They must symbolize SOMETHING, therefore she loves them
spf queen. All about it, get with it or let the sunrays ruin ur skin that’s on u
loves a good filet mignon medium-well & is probably the only good thing she knows how to make alongside a salad, baked potatoes, & her oj
sucker for romantic-comedies...it’s basically her life duh!
If she has a dog, it’s a Dalmatian or Great Dane. She needs a companion that’ll keep up with her
loves kissing, it’s her favorite form of intimacy
Quarantine life included the push up challenge for her. Gaining a few pounds in muscle and fat, bothering seb via ft, viewing old letters she wrote to her dad, spending time with her fav ladies since they were now restricted from having guests in their home, and letting boredom consume her + she hated the whole lockdown that came with it, she hated being indoors for long periods of time but she knew that’s what partly needed to be done
Posts a lot of beach, park, outings with her friends & team, moments with her fav ladies, workout videos, and guests at the b&b with their permission and if only she befriends them along the way. She’s just as active on the socials as she is in rl but she’s not obsessed with it, she knows how to live in the now. She’s all about balance!
I also feel like she never keeps her phone charged and it’s always dying on her! She had a car charger but...that’s a jungle. She needs to invest in a portable charger stat
crushing on/finds attractive: Jared Padalecki, Keanu Reeves, Barrett Doss, Camilla Luddington, Sandra Bullock, Adrian Kempe, Harry Kirton, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Naomi Osaka, Ming & Aoki Lee Simmons
who does she listen to? Shakira lol!! Bea Miller, Dua Lipa, Daya, XYLØ, Elley Duhé, Stela Cole, Aloe Blacc, Maroon 5, Lewis capaldi, Charlie Puth, girl in red, Hayley kiyoko, king princess, dodie, & tessa violet
Anthem: Icona Pop — we got the world
59 notes · View notes
fanfic-me-up · 4 years
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Yoga with Bakugou Katsuki
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Your weekly competition with archrival and secret crush, Bakugou Katsuki, takes a turn when you invite him to yoga class. Maybe your hope to become something more is not so one-sided after all?
Title: Winning in Downward Dog
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!Reader
Warnings: Bakugou trying to be a flexible pretzel and failing 😂😂
Word Count: 2,696
a/n: This is basically a crack fic pls forgive me lol If you enjoy, pls like and reblog! 💖 You can request more here. Side note: For anyone wondering, this was originally posted on my first bnha blog, but that has since been deleted. 
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You’re currently pinned beneath Bakugou in the middle of a training exercise where you’re supposed to be on the SAME TEAM. 
“Yield,” Bakugou says.
“Never,” you say.
It’s known in Class 1-A that you and Bakugou have a weekly competition where each of you pick a different activity to see who wins. This competition sometimes gets in the way of school. Most of the time you understood the concept of forgoing pride for the sake of education, but when it came to Bakugou fucking Katsuki you became equally hot-headed and stubborn.
Class 1-A groans in unison. 
Midoriya raises his hand.
“Sensei, you’re going to erase their quirks, right?” He looks genuinely concerned.
“Ugh, I hope so! I don’t wanna be here all day. Again.” Mina complains.
You knee Bakugou, but he won’t budge. He smirks at your struggle.
“Tch. You have to do better than that, dumbass.”
He places more of his body weight so there’s no escape. You can’t help the flutter in your chest at the sudden closeness. He’s radiating pure heat and the faint aroma of caramel emanating off him does little to clear your head.
Yes. It’s true. You have a crush on the one person who’s more concerned with pinning you to the ground during a training exercise than pinning you down on his bed where you belong dammit!
“Can ya’ll wrap this up? Some of us have plans tonight!”
Of course Kaminari would interrupt your fantasy just when it gets to the good part.
“Chill, bro, the movie doesn’t start ‘til 7,” Kirishima says.
“Can I come?” Mineta asks.
“No.” The Bakusquad reply in unison.
You buck up against Bakugou. Your leg slips from his hold and you manage to wrap it around his waist, flipping him over. He grunts as his back hits the ground. You hear crackling, but before he can set off his quirk, you counterattack, leaving him with no opening.
Class 1-A  collectively gasps as you pull an UNO reverse card. Cheers erupt from the girls at the same time the boys groan.
The class has an ongoing bet on who would win your competition at the end of the semester. Bakugou is ahead by one, but you might even the score today.
“You get ‘em girl!” Mina shouts.
“Awww dude way to let the boys down!” Kaminari shakes his head.
“Shut up, shitty hair!” Bakugou shouts.
He glares at the rest of the class, daring them to utter another word. They don’t. A couple minutes pass of Bakugou trying every which way to get out of your hold and you countering every one of his moves with ease.
“I could do this all day,” you say.
“Me too,” Bakugou spits, sparks erupt from his palm.
“I can’t,” Aizawa says, erasing both of your quirks.
Class 1-A groans in unison once again.
“Ugh! But Sensei it was finally getting interesting!” Kaminari says.
Yeah, just like my fantasy was getting interesting until you interrupted it! Hmph!
“Guess nobody wins this time,” Kirishima shrugs.
“Technically I won,” you say.
You gasp as you feel the wind get knocked out of you and suddenly you’re looking up at vermilion eyes.
“No, I win.” Bakugou smirks.
You can’t bring yourself to be upset as his hands grip your wrists. You’d lose a million times over if it meant Bakugou touching you.
“Say it.” 
You cock your head, “Say what?” 
“Say ‘I win’.” 
“I win.”
Bakugou’s nose scrunches in frustration.
“That’s not what I- you know what I mean!”
Aizawa clears his throat. 
Both of you turn to see Class 1-A hanging onto your every word like they’re watching the final battle in Avengers: Infinity War. Kaminari is munching on some popcorn, passing the bowl around to the rest of the class.
How did that boy even…? Nevermind.
It’s best for you not to think about the weirdness that is Class 1-A. It would only give you a headache.
“Nobody wins. You both failed the exercise,” Aizawa says, “And get up. You’re both making me uncomfortable.” 
You and Bakugou make awkward eye contact before he gets off of you. You swear a tinge of red flushes his cheeks as he offers his hand for you to take, but you know he’s only offering it as a sign of respect. That doesn’t stop your hand from shaking as you reach out to take it. You mumble a quick ‘thanks’ and he responds with a soft ‘whatever’ as he helps you to your feet.
“Class dismissed,” Aizawa says. Mina and Kaminari whoop before racing to the dorms. Everyone else follows, leaving you and Bakugou trailing behind. You’re racking your brain trying to come up with something to say. You don’t want to let this opportunity of getting Bakugou alone go to waste. 
C’mon, Y/N think of something…  Oh! I can ask about the movie they’re watching tonight? No… he’ll think I wanna come along or something, which I do, but I don’t want him thinking I do! 
Oh lord have mercy on me.
You’re about to fuck it and pull a ridiculous comment about the weather out of your ass when Bakugou speaks up.
“I won.”
You raise an eyebrow. He’s still on that?
“I did.” 
“Why do you have such an obsession with winning?” There’s no malice in your tone. You just genuinely want to know.
“You wanna die!?” Bakugou puffs his chest, tiny sparks fizzling in his palms, ready to blast at any second.
You throw your hands up in surrender.
Please don’t kill me. 
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to strive to be the best. That’s why we’re all here. But we were on the same team today, Bakugou, and you still couldn’t handle the fact that I would be the one to lead our team to victory. Why?” 
You’re just as competitive as the next U-A student trying to go pro, but even you knew when to quit, especially if it jeopardizes the team or the mission. Your quirk was just a better fit for this particular exercise and Bakugou knew that.
“I don’t need to listen to this bullshit, especially from a fucking extra.” Bakugou stomps off.
“Wait! Bakugou!”
You stop him by touching his arm; he jerks at the contact as if he’s been burned. 
“Don’t touch me!”
You try to hide the hurt as you take your hand off his arm.
Of course he’d hate the idea of touching me in any way besides holding my hand to arm wrestle. Ugh! Why can’t I have a crush on literally anyone else!?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Whatever. What’s the challenge this week?” he grumbles, looking away from you.
You didn’t want to push any further and make Bakugou hate you even more. It’s sad to know you don’t have a chance with him which is why you look forward to these competitions. If this was the only way to spend time with him, then you’re gonna take it. 
“Yoga tomorrow at 8.”
“Tch. Yoga? My grandma does yoga on her deathbed.”
“If you don’t show up, guess it means you forfeit and I win.”
You walk away knowing full well Bakugou won’t back down from a challenge. You hear him shout from across the way.
“Like hell I’d forfeit, loser!”
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You’re warming up before class when the doors swing open and in walks Bakugou with a permanent scowl etched on his face. The class regulars (who are all girls) huddle together whispering about the “hot new guy.” 
Bakugou unfolds his mat next to yours.
“Oi, Y/L/N.”
You turn to him, “Morning to you too, Bakugou.”
“Get ready to die,” he smirks.
You roll your eyes at the dramatics. 
“Please, I’m sure I can beat someone who yells ‘DIE GERMS’ every time he brushes his teeth.”
Bakugou’s teeth clench at the dig against his personal hygiene habits. You could see the vein on his forehead threatening to pop. Teasing Bakugou always brought a smile to your face. He was just so cute when he got riled up.
“You wanna go, shitty woman!?” 
It’s too easy.
“Save that for the field,” you say before returning to your stretches, but you’re interrupted once again.
“Psst.”
You turn to the girl next to you.
“You know him?” She nods at Bakugou stretching with his earphones in. The scowl on his face reads “fuck off”.
“Yeah, why?”
“He’s hot.” The girl sighs in a daze.
I know, girl. Trust me, I know. 
Every aspect of Bakugou’s body screams power. He trains harder than most and it shows. The long grueling hours spent going to the gym and honing his quirk have really paid off. From defined shoulders, to the lines of his six pack visible even underneath his shirt, all the way down to the powerful thighs that could crush you in an instant and you would happily thank them for it.
“I can hear you,” Bakugou snaps. 
Shit.
Your heart skips a beat, afraid you pulled an Izuku with thinking out loud. Thankfully, he’s referring to the girl next to you who squeaks and returns to her stretches. 
Phew… That was a close one. 
You clear your throat.
“You better not get us kicked out of this class, too. I actually like yoga.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirks.
Bakugou got you both kicked out of the chess club when he went all ‘sparky sparky boom boom man’ on the chess board after you won. The president of the chess club cried. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Now, you both have to play chess in the dorms.
The class begins with simple stretches. You sneak a peek at Bakugou who looks oddly calm for once. You’re used to him either being angry or… being angry. There really was no in between for the boy. But right now, with his eyes closed, he looked almost at peace. 
“I can do this in my sleep.”
And of course the moment is ruined the moment he opens his mouth.
“This is only the beginning, my friend,” you say.
Bakugou loses some of his vigor halfway through. He’s huffing and puffing as you go into an intense hip flexor stretch.
“You okay there, buddy?”
You’re sweating a bit by this point, but not as much as Bakugou who’s struggling to keep up.
“I’m fine,” he snaps. 
The class goes into the splits. Your split is perfect, but Bakugou is still a little ways off the floor. He tries to subtly wipe the sweat beading down his forehead.
“You know yoga has a ton of amazing benefits. If you keep at it, you could knock someone out going into a downward dog.”
“Shut up,” he grunts. His knees buckle under the pressure of the new position.
“Y/N, can you assist our new student?” Your instructor asks.
The rest of the class turns to you and Bakugou. 
“Oi! I don’t need any help, old hag!”
You grimace at his loud tone, a harsh opposition to the otherwise calming atmosphere.
“He doesn’t really mean that,” you try to cover for him.
“Yes, I do! Oi! Stop looking at me dumbass, yes, you over there-”
You muffle his screaming with your hand against his mouth. You place your other hand on his waist and guide him into the correct position. You can tell he’s holding his breath.
“Breathe. That’s it. Now tighten your core like this,” you whisper in his ear. Your hands glide down his stomach. His ears are beet red and he’s looking anywhere, but at you.
“Are you okay?” 
“Tch. I’m fine. Now, get your hands off me, shitty woman.”
You sigh. Of course. Should I expect anything else at this point?
All the women bounce up to you at the end of class. They’re giggling and sneaking glances at Bakugou who’s rolling up his mat.
“Who is that?”
“Do you know him, Y/N?”
You’re taken aback. Since when were you on a first name basis with any of these girls? For the past three years you preferred to stay in the back of the class and leave once it ended. The women are a bit… much and they don’t pay much attention to you anyway, just the way you like it, so it’s startling when eager eyes are on you awaiting a response.
“Is he single?” Another girl asks.
I certainly hope so.
The group shushes each other as Bakugou walks up to you.
“Same time next week, loser?” 
Next week is his turn to choose the competition. Does he really think he has a chance of getting his splits down in a week?
“You want to do yoga again?” 
“Not for our competition, idiot.” The excitement radiating from the group of girls behind you only feeds your heart fluttering in your chest. You don’t want to get your hopes up, but Bakugou has never been interested in meeting up with you outside of class if it’s not for your competition. 
You want to be sure of what he’s asking. You couldn’t bear the thought of believing this is leading to something more only for Bakugou to say it’s not. 
“If not for our competition, then what for?” 
Bakugou looks at you, his cheeks are flushed red and you know it’s not from the yoga anymore. 
Holy shit, is this it? Is Bakugou fucking Katsuki actually asking me out? After we just spent the last hour in downward dog? Note to self: I’d like to give a shoutout to the yoga gods that made this possible. You the real ones.
You lean against the wall in an attempt to be casual, but it’s only because your legs are literally shaking from the excitement that Bakugou is asking you out. 
Bakugou glances at the girls behind you murmuring between themselves.
“Tch. Forget it.” He grabs his bag and walks out.
Wait. What? No! Come back!
You hear the girls gossiping with each other, all of them excited that Bakugou’s becoming a yoga regular.
“He’s coming back next week!?”
“Ugh! He’s so freaking hot! I can’t even!”
“What should I wear!?”
You don’t pay them any attention as you run out the door in an attempt to salvage... whatever you have with Bakugou. It’s complicated, okay!?
“Bakugou!” 
He doesn’t look back, but you know he heard you. 
“Bakugou! Wait!” 
“What!?” He snaps, but the blush on his cheeks give him away.
“I’m down for the same time next week.” 
He crosses his arms and scowls.
“Are you deaf? I said forget it.”
“Oh.” 
Bakugou sighs; his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture you’ve only seen a couple times from him.
Wait is Bakugou… nervous? 
“I know I’m gonna pop off on one of those girls and I don’t want to get you kicked out. I know you like yoga for whatever goddamn reason…” 
“What if we had a private yoga class?” 
You’re fully prepared to be rejected. Your relationship was one of rivalry and competition, what you’re suggesting would be breaking into new territory, but you were tired of pining. It was better to know he doesn’t like you than to spend your time at U.A. wondering. 
Bakugou doesn’t expect that question and you certainly don’t expect his response.
“I do need to practice my splits more.” He looks down at the ground, ashamed for admitting he needs practice. You can tell he doesn’t admit this to just anybody. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of Bakugou viewing you as more than just the extra he claims you are.
“I can help with that,” you say.
“Tch. I don’t need your help.”
You shrug, “Fine, don’t come crying to me when you break your hip. You’ll never be able to take someone down in downward dog.”
“I CAN TAKE ANYONE IN DOWNWARD DOG! JUST YOU WATCH, SHITTY WOMAN!” 
You laugh as he childishly stomps off, gripping his palms tight to keep from exploding.
Way too easy.
Bakugou ended up taking Midoriya down in downward dog. Nobody saw it coming, but you. He thanked you with a movie date and a kiss at the end of the night. 😊
296 notes · View notes
brave-clarice · 3 years
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“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 7
disclaimer: there’s going to be discussion of a lot of little details I disliked in this one, but as a whole, I liked it a lot better!
honestly? Clarice’s coworkers have every reason to question if she’s “okay” given what we’ve seen so far on this show.
and yeah, coming back from leave a week after being repeatedly tortured does “seem soon”.
AG Martin is using Clarice just as badly as Crawford ever did.
why does Krendler look so sharp? tailored waistcoat, crisp shirt...his costumes would look more in-character for Hannibal than Paul Krendler. I don’t get it.
not sure I like the “my people mined coal, so we know when we’re okay to work” flex, but...whatever.
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she makes some truly uninspired costume and hair choices look great
“who am I, James Bond?” are you an FBI agent or aren’t you, Krendler?
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BIG Jack Crawford and his Pepto Bismol vibes, but dammit, Krendler should NOT be like Crawford!
now Ardelia’s back to collaborating with Clarice on a case like it’s no big deal??? way to make her look like a hypocrite. again.
idk, I still think Ardelia could have an FBI subplot AND be part of Clarice’s life without constantly working with Clarice within an FBI context (their careers don’t really intersect in the books). those things aren’t mutually exclusive.
“he died instantly” um, is Clarice a medical examiner now? I know she’s got a forensics background, but she’s just now seeing the body.
“Cody didn’t feel any pain” how does Clarice know that and why is confident enough to say it to the kid’s mother?!
also, are victim’s family members usually allowed right into the crime scene like that? paging @special-agent-pendragon​!
“let’s talk when we can” Clarice, honey...you literally live with Ardelia, lmao.
the crooked lawyer’s office reminds me a LOT of Chilton’s office in Silence.
Paul Krendler: Good Guy and Faithful Husband...don’t know him!
and again...this is a waste of time on Clarice’s show.
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she’s so dang cute!
hey, a reference to Ardelia’s grandma!
Clarice and Ardelia working on a case together at home, off the clock, is way more on brand!
also Clarice eating junk food...that’s my girl :)
I too sometimes eat Lucky Charms out of the box, haha.
omg, Ardelia’s actual grandma!!!
and: a reference to her frying pan, the one Clarice looks into after reading Hannibal’s letter!
Clarice is finally laughing and drinking and having a good time with her best friend...I’m so happy about it.
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literally exactly what I wanted/this show NEEDED
“at least my father‘s still alive” oh...my god...they really made Ardelia Mapp say that to Clarice... I...don’t know what to say except that I hate it. the scene was so great otherwise, too.
to be clear, imo this is not an appropriate thing to say to your best friend, ever.
Clarice might be drunk, but her nonchalant reaction (giggling!) is all wrong too, particularly for this Clarice, who’s always been shown as deeply traumatized/haunted.
maybe I’m 100% off-base on this, but I feel like Ardelia’s backstory in this show is at odds with her career choice: why does she go into law enforcement at all? does she truly believe she can make a substantial difference? hope this is addressed at some point.
“I can’t believe you never told me that before” I know this is expository, but I can’t believe it, either, Clarice.
there’s no indication in the books that Mrs. Starling was “always angry” or that Clarice was intimidated by/scared of her outbursts. she saw her mother as a pillar of strength! I don’t like this change tbh.
“he was the law. he was important” mmm...Clarice’s father was not important, and that’s the core of the tragedy, of her anger. it’s why Hannibal calls him the “night watchman” and the reason the Starlings didn’t receive any money or support after his death. he was expendable.
to be fair, I guess maybe this is supposed to be what Clarice’s idea of him was as a child.
this scene is full of little things I don’t like, and Clarice’s father giving her the add-a-bead necklace is definitely one of them.
in the book, Hannibal guesses that Clarice is afraid her beads now look tacky (having been previously trendy in the early-to-mid-80s...so, well after her father’s death). there’s NO indication they had any sentimental value (in fact, they’re never mentioned again iirc)--and with four kids to support, how can he afford to give his eight- or ten-year-old daughter decent jewelry, anyway???
I like the IDEA and the FEELING of that scene. just not the dialogue. and the entire thing is slightly undercut (imo) by Ardelia’s earlier mean-spirited comment. idk. it was cute, but this show’s writing is its own worst enemy.
Ardelia called her “Starling”! :)
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Clarice’s costume is yet again blah, while Ardelia’s is great...anything but 199x, though.
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money shot!
whew...didn’t see THAT plot twist coming.
Good Guy Paul Krendler continues to be a thing for some reason.
does the Hoover building only have one hallway?
Krendler gaslighting Clarice because someone is blackmailing him doesn’t hit the same as Krendler undercutting her career because he’s a sexist jackass who wants to fuck her. sorry.
Good: Clarice laughing/smiling/joking/having fun with her friend! A (could-have-been-better) bonding scene with Ardelia. Clarice getting to work a field case and the iconic shots that come with that territory. Ardelia’s grandma! Not a single mention of the Bill case, thank God.
Bad: Some of Clarice’s snap forensic judgments...they just felt too fast and unconvincing to me. Everyone’s costumes and hair continue to underwhelm me. (Why has Paul Krendler stolen Hannibal’s wardrobe? Why can’t Clarice wear something even remotely exciting?) Ardelia’s awful “at least my father’s still alive” comment. The muddled implications about Clarice’s mother (especially in an episode about an abusive mother).
Ugly: Krendler subplot, as usual.
Overall? Better. Much better. Absolutely a case of “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts”. Despite its subject matter, this episode was a lot more pleasant to watch than the previous two. Clarice had a limited amount of character development beyond “doe-eyed and traumatized,” she actually got to laugh, enjoy life, eat junk food (!) and solve a case with a friend before it all went to hell. 
I want more, though. The writing leaves a lot to be desired. There were a lot of small details of which I was critical, namely Ardelia’s insensitivity towards her best friend (unfortunately, this seems to be part of a pattern) and several minor but jarring and pointless changes to the books (mostly having to do with the Starlings). Most of the ViCAP team is still pretty one-dimensional, Krendler continues to get way too much screentime, Ardelia is hit-or-miss.
And Rebecca Breeds has to milk every moment and every line for whatever nutritional value it’s worth re: Clarice’s character. Even after seven episodes, I don’t feel as Rebecca’s Clarice has been allowed to fully emerge as the iconic character we know from the books. But I’ll keep on hoping...after all, there are at least three episodes to go!
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rippingattheseams · 3 years
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(this is a really long and messy vent post so like feel free to ignore this i just want to write whats going on in hopes of it making me feel better)
okay so yesterday was my first day of this stressful summer camp thing i have to do for a scholarship program and it’s literally just school in the middle of june and after freaking out abt it enough it turns out my grandma, who ofc is the only one besides my brother who doesnt seem to forget i’m there likely has stage 5 kidney failure (which is fatal) and i’m probably gonna have to go and see her within a week and the only death i’ve experienced of someone close to me is my dog when i was 9 and i forgot how awful it feels. i also was talking to my only friend about stuff because i’m getting my fourth therapist after finally starting to kinda open up to the last one but now she’s also leaving (she should be back in fall cause she’s having her kid but it still sucks cause i was starting to feel okay with her) and even though i never was able to tell her a lot of going on and she never gave advice she just let me vent, i still don’t want to see another one but back to the original point me and my friend were on ft and i found two of my old diaries from 1st grade and 3-5th grade and although it was mostly funny cause i was a fucked up kid who did fucked up things and couldn’t spell (and still can’t tbh) some of it was depressing especially considering how young i was. there was stuff about how i was so lonely and you could tell just by how much i wrote about this friend that i really relied on her for so much and not really in the venting kind of way i just liked her so much cause she was the only one who didn’t judge me or leave me. i didn’t have many friends throughout elementary and none of them except for her talk to me now. i finally opened up to her about why i loved going to her house so much as a child and why i still feel so emotionally attached to her family despite them not really liking me anymore. as a kid my household sucked tbh. i remember going to her house for the first time and got confused on why they all ate dinner together and didn’t go off to their rooms. up until a littoe over a year ago i’ve never really had a family dinner (and now it’s just my mom making me sit with her in the living room cause after she found out i was cutting in 7th grade she wanted to keep an eye on me and we just watch tv now and eat which isn’t that bad cause i have a good relationship with her now) but my parents always fought, often physically, and my dad was always drinking and my mom was constantly tired. it’s still the same but without as much fighting, which ofc i’m grateful for, but i still hold so much resentment towards my dad mostly, but my mom too. my dad really does love me, and i know it, and it genuinely hurts him when im annoyed or angry with him. i feel so guilty but he was so awful to me and blamed me for a lot, and still does, and is narcissistic and has awful anger issues. in the last year or so ive really started to realize that this isn’t normal. my childhood consisted of so much and i just thought everybody went through it. i want to truly love my dad again but everytime he actually does or says something decent it just makes me remember all of the shitty things he did to me and my mom. going back to my friend i keep bringing up, i was always so jealous of her. her family really loved her, she has a sibling who actually lived with her and cared about her, teachers loved her, other kids did, her house was nice and everything worked, she was skinny, she was pretty, she lived in a nice neighborhood with other kids in her neighborhood she got to play with. i always wondered why i was never able to experience it. i still do. i mean i don’t want to just sit here and feel sorry for myself, but sometimes that’s really all i have the energy to do. everytime i think i’m finally getting better, this happens again. i was also in the internet way too young, and got groomed too many times. a lot of older men were creepy to me irl too. i’m starting to see how its affecting me now and how i’m like hypersexual until anything remotely intimate happens to me, even if it’s as small as a hug from family, and it makes me so
uncomfortable. i don’t even remember getting “the talk” i just knew everything from the interne. i even got porn bots sending me explicit shit in the 3rd grade. my friend was the best thing that ever happened to me, if i’m being honest. i was an awful friend to her because i’d randomly get mad at her for not doing anything and would stop talking to her. i was like a stereotypical toxic friend all through elementary and i’m still not sure why. i would randomly cut her off but every time i apologized cause i realized she was the only one i had left, she’d always accept. she honestly shouldn’t of, because i didn’t deserve it. she was always a pushover and i was always the pusher (for lack of a better word lmao) but i haven’t done anything like that to her in years. it’s embarrassing but i’m glad she did end up sticking through it with me since if we weren’t friends now, i probably wouldn’t be here. she is quite literally the reason i stopped halfway through my attempt in 7th grade. i couldn’t lose her and i knew i couldn’t do this to her. i was only ever mean to her in elem cause i never knew normalcy and just wanted to be like the popular kids and so i would try and mimic them to make myself less weird. it never worked, obviously, but honestly the fact that she put up with my bs for so long is a miracle.
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popculturebuffet · 3 years
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Ducktales Reviews: The Battle for Castle McDuck!
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How to sum up how I feel about this episode.... 
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Yeah that’ll do it. This wasn’t a BAD episode. It flowed nicely, had two great new additions to the cast.. but after weeks of really good episodes, warts and all.. this one was just.. okay. Part of the problem isn’t the episode’s fault as I went in expecting the answers to scrooge’s immortality, the answers to hortense we didn’t get last week, and you know donald and della actually getting to interact with their grandparents. I got.. pretty much none of that, though I did get some answer as to how Hortense lived long enough to have donald. But we’ll get to that. Point is part of the episodes baggage is on setting my expectations too high, the same happened with “Astro B.O.Y.D.” earlier this season and in hindsight, that one is really excellent even if it wasn’t the fenton episode I was hoping for, it’s still really damn good. THis one... even if it’s not what I was hoping ofr, while not bad it’s still pretty medicore. Let’s get into why shall we? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We open at Castle McDuck, where Webby’s narrating for people who didn’t see the last episode set here and aren’t obsessive about watching the show like you or I. And also because this time she’s not so starstruck that she can’t actually speak or function, so she can actually get all the lore she wants in. The family is here because while the Druid stones seem to be working, the mists protecting the castle, and keeping it out of lockstep with reality every 5 years, have suddenly vanished.  Naturally Fergus blames Scrooge for that. I’m mixed on this version of Fergus. While i’m fine with chanigng things up from life and times, having him live and having him resent scrooge on some level, it worked better last time as there was emotional weight and a reason behind it: Scrooge and him didn’t get along becasue Fergus missed his boy and resented that his sucess lost him a son and made him cold and bitter like Fergus himself. It fit both men to just be too damn proud to talk it out. So while Fergus being a bit crotchety still isn’t ENITRELY out of character him still being a dick to his son for no real reason and given no new one for being an asshole to him just annoys me. The character last time was three dimensional, understandable and likeable. This one is just a bitter old man constantly yelling at his son and doting on his daughter. More on that bit in a bit. 
Downy meanwhile is just as lovely as last time: Since she lived long enough to see her grand children this time, I love seeing her as a wonderful doting grandmother to her great grandbabies. She’s wonderful and I’m thrilled to see her again. It does however bring up one of this episodes biggest issues: Donald and Della are absent and this time for no good reason. Last time, it was fair enough to exclude Donald as there was no real space for him in the narrative, and he likely , even if he loved grandma and grandpa, didn’t want to have to explain his estrangment with scrooge to them and break his poor gram-gram’s heart. That’s fair.  This time though? Their not there because.. frank didn’t want to use them. That’s.. literally it. They could’ve fit fine into the family fued narrative epseically since we’ve seen them sibling squabble, and unlike other adventures they’ve been absent, where they clearly just wanted scrooge to have time with the kids, or in the case of rumble for ragnarok scrooge had valid reason for not using them, this time? There’s no good excuse. Della would want to see her grandparents, Donald would get drug along. They only appear every 5 years. WHy the hell wouldn’t they be here?! I get trying to have character ballance but we’ve had several episodes this season of just scrooge and the kids. We DIDN’T need it this time and the lack of characters dosen’t really change anything. It instead wastes plots like getting to see what Donald and Della’s relationships with their grandparents is like, or their aunt, or finding out how their mother died or at least fucking MENTIONING hortense outside of one word and a photo. YOu think the fact their sister is dead would be important to Scrooge and Matilda but it just.. never comes up. Their niece and nephew never come up and my patince comes up short. I’m fine with character ballance but i’m not fine with wasting a golden opportunity for character interactions we haven’t gotten. I get we just had two weeks of donald and della I do, but it dosen’t make this any less frustrating or nonsensical. Having characters appear two episodes in a row dosen’t magically make them irrelevant or we’d be seeing less of Huey or Louie or Dewey and outside of last week, we REALLY haven’t. If they can show up once an episode why can’t their parents?
Point is a mystery’s afoot, and so is THE PHANTOM BLOT.. to no one’s suprise as he was both in the episode’s description and frankly magic being drained is his mo, this time using a portable generator. Webby dosen’t catch on to this.. but  I let it slide as while she’s the only one to have really met and fought the blot.. she’s also busy with mc duck family stuff and frankly while a missing mystery is here, given how deep the mcduck rouge’s gallery goes, it’s not a stretch to say it could be any one of them. Especially Glomgold, who while not magic is willing to pay for rediculous shit why would “dispersing scrooge’s family castle’s mists to bug his parents” be any diffrent. Or possibly replace them as their son because he’s kind of nuts and entirely made of stupid and that’s why we love him. And Magica has the obvious motives of revenge on scrooge, as this isn’t her first set of dead parents, and a castle full of mystic wonders. It’s plausable to wait and see who it is first instead of just assuming it’s one guy. 
And yup there’s a mysterin town:A set of mystical bagpipes of the clan mcduck that can bring life to where there is none. We don’t know if they can raise the dead but they can bring inanimate objects to life so there’s that. But seriously Donald should take them to his parents graves just to be safe. But before we can get to duck necormancy we have to find them so we get... (checks notes) a Louie and Huey team up again where Louie is an abrasive jackass to his brother for planning ahead, despite the fact he’s been proven wrong on that front twice now, and is entirely insufferable and has learned nothing about trying to find a quick and easy way of doing things depsit elearning this lesson 80 times already. 
As you can tell I hate this subplot and am getting it out of the way NOW because it’s not good and treads ground we’ve tread THREE TIMES ALREADY. and you did it right the first time, you did it okay if sloppiily with let’s get dangerous. Why this ? Louie learns nothing, Huey learns nothing and it’s not funny.The two just search for the mystery, and Louie is impatient. Though talking with a friend in a ducktales server, i’m in one now and it actually really helps with these, did make me realize that Louie’s character development has stalled like I thought... it’s simply a Marco Diaz situation. Like the third season of star vs the forces of evil, it’s basically a coin flip if your getting a well developed verison of the character that’s been built up over multiple seasons.. or a jackass whose learned nothing and treats other people badly. Their different FLAVORS of jackass but jackass still tastes awful no matter who it is. It’s not as BAD as it was there as while it’s not helpign the character, it’s not actively having him do the worst things possible, but it still makes Louie’s plots a chore to sit through at times as when he’s not well written like with split sword, rumble for ragnarok or tickening, he’s just a 2 dimensional greedy jerkhole and I don’t want to spend time with him. And the other brothers have had times of being written one dimensional, not going to lie, but all I get from Louie in these plots is this:
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After almost getting his family killed, after getting scrooge’s fortune overnight with minimal effort and having everything he wanted only to learn, suprise, it takes a lot of work to maintain.. and he still just dosent’ get that the easy way isn’t always the way, and after the trickining and let’s get dangerous hasn’t learned his brother is usually right when he’s being anal retentive. This was fine in the last 2 seasons but too much has happened for him to get away with this shit and not come off as obnoxious. It just drags any episode it’s in down with it. I”ll leave the rest of the review under the cut. 
One more subplot before we dig into the main one: The Phantom Blot and his new partner, Pepper! If you don’t remember her it’s fine as she wasn’t named but she was the egghead voiced by Amy Sedaris who showed up for one scene back in the Blot’s first apperance and who frank said they had more plans for. Well we see those plans now as Pepper has been paired with the Blot for this mission as Bradford’s policy for missing mystery missions now is the buddy system. No going solo, despite the Blot really not liking any of this. Which honestly both fits Bradford, as he’s endlessly practical, and is just a good idea: most of his agents are kind of wild cards and have their own agends so forcing them to work together not only gives them better odds with scrooge, but prevents them from working their own angles against FOWLS better instrests. IN this case having the peppy, energetic and talkative pepper go with the closed off and dogmatic blot keeps him from going overboard, as Castle McDuck is basically one large magical nightmare for him to destroy and Blot keeps pepper on task and on stealth since, as we learn now we get to know her, she’s a bit overly excitable and not all that subtle, if not to dewey or della levels. She can stealth when necessary. She’s also DETERMINED to get the blot to bond with her and work with her, and is delighted to work with him, getting the job because.. no one else wanted it becasue the blot scares people and puts them off with his intensity, which he’s shocked about but really shoudln’t be. 
IT’s just a nice dynamic, he helps her be a better agent and she helps him realize he can’t do EVERYTHING alone and that blindly destroying all magic in his path, as much as he’d like to isn’t the option, using some runes to track them. Sure pepper makes their presence obvious once or twice, btu she’s also essential to the mission more often than not and by the end, even if they loose, we’ll get to that, Blot has fully accepted his partner. It’s.. honestly heartwarming when you think about it: The blot’s probably closed him off from personal relationships of any kind because A) his family got brutally murdered by the person he’s hutning and B), he has a mission he can never rest in. He likely wanted to work alone because it’s how he rolls nad i’t sonly through seeing someone who genuinely WANTS to be around him and wants his missiong ot succeed that he realizes he dosen’t have to push everyone away and allies are more useful than none. It’s a warped way of thinking but for someone with as much baggage as blotty, it’s progresss and it’s a really sweet story. HOpefully this relationship will go farther.. I mean strange relationships have happened than a dogmatic dog who hates magic and a peppy go getter both working for an obliviously evil businessman. 
So onto the main plot: Turns out Scrooge wasn’t the first person Fergus called this episode as we meet the DT17 version of Matilda! Horay! She’s voice by Michelle Gomez who like David Tennant and Catherine Tate before her is a doctor who alumnus.. though this time she’s past my time watching the show. I really gotta get on catching up. She played Missy, the female regneration of the master. Gomez is spectacular in the part here, and while I have no past experince with her I certainly want to see more of her work as she’s a delight.  Matilda is Scrooge’s sister. In the comics she was the duitful sister who looked up to her big brother as he left Scotland to make his fortune, sending money and mementio’s back she scrapbooked. She eventually went with Scrooge to america with him... but this didn’t end well as Scrooge took advantage of his sisters as help and when he finally did take them along on an adventure, it was his lowest point, going from an honest buisness man to a cruel robber baron for one moment and left him and his company. She and Hortense TRIED building a bridge with a suprise party.. but by that point while Scrooge had backed away from being a monster, he was still such a dick things blew up. As far as we know he never saw hortense alive again, and he only saw matilda in her old age with the two reconcliing. I’ll get more into ALL of this when I get to those pieces of life and times obviously. Point is she’s a good character.  And so is her reboot version.. but the reboot version did catch me off guard as, much like her dad she’s not really much like the sensible sweet woman from the comics. But given DT17 tends to really play fast and loose with previous versions of characters, and it often works out i’m not going to gripe about it: what  they did here works. As for what EXACTLY they did here, this version of Matilda is more flighty: not incomptient or lacking in charm, but due to sort of bouncing from one improable venture to the next and staying at her parents between ventures. She’s sort of a female version of Jubal Pomp, an itallian duck comics character who modelded himself after Scrooge, but dosen’t have the common sense or work ethic scrooge does. That’s really matilda here minus the looking up to scrooge part: she dosen’t seem untalented, just a bit footloose. She also likes needling her brother and is unsuprisingly her dad’s faviorite since she’s around more.  The two naturally get under each others skin, and we get our main conflict... not just because of their fighting.. but because Webby can’t help but mettle. She’s what makes this plot work: Webby can’t help but try to interfere because she dosen’t get siblings sometimes fight and have long standing resentments, something I relate to, and that stepping in or trying to end it sometimes just makes it worse. Granted sometimes’ it’s necessary, but in this casey Dewey, whose trying to inch her away is right on the money and after the awful plot with these two in SPlit Sword, it’s nice to see Dewey be in the right, but for actually good reason instead of just because the episode says so. Here he’s right that her getting involved will only escalate and her attempt to do so only reveals Matilda kidnapped scrooge’s pet hair clump and died it. She also has something resembling an emu.  This only makes things worse and starts to escalate tensions leading to some between both sides, as Fergus takes Matilda’s and Downy takes scrooges. Again REALLY could’ve used the twins. We do get a nice bit where Webby coaxe Dewey, who understandably dosen’t want to help her further spiral into her own issues by helping mend family issues she really isn’t qualified to solve.. because she’s you know... 13. I mean granted Steven Universe did this sort of thing at her age.. but given he eventually repressed his issues so much he had a mental breakdown and turned into a giant angst monster, and only got better with therapy.. maybe get some therapy instead Webby. Just saying. Therapy everyone? Therapy? But yeah she coaxes Dewey with a statdew, and yes she says that exactly.  This gets the family breifly united, as Dewey fakes an injury.. but finding out it’s fakkkke combined with Huey and Louie coming in just causes the enitre family to spiral into squabbling and webby to shut down a bit, with Scrooge planning to form his own clan after bickering iwth his parents and sister. Oh and it only gets worse when Pepper accidently brings some statues to life, and they get in on it too while Webby’s convinced the families over and she just wanted a place in it. And even if this isnt’ the BEST episdoe the show’s ever done, i’ll get to why in a second, I do like this. Webby’s nearly LOST this family once, way back at the end of season 1 when no one but beakly thought of her feelings about her best friends and surrogate uncle all leaving her after her other surrogate uncle you know.. said some pretty unforgivable things. She’s trying SO hard to force it to fit, so hard to fix things because she can’t stand them being broken, something I PAINFULLY relate to given my own personal issues with not being able to stand people being upset with me. She just wanted a family and i’ts gone.  Of course it isn’t and webby’s sad words coupled with some house crashers get the clan mcduck statues included to kick Blot and Pepper out and get the bagpipes back, while Scrooge points out it’s the good families that can withstand a squabble. So the mystery’’s gotten, Scrooge and Matilda are squareish... and this episodes thankfully over. Happy day! Final Thoughts: This episode is okay. I very clearly have my problems with it.. but it’s a fine half hour of television and funny enough to bounce through it with some good character stuff. It’s just after the last few weeks, and really this whole season.. I expect more. There was no real emotional core besides webby this episode and her issues wer eboiled down to “Families fight but it’s fine”.. which itself is a pretty uncomplicated message when family dyanmics can be complciated messy and painful. My family is thankfully fairly stable, if not without issues because hey no one is, but given other people watching might come from far worse homes where the bickering is far worse and far more toxic.. yeah maybe have some nuance here.  And this is from a show that usualy does that WELL: We saw it with Fergus last time before he was hollowed out for this episode and reduced to an angry dick. We’ve seen it with Donald and Scrooge’s estrangment or Donald and Della’s relationship: Family is complicated , messy and even good ones have problems. That should’ve been the message: family can squabble or even have serious issues but they come back together. Instead we just got a bunch of bickering for a cheesy message that dosen’t quite fit with what the series done. It fits for thanksgiving: family , the good kind, can last arugments and is there for you regardless.. and I know my family is. I just feel they could’ve done the message better. Basically the episode was fine... it just wasn’t up to the high standard this season has set even in it’s down turn and is easily the weakest epseically since Matilda really dosen’t feel all that fleshed out even though what we got of her was great. Basically not a BAD episode.. but it could’ve been a great one, and i’m disapointed the series didn’t try harder.  NEXT TIME: regular coverage for the year concludes as we go back a few months chronlogically to find out why Santa and Scrooge hate each other. IT’s christmas time ya’ll! Until then if there’s an episode of ducktales or another disney series you’d like me to take a look at, suggest it in the comments or comission it outright for give bucks via my direct messages on here or send an ask for my discord. Until we meet agian, there’s always another rainbow. 
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TW:// mentions of death, brief family dynamics mention, losing a friend
For context this happened late last night and I’ve been trying to get as many details as possible here.
Don’t feel obligated to read this. I know it’s long.
I recently had a friend unfriend me and I wanted to vent about that a little bit. This is really long, only read it if you really want to I just really need to talk about it somewhere else.
I am also sharing this stuff so you all understand me a bit better as a person. Because it is even more challenging for me online and I don’t want to lose any more friends, especially online friends because I can’t talk to you all in person.
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They have been known to do this to other people and everyone who it has happened to has still remained on the shit list. They screamed at me for over an hour on the phone because I was “a shit friend these past couple weeks or so.” They cited specific days where I didn’t answer them until later in the day and one specific day where they were stressed with school and wanted me to be there so they could vent and I could help them.
I tried explaining to them what was going on but I just ended up crying (I don’t normally cry a lot if that give you any idea how bad it was) and I didn’t get the words out. Mainly for a reason I’ll explain later but also because they sounded just like my dad when he yells and I just sorta shut down.
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Now they blocked and deleted my number and blocked me on all social media. (Our mutual friends told me.). They apparently told most of our friends what a piece of shit I am and a couple other people blocked me. They wrote a whole fucking essay about it but here’s the sparknotes:
-I go through periods of time where I am not a fun person to talk to, and they like me a lot better when I don’t have an “attitude”.
They specifically cited last year from late summer to winter, you’ll see why this is important.
-last year and this year I’ve “ghosted” people around the holiday season when I know it is rough for some people.
I try to check up on my friends when I know they are going through some shit, I try to send them useful stuff as well, everyone know that.
-I am too overly blunt and honest and not good at helping people with their issues.
I know I’m too blunt and honest , and you know what? I fuck up sometimes, but I usually don’t mean anything by it I’m just trying to help. As for helping people with their issues, if I wasn’t good at it why the fuck did they come to me in the first place.
-I have a perfect life, nothing bad ever happens to me and I’m nothing but a privileged asshole who doesn’t deserve to have a friend like them. I don’t know what it’s like to go through something difficult.
I’m not going to comment on this, I know I’m privileged, but I try to do good things with it.
-I pay way too much attention to my self and I am a “self centered piece of shit for not answering their messages that one day and for not being as fast with my responses as I normally am.”
You’ll see why this was a fucked up thing to say to me in a bit, I’m just writing this out very slowly and trying to avoid that part.
-I talk about myself too much when people come to me with advice, and people “shouldn’t come to me with advice or have to take that bullshit” because I am “undeserving of being in the loop about someone’s personal issues.”
This came up because one of our friends came to me with an issue instead of them. I know I often relate things back to me I didn’t think that was a bad thing because no one told me and that is just how I help myself understand what someone is going through, but I’ll stop doing that.
-Saying things like “I need to remove myself from this area.” Is extremely disrespectful to the rest of our friend group (I literally only go by myself it doesn’t affect them). For context my adhd is extremely severe to the point it’s considered to be a learning disability, what they are referencing is when I leave to go somewhere else because I am overwhelmed and overstimulated. They literally said and I quote “that shit is total fucking bull and you know it, I have adhd too, and I’m saying you’re fucking faking.”
First off they don’t have a formal medical diagnosis, just a suspicion, they haven’t even talked to their doctor about it. Not to mention everyone is different based off of severity and which symptoms are actually present. As part of my testing we opted for the comprehensive test to look at the severity of my adhd before moving on to being treated. In that test they observed me over the course of several hours to see how I reacted to different things. The things that were expected to be the worst symptoms for me were :
difficulty understanding and relating to others (one of my strategies I was told would help is to relate others experiences to mine)
difficulty in communication; reading directly off of my sheet and I quote “Emma was observed having a difficult time using nuance and understanding when was and was not the correct time to say something. Emma’s parents describe her as: extremely blunt to the point where it can be abrasive.”
sensory: specifically when things are too quiet, I also have an issue with overly bright lighting, and when I am very overwhelmed there is only a few people who I will let touch me when I’m “wigging out”
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I know I am privileged, but I really try to use that privilege to do good things and I didn’t know that I act uptight or like a dick in that way. If I do it’s either a joke or not intentional and I apologize.
That being said, just because I am privileged doesn’t mean my life is perfect and it doesn’t mean bad things don’t happen to me, it’s beyond fucked up to think that.
(The color for things related to this)
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A lot of the things they talked about are things they know I am insecure about to begin with and they know I am working on it. Most of them are literal symptoms of my adhd and things I struggle with on the fucking daily. I’m making them a different color so you can see what I’m talking about. Here’s the adhd related color.
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Now. Some of the other things they listed were in direct relation to my grandma passing away. If you know me, you know my grandma and I were very close and she in a way was like a lot like a parent to me. She had cancer and dementia and her health started a major decline in August of 2019, I spent a lot of time with her during this time and I was constantly stressed and worried about her. I didn’t really talk a lot about it because it’s hard for me to think about but I know this friend knew about this for a goddamn fact.
This relates to this because the period of time when I had “attitude” and “wasn’t a fun person to be around” was when we found out she would have 3 months if she was lucky, I spent every day with her during this time. Yeah I think watching someone slowly die and forget who you are is reason enough to be a bit not talkitive or please not.
My grandma died on December 4th 2019. The main reason my friend snapped was because I wasn’t their to help them with their stress on December 4th 2020. (They had screenshots). They yelled at me for over an hour because of the reasons of above and mainly, MAINLY, because I didn’t text them back fast on the anniversary of my grandmas death. I WAS AT THE FUCKING CEMETARY ASSHOLE DONT YELL AT ME FOR NOT RESPONDING RIGHT AWAY.
(This is the color for things related to this)
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I’m sorry this was really long but I’m just having a rough day. I thought I could trust this person and I thought we were ok, I just wish that someone would tell everyone this, but the people that blocked me also blocked my best friends.
If you have a problem with my behavior in any way, please talk to me before something like this happens. And please know that if I seem overly blunt or like I’m trying to steal the spotlight, just know that I don’t mean to and it doesn’t come from a place of malice. I don’t want to lose any more friends.
I know I fuck up, but there is reason behind it, but unfriending someone who you’ve been friends with for 7 years because they didn’t text you back from the cemetary is fucked up, I’m pretty sure anyone can see that much.
High school drama is fucking bullshit, I hate it here.
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badbhye · 4 years
Text
silly kitty
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pairing: hybrid!yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, hybrid au
word count: 2.8k
warnings: none really except drinking
A/N: this is super rusty and i thought of this when i was literally going through immense amounts of uni stress also .........this is super rusty but here’s a cute kitty!yoongi drabble anyway
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“Yoongi I’m sorry!” you huff, scurrying after him as he storms into your old bedroom.
“Yoongi,” you try again when he doesn’t acknowledge you. “Yoongi she was just trying to be nice, don’t take it too harshly.”
“Don’t take it too harshly, ___?” Yoongi seethes ringing out the cat toy in his hand before he’s tossed it on the floor. “She should’ve just slapped a collar on my neck,” he huffs, ears pushed back aggressively.
“Yoongi she doesn’t know better,” you try to calm him down but it doesn’t help like you hoped it would. 
“Yeah… she’s ancient, it’s impossible for her to even fathom the thought that I’m not just some pet.”
“Yoongi!” You angrily raise your voice. “Yes she made a mistake but she’s still my grandmother.”
The look alone has him pouting regretfully but he doesn’t respond, turning his back to you, shoulders hunched down. Something, you’ve come to realize, he did when he’s trying to be apologetic.
“Just,” you pause, sighing when he doesn’t move to look at you but notice his ears rise attentively. “Rest up… it was a long drive.”
You don’t wait for him to respond and leave to make your way to your living room.
“Nana,” you huff, moving to sit down next to her, resting your cheek on her shoulder tiredly.
“Do you think Yoongi would like this colour?” She asks, showing you a roll of bright blue wool. “He would look so adorable,” she hums, quickly grabbing her knitting needles from the basket next to her. You snort, picturing an angry Yoongi dressed in a certified Grandma Sweater with hair to match.
“He’ll love it,” you respond, more for your own enjoyment rather than his because you’re certain that Yoongi’s wardrobe ranges from black to grey.
You silently watch her knit, in awe of how her movements are so methodical and trained that she doesn’t even have to keep an eye on the wool, it’s like she knows. She chuckles at the soap opera playing on the television, her movements not pausing even a bit and you’re reminded of the time she tried teaching you the art of knitting only to have you make one corner of a scarf before it all unraveled. 
“I don’t think I made a good impression,” she says after a while. “I thought since Jiminie loves it so much, he would too…” 
“It’s not your fault, Nana,” you instantly reassure her. “He’s just more in tune to his human side is all.”
“I just don’t want to make a bad impression, it’s not every day you bring home a boyfriend.”
Her words have you stumbling back and almost comically slip down the sofa. “Nana Yoongi isn’t my boyfriend he’s my housemate. I told you this on the phone when I said he was coming with me.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” she hums, going back to her knitting. “I’m serious, Nana, don’t joke about it when he can hear!” you grumble, thoroughly embarrassed.
“Why else would he come here?” she raises an eyebrow at you, thick frames hanging low on her nose.
“I told you… I had to drag him here so he wouldn’t rot away and stink up the house,” you sniff, leaning back onto the old sofa and moving your attention to the television.
“Oh please, even Jiminie told me he was your boyfriend.” she hushes you, “I have to say, I thought you would tell me since we talk every week… but I forgive you because you brought him here.”
“When his Jimin coming home so I can firmly explain to the both of you that I’m not dating Yoongi,” you force a smile, words coming out too sweetly and your grandmother gives you a look that has you grumbling, eyes back to the show playing in front of you.
“He’s with Taehyungie,” she answers you after a while. “I told him to come home by dinner… but we’ll see when the time comes, that boy’s never been punctual.”
“I’m coming home after five months and he’s still ditching me for Taehyung,” you grumble, picking at a loose thread on your sweater. 
“Don’t pull that,” Nana slaps your hand, “And of course he should do that… Taehyungie is his boyfriend after all.”
“When did you get so snarky Nana?” You jab, “Have you been watching soap operas with Taehyung again?”
She lets out a hearty laugh and moves back to her knitting. You smile, happy that even though you’re not here a lot anymore, she’s not alone. She has Jimin and Taehyung, and occasionally Seokjin stops by to have tea and gossip. You’re glad to see traces of all these different people around the house, littered with pictures of Thanksgiving and Easter. You’re especially keen on that one Halloween Nana handmade costumes for Jimin and Taehyung and had them do a photo shoot in her garden.
You’re almost dozing off, surrounded by the comfort of familiarity when Jimin makes his way inside.
“I’m home!” he calls out loudly, his tail swishing behind him.
“___!” He jumps to the sofa where you’re laying, alone now since Nana was busy preparing dinner.
“I missed you!” he nuzzles your cheek, quickly moving to your neck.
“Missed me enough to ditch Taehyung?” you raise a brow, giggling when his breath tickles your skin.
“Why didn’t he come for dinner?” You ask, leaning back to your original position of laying across the whole sofa. Jimin is quick to settle on top of you, something you’ve grown quite used to, you smile when he begins to lightly purr when you card your fingers through his hair. Chuckling quietly when you had done it to Yoongi once when he fell asleep on the couch next to you, only to be hissed at.
Jimin’s ears flutter a little before he’s smiling at you again, “Taehyungie has an early morning… and you know how Nana is, she’ll have him watching her shows with him until morning.”
You laugh in agreement. Nana loved Taehyung so much you’re certain the reason she lets Jimin and Taehyung do whatever is so they’d get married and he’d move into her house.
Jimin’s purring gets louder and breathing a little deeper as he snuggles closer to you, tail wrapping itself around your thigh.
You’re sure he’s fallen asleep, it’s common for Jimin to just curl up and fall asleep just about anywhere. He took his naps very seriously, but ever since he and Taehyung started dating, he would get random bursts of energy, especially after spending time around him so much. So it’s not that surprising to see his ears twitch a little before he’s beaming up at you excitedly again. 
“I hear someone,” he smiles, turning to the staircase where you find a disgruntled Yoongi standing idle.
His hair’s a little unkempt and he’s squinting at the two of you. “You’re loud,” is the only thing he says to Jimin before he’s taking a seat on the adjacent chair, warily eyeing the way Jimin’s tail uncurls from your thigh.
“So this is the Yoongi I’ve heard so much about!” Jimin grins, sitting up. “Wow, ___, he’s cute!”
You notice Yoongi flush before he’s looking away, grumbling to himself.
“He is, isn’t he?” you coo, shooting Yoongi a smile and he’s shooting up, tail swishing nervously behind him before he’s making his way to the kitchen, mumbling about how your grandmother probably needs some help.
 “So…” Jimin looks at you once he’s sure Yoongi’s out of earshot. “It must be serious since you’ve brought him home.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” you deadpan, tired of having to hear this again.
“Okay… but you want him to be,” Jimin singsongs, “and he wants to be too.”
“You met him for a total of five minutes… are you using some sort of advanced hybrid senses?”
“No, dumbass, it’s called being intuitive… plus why else would he come here?”
“I dragged him here by his tail,” you repeat, “plus, I don’t really think he’s having a good time.”
“How good of a time can you have at someone’s grandmother’s house… unless you guys are kinky, I can put on headphones if you want me to, or if you’re not, Taehyung has a spare room in his apartment…”
“Not like that!” You shout, pushing Jimin off from you, cheeks flushed completely. “Yoongi’s sleeping in your room,” you explain, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Alright… I guess I can share with you,” Jimin laments, tilting his head - a habit he picked up from Taehyung.
“Your grandmother wanted me to tell you that dinner’s ready,” Yoongi says from the doorway, frowning a little at the way Jimin’s leaning closely into your personal space. You don’t notice though, too distracted by the frilly apron he’s adorning.
“What did I tell you?” You hear your grandma yell from the kitchen. “Call me Nana, boy!”
“Nana says dinner’s ready,” he corrects himself, cheeks matching the colour of his apron.
“Nana’s been planning this one for weeks… since you were bringing a guest,” Jimin explains, hurrying to the table.
“So I’m not the guest?” you laugh, moving past Yoongi who closely follows you.
“No… but you know she’ll take any excuse to cook fancy.”
Nana loved cooking, and she would go all out often, calling Seokjin or Taehyung over for dinner weekly so she could dish about the goings-on in the neighborhood. It was extremely nostalgic to come back to the sight on the table. And you’re terribly reminded of the fact that two minute ramen is not real food and what you’ve been missing out on for so long.
“Maybe I should move back here,” you say, sitting down, eyeing the food.
“What… do you not like my cooking?” Yoongi asks, taking a seat beside you.
“I don’t think making fry-ables is considered cooking, Yoongi,” you scrunch your nose before piling some food onto your plate.
“Don’t be rude to your guest, ___,” Nana says from behind you, taking your plate before you can as much as have a taste before placing it in front of Yoongi. “Here you go, sweetie, I hope you enjoy.”
Yoongi flushes once more, mumbling a meek thank you before he’s taking a tentative bite. His demeanor immediately changes once he’s had a taste of Nana’s cooking, tail swishing happily behind him.
“Here, ___, try this,” Jimin leans over the table to give you a spoon full of rice and gravy and you gladly accept, humming out appreciatively once you’ve swallowed down.
Yoongi’s rather silent for most of the dinner, except when he’s asked a question, and he only gives rather short answers. Nana doesn’t prod too much, shifting the focus on you.
“So, ___,” she begins. “When will I get to see you with a lucky fella… I’m not getting any younger…”
You groan, shoveling some more food into your mouth and notice Yoongi inquisitively looking at you as if he’s waiting for a response.
Dinner after that is least to say, quiet, everyone busy trying to finish their food. It’s when Nana brings out a bottle of wine do you know your night isn’t over yet.
“I bought this for the occasion,” she singsongs, placing four glasses in front of you.
“You’re not a very good influence, Nana,” you tease, already grabbing a hold of the glass she pours for you.
“It’s to digest your dinner,” Jimin helpfully puts in, already downing the wine in his glass in one go.
 When you’ve all moved to the living room, mindlessly watching a movie on TV, Nana is quick to retire, mumbling about how wine makes her sleepy. The wine bottle is almost gone, drunk mostly by Jimin who’s leaning on you from the left. To your right, however, sits a very rigid Yoongi, who’s trying desperately not to fall asleep, even though you catch his head lolling around a little before he’s sitting up straight once more.
It’s when he loses the battle and his head falls to your shoulder does Jimin peer over at you two.
“He’s all bark and no bite,” Jimin puts in, smiling at the way Yoongi’s cheeks squish against your shoulder.
You hum in agreement, “Yoongi’s really sweet, he comes off as very closed off and cold, but I’ve known him for a long time, and I think he’s the one person who’s helped me survive living on my own for this long.”
“How so?” Jimin asks, and you don’t have to mull it over to have an answer.
“When he figured out that Hoseok and I broke up, he was the one to remind me to eat all the time… he would leave snacks outside my door at night so I’d find them on my way to the bathroom. He even watered my plants for me so they wouldn’t die.”
“He’s whipped,” Jimin chuckles.
“He’s just a really good friend, even though Hoseok’s the one who introduced us in the first place, which led me to move in with him… he still looked out for me after,” you continue, feeling his soft snores brushing against your arm.
“I’m glad you have someone like him with you,” Jimin smiles softly, remembering how terrible he felt for not being there with you physically when you broke up with Hoseok.
“Yeah,” you agree, looking towards the blue fluff resting on your right and you don’t realize it until a loud purr leaves his lips that you’ve woven your fingers against his hair. Yoongi grumbles a bit before he’s snuggling even more against your arm. It’s when you scratch against his ears do his eyes open and he’s jumping back.
“Oh,” you say, a little startled, “you’re up.”
“...Yeah,” he mumbles, cheeks pinking up again before he’s clearing his throat.
“Maybe you should go to bed,” you pipe up, “that wine really does have a kick to it.”
“N-no… I’m fine, I’m up,” Yoongi says, even though his eyes begin to droop once more.
“You’re not,” you laugh, getting off the couch with Yoongi’s arm in tow. “Come on, I’ll take you to Jimin’s room.”
You’re moving up the stairs, Yoongi letting you drag him behind you until you reach your bedroom door.
“Yoongi?” you look over when he doesn’t move, eyes glued to your bedroom.
“Sleep with me,” he says quietly.
“What?” You know he doesn’t mean it like that but it’s still a shock to hear those words to come out of Min Yoongi’s lips.
“Sleep next to me,” Yoongi clarifies, “Not with him.”
You give him a knowing smile that has him glaring at you for a second before he’s pouting with his eyes downcast, cheeks flushed pink but you’re not sure if it’s from the wine or because he’s shy.
“Goodnight then,” Jimin grins, weaving his way between the two of you before he’s shut his bedroom door.
“Okay…” you say, making your way into your own bedroom. Yoongi sleepily drags himself towards your bed and is quick to burrow under the covers, you don’t even have the heart to tell him that he’s sleeping on your side of the bed. You gingerly get under the covers and Yoongi shuffles closer to you. It must be the wine, you didn’t think Yoongi had such a low tolerance but Nana always had an eccentric taste in alcohol.
It’s definitely the wine, you think when Yoongi nuzzles against your neck, grumbling a little until he moves back. “That’s better,” he mumbles before he’s settled back down, hand slowly snaking its way to hold your own.
“‘M cold,” he clarifies with one eye open. You know he’s lying when his hand is warmer than your own but you don’t mention it.
Yoongi’s quick to fall asleep after that, managing to slowly move closer to you until his arm is wrapped around your middle and you can hear his soft snores. It’s comfortable. You glance at him, noticing the way the moonlight makes his hair look black, reminding of the time you first met him. He’d never been one to change his hair until you came home with hair dye and bleach for when you and Hoseok were going to do each other’s hair. You’d broken up before you could get around to doing it so Yoongi did it with you instead. Yours had grown out back to your natural colour and you’d cut off the frayed parts, but Yoongi periodically came home with different colours and had you dye it in the sink. It reminded you of how much Yoongi had done for you, for how long he’d been there for you and how much he’d opened up to you. It was a slow process but it was one you were willing to go through.
Yoongi huffs before he’s grumbling in his sleep, moving until he’s comfortable again, his tail loosely winding itself around your leg. You smile at his movements, shifting a little so your fingers ghost the tip of his ears, making them flutter.
You smile, a realization you’d known for a while now, but slowly were beginning to accept. Maybe you did want him to be your boyfriend. And maybe he wanted to be yours too.
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In Corners
Calum never though he’d be a dad like this. But when it comes to his daughter, he’s always in her corner. Always and forever. 
What happens when you put together H’s love for angst+ Single!Dad Calum+ Coming Out?
This. This is the product. 
CW: Mentions of Death and health issues. Coming out. Some slight mentions of homophobia. Anxiety. 
Enjoy my masterlist
Feel free to support me on Kofi.
****No one has my permission to post this fic, including translations. Copyright be-ready-when-i-say-go, 2020.******
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Calum shouldn’t have sat down. That is his mistake. He figures he wouldn’t fall asleep. Not this fast, of course. That will always be false hope. That will always be him giving himself too much credit. If he sat down too long without anything to do, especially in the comfy single seater, it would be game over for him. He has an hour before he has to pick up Ariyana from Elizabeth’s house. He dropped her off earlier in the afternoon and said he’d be back to get her before dinner time. 
And after running errands, first to get groceries, then take the dogs to the vet, and be home for the cable company, all Calum really wants is a nap. Just a quick one. That’s all it’ll be. Half an hour and then he can head out to get her. The both of them can decide what to get for dinner, if they’re going to cook or if they’ll give in and order a veggie pizza. There’s nothing like just sitting with a couple boxes of pizza and piling plates with maybe a slice too many and dancing from the counter to the kitchen table to keep any slice from sliding off. 
He feels his head fall forward on his neck and he snaps up. It takes him a moment, realizing he’s slumped down in the living room. Glancing up at the clock, he’s half an hour late. “Shit,” he exclaims, bolting up from the seat, grabbing his keys and wallet. The door is a slamming thud behind him and his keys jingle as he works to get the right one in his fingers.  
Inside the car, he pulls up Ari’s number and sets the phone into the hook on the air vent so he can drive and have both hands free. It rings and rings. Just as the back tires hit asphalt, she picks up. “Fell asleep again didn’t you, Dad?”
“I keep telling you that seat has some sort of magic in it. I’m on my way.”
She laughs. In the background, Calum can hear Elizabeth’s mother, her voice soft and sweet. “He’s on his way. Thanks, Mrs. Banks,” Ariyana says. “Want me to call in the veggie pizza?”
“Please. I’m sorry, baby girl. Should’ve set an alarm on my phone.”
“It’s alright, Dad. I lost track of time too. I’ll call it in.”
“Love you. Thanks.”
“Of course. Love you too.” 
It still blows Calum’s mind that for the last fourteen years it’s been just Ariyana and him, and somehow he’s managed to do the whole Dad thing well. Ariyana isn’t his kid, an apparent fact when she stands next to him at the grocery stores when they go shopping together or when they go out to the movies, on the rare occasions that Ariyana doesn’t think Calum’s lame. Her much darker than his own, almost like her skin swallowed up the night sky. 
But he wouldn’t trade it in for the world. Even though it meant he lost one of his best friends along the way, complications post-birth seemed to just linger and linger on until they unfortunately claimed Ariyana’s mother, Jazmyne. But both her and Calum knew things were going south fast. They both knew that one day would be her last and when Jazymyne told Calum that no matter what happened to her, she wanted him to take care of her baby, he agreed without hesitation. Ari was close to a year old when her mother died, leaving Calum to the wilds of parenthood alone. 
He was there for everything before that. When Ariyana first kicked in the womb. When the doctors let visitors in, he was the first to hold her. He watched her crawl for the first time, attempting to keep up with Duke who was shockingly good with a baby. Maybe it was because they were kindred spirits. All he did was sleep and eat all day and Ariyana as a baby did the same. He has so many pictures of Ari and Duke at his place on the couch, fast asleep, when Jazmyne had doctor’s appointments or whenever she was just too physically tired to do much of anything. Calum always kept his doors opened. He loved, and still loves, Ariyana, so there was never a problem when he got to watch her for a couple hours. 
Ariyana had a game she liked to play, especially when she was being put down for a nap, where when she finally could support her upper half, she would hide her face in Calum’s chest and then push up. He would kiss her forehead or cheek and she’d giggle before hiding her face again. It would go for ten minutes, a cycle of their version of peekaboo and kisses until sleep finally overtook her right there on his chest and Calum would be left, hearing the echo of her sweet giggle, the way only a baby can laugh, with one hand on her back, keeping her secure to his body.
Calum feels the tears filling his lower lashes and tries not to think too much about how much Ariyana has grown up since then. How at almost 25, he became a dad to the sweetest kid in the world. And it might not have been under circumstances that he would’ve liked, or ones that he would’ve expected, but he couldn’t deny the blessing Ariyana was in his life. So how much complaining could Calum really do?
Turning the corner onto the block, Calum can see Ariyana and Elizabeth standing on the front porch, huddled together. And almost, as the sounds of his tires rolling over of the street, are fire, they jump apart. Elizabeth falls into the swing and starts rocking as if she were doing it the entire time. Calum knows. He suspected it long before when suddenly Ari talked about Elizabeth all the time. They stayed after school a lot, on homework as the excuse. But Calum never pushed it. 
Instead, Calum parks. He opens his door just as the front door opens and Elizabeth’s mom steps out waving. “Thank you again, Jodie,” Calum calls out as he stands behind the opened driver side door. 
“Anytime. You know Ariyana’s welcome over literally whenever. Maybe next week, girls, we can do that candle thing I was showing you guys.”
“Mom,” Elizabeth groans. 
“What? It looks fun,” Jodie defends. It’s easy to see the relation between the two of them. Elizabeth getting her mother’s dark and wild curls. “You guys said you wanted something to do the next time you hung out? I figured what’s to lose by learning how to make candles?”
“Yeah, but they’re in those elementary school milk cartons.”
Jodie shakes her head. Her gaze lands on Calum and they both share a knowing look before Jodie turns back to Elizabeth, hands up and palms out. “Well, think about it then. Maybe we can find some other craft. Doesn’t have to be candles.”
Both girls are glancing at each other, communicating something and Calum has a good idea what it is. But with a small wave and smile, Ariyana steps down from the porch and over to the passenger side of Calum’s SUV. They both climb inside, doors closing at the same time. “Pizza should be done by the time we get there,” Ari says, sliding the seatbelt across her. 
“Cool. Tomorrow, I’ll cook.”
“You mean, tomorrow you’ll attempt to cook but I’ll have a take out place on standby.”
“My cooking’s gotten better over the years.”
“I’ll give you that,” she laughs. Then falls silent, mostly car rides are full of her talking about her day, asking questions, making terrible puns about the street names. But now, she fiddles with her phone, staring out of the window as the world passes by them. And she questions for a brief moment if they are passing the world by. Because it feels like it, as she sits next to her dad. 
Ariyana knows about her mother dying, she knows about Calum adopting her because of her mother’s wishes. She’s grateful for it. She can’t imagine what her life would be like if it weren’t for Calum, if she wound up with someone else, if she wound up with her grandmother, who lived back in the South. Calum never kept her family out of her life, but it’s always a question that plagues her. What would her life be like if things had been different? What would she be like if her grandmother took her in? Would her grandmother dress her up every Sunday like she did to her mother? Would she be eating oatmeal in the mornings with bacon on the side and just on the other side of the kitchen table a Bible would sit? 
She’s not sure why her mother didn’t leave her to her grandmother. Though she’s asked Calum several times, he never really answers it. Her grandmother never treated her badly. When she spent the summers at her house, running through the neighborhood with the other kids, and they scrambled to be inside doors or on porch steps as the streetlights came on, her grandmother would always be waiting, hands on her hips, with a shake of her head. ‘Cutting it close, like you gunnin for trouble,’ her grandmother would always say. 
But on the table would be her plate for dinner. Her aunts and uncle would always hook her up with the latest sneakers. Ariyana learned how to walk not to put creases in her shoes. She spent many nights sitting in her mother’s childhood room, cleaning sneakers with toothbrushes. She stared up at peeling wallpaper, feeling the soft pressure of reassuring hands on her shoulders. No one else would be in the room with her. 
And Calum never sheltered her from any of that. He took really good care of her and she never felt like she couldn’t tell him anything. She never felt like there was a disconnect. Until now. Because in her soul, deep in her gut, she knows that she wouldn’t have to worry about this with her mother. Her mother would just get her. There was nothing else in the world besides a mother’s love. Or maybe Ariyana just yearned for her mother right now that it made it seem like that. Maybe all she wants right now is that soothing touch, like when Grandma’s worn leathery palms would cup her cheeks and every ache was soothed. Every worry was squashed in just one touch. 
“I’ll be right back. Don’t drive away now,” Calum teases, sliding out of the truck. 
Ariyana finally notices that they’re pulled up right in front of the doors of the pizza shop. She nods, glancing over to Calum. Does he know? Is he going to flip? She hopes he wouldn’t. Ariyana hopes that the track record of telling Calum major news proves accurate for future reactions. Like shockingly, he didn’t flip a lid when she was near failing trig. Mostly because she was too busy passing notes to Elizabeth. But she covered that up by saying the teacher just taught it in a confusing manner and Calum asked her if she wanted a tutor. That was all. He encouraged her that she could always try the subject again in the summer or maybe again once school started, but he didn’t give her a spill about how failing classes would never get her into college, or never help her make a living in the world. 
But almost failing trig and having to tell him this, the truth, admitting that even she’s not sure about the label--that could never compare. 
The car door opens and Calum slides the pizza onto the floor to keep it safe. Just as he gets into the driver seat, Ariyana speaks. “Can we go visit Mom? Like after dinner or whenever it really works?”
Calum nods. “We can go right now if you want. I have blankets in the back. Make it a picnic.”
“Those are the dogs blankets but sure, they’ll suffice.”
“Hey, now, the dogs don’t complain about those nice soft blankets.” He says it on the shot to make her laugh. He can tell something in weighing on her mind. That’s not his Ariyana but sometimes things are just hard to express verbally. He gets that. 
“They lack the ability too. So…” she laughs, watching as Calum makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes and sighing. 
The smell of cheese and marinara sauce fills the car. There’s not even the radio playing. Calum lets her have control most of the time. According to her, all he ever plays are the throwback jams. Though occasionally in her shuffle she slips in one of the songs he’s mentioned or played before. She only puts the ‘good ones’ on though, her exact phrasing when Calum brought it up once. 
Upon arriving at the cemetery, Calum pauses, watching Ariyana slip out of the car. She skirts around to the trunk, pulling out the blankets. “Trunk water?” she asks, referring the case of water Calum keeps in the trunk. Mostly for emergencies and because he’s had a case always on hand. 
“I got it,” Calum returns as he grabs the pizza. He wants to ask if everything is okay. If there’s anything he needs to do, or anything she wants him to do, but he’s not sure if the question warrants verbalization. Something is not okay. Something is going on. Though he doesn’t want to push her at the same time. 
Walking over the grass, Calum doesn’t even take note of the headstones that lead their way. Most of the time he does. Most of the time he hates coming here. He never really thought he would’ve griefed a major loss in his twenties. He didn’t think life would be that cruel to him. Yet it had. Yet, he buried her six feet deep, let the oak be a barrier between her flesh and whatever creatures lived in the dirt. But this whole row, the plot they had to pick out together while Ariyana was still much too young, still a babbling baby on one of their hips. Calum can’t remember anymore the specifics. 
This whole trek though shows him he’s not alone. Many others have had those same feelings. Many others have cried a flood of tears before him and he can only hope those that cry for him don’t feel too burdened. He hopes that they know his life began and had to end too. It’s at the plot as Ariyana starts to unfold the blanket that Calum wonders if she wants to go to stay with her grandmother. Before she spent a lot of summers there because Calum had to go for a tour, but even during her Christmas breaks, she asked to go more often. Because he has to leave during the school year too sometimes, Ariyana stays with Luke’s wife and their kids. It works out, never find the fact that they have to make it work. 
“Do you want to live with your grandmother, Ari?”
Ariyana looks over to Calum, her brows pulled in together in confusion. “Did you nap so hard, Dad, that you lost your marbles? I love Grandma Gigi. But no, I don’t want to live with her.”
“I just--you’ve been quiet. Like something’s wrong. And I didn’t--I didn’t want you thinking that you couldn’t talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on. I know it’s not easy when I have to travel so many months at a time. But like, if you wanted something more stable, I don’t fault you. I wouldn’t be mad.”
Their blankets are straightened out and Ariyana places her arms under the boxes. “It’s crazy, yeah. But let’s be real. I have like four rooms at this point, one at every uncle’s house. Birthdays are like, insane when we all get together to have a party. And I like it, just us. Besides you don’t flip like Grandma Gigi about curfew. Though her cooking is better.” She sees Calum’s faux offense and quickly adds on, “But I do love you. You taught me how to ride a bike. You’re there to help me study when I can’t decode Shakespeare. You paid for me to learn how to fail at tap dancing.”
“You were getting better, sweetheart.”
“I was awful, Dad. And you taught me how to play football and helped me make junior varsity. There’s no one else that could’ve done all that.”
“You were an easy baby. A difficult teen. But an easy baby.”
“I won’t take offense at you calling me difficult. For now. It might come back up in other later arguments.”
Calum laughs, nodding his head towards the ground. “Believe me, I expect it.”
They finally sit, the pizza still warm as they take their first bites. Ariyana really asked to come out here because maybe she could tell Calum without actually having to say it. Maybe her mother would give her strength even beyond the grave. It would be like, coming out to both the people she cared about the most, at the same time. She wouldn’t have to do this over, and over, and over. Except her uncles of course. 
Grandma Gigi is going to be a whole other battle. That will have to be a battle she’ll have to fight when it comes up. Right now, she has to tell Calum. With nothing but crust in her fingers, she looks over to Calum. “Dad,” she starts. She’s never called him anything other than that, though she knows he’s not her biological father. She’s never known him as anything other than that. She’s never known him as anyone that would freak, or stop loving her, or shun her for anything. 
“What’s up, baby girl?” If Ariyana doesn’t want to move in with her grandmother, Calum’s at a loss. He just wants her to be happy. And healthy, of course, too. But seeing her torn up like this makes his gut constrict. He’s only been able to stomach one slice thus far. 
“Have you ever known you were different? Not like you suspected or you were guessing. But you just knew.”
It clicks. Like the switch of a light being turned on, Calum gets it. He exhales, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Well,” he starts, holding the slice on his fingers as he chews over the right words. He stares down at Jazmyne’s headstone. What do I tell her? You’d be so much better at this. He doesn’t want to start out with the ‘whole everyone’s different’ thing. It feels contrived, like he’s trying to weigh his own struggles against hers. All he wants to do, at a moment like this, is let her know he’s listening. He’s picking up the clues. “There’s nothing wrong with different, ya know? Different is good.”
“You don’t think different is like, wrong? Like, there’s a ‘normal’ that everyone’s used too. And different is scary. But is it wrong, ya know?”
There’s no use in trying to beat around the bush anymore. Calum swallows down his bite of pizza resting it on the cardboard box on the side where none of the other slices rest. He looks over at her, as she picks at the dog fur coating her black jeans. “Who you love or find attractive isn’t wrong. It may be different from what others expect of you or what others deem is right. I don’t care who you love. I love different. I accept different. I respect different and that means I love you; I accept you. And it also means I respect you too.”
Almost like a popped balloon Ariyana sighs. All the tension from her shoulders drop. “Was it that obvious?”
“I know when someone’s smitten when I see it.”
There’s a moment, where they both sit, watching the setting sun. Ari’s glad that it went well. That she doesn’t have to hide or fear anything. “You didn’t even let me say it, though,” she points out. “Like, I had this whole speech prepared and everything!”
Calum laughs. “Okay, let’s redo.”
“No, it’s too late now,” she huffs, holding her arms across her chest. Her laughter is bubbling in her chest and escapes her in tufts. “But, in all honesty, thanks. For understanding. I was kinda scared.”
Calum nods. “I understand. But I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me things. I’m always in your corner, Ariyana. Always and forever.”
“Thanks.”
“Of course.”
With empty boxes collected and the blankets folded back up, Ariyana looks down at her mother’s gravestone. “I hope you understand, Mom. Love you.” The car ride is DJ’ed, like usual, Ariyana’s playlist and things are easy again. 
It’s about a week later as Ariyana gathers her books from the dining room table for school, when she notices a tiny pride flag pinned to the front pouch of her backpack. She didn’t buy that. Not even in her venture to the mall with Elizabeth last Saturday and they stopped at a small kiosk that was selling a bunch of pins. Elizabeth bought one, if she remembered correctly. But not her. 
“Ready to go, Ari?”
“Dad, did I buy that pin?” she asks, pointing to her brown canvas bag. 
“If it’s too much, you don’t have to leave it there. But I know you’re into pins now.” That explains it. He bought and pinned it there. And if she knows anything, inside will be a bottle of orange juice and some candy, in case she needs the sugar boost during the day. She hates that he does it, but as of late, she’s needed then more and more. 
“When’s my doctor’s appointment again?”
“Tomorrow, Tuesday. 1:30. I’ll be there to get you before your lunch time.”
“I’m going to miss trig.”
“You mean you’re going to miss Elizabeth,” Calum corrects, shouldering the loaded up backpack. 
“No, I’m failing trig, not failing in my relationship.”
“Smart ass,” he laughs as they shuffle out of the door. “C’mon. You’ve got a test first period and you’re not being late as an excuse.”
“Oh, c’mon, Dad. It’s World History. I can ace it in my sleep.” 
It’s true, but still, he’s not going to risk it. Ariyana plays with her phone, mostly texting but Calum’s not shocked. When his stops in the parking lot, the buses are already lined up and unloading. Ariyana grabs her bag, but not before leaning across the console and kissing Calum on his cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Kick ass on that test. Don’t be afraid to go to the nurse’s office or call me if you feel another dizzy spell, okay?”
“I won’t.”
“Tell Elizabeth I said hi, alright?” 
Ariyana can’t stop the smile as she shuts the door. The window already rolled down. “You love having that power, don’t you?”
Calum laughs, leaning forward into the steering wheel but not pressing down on the horn. “C’mon your pops has to have a little fun, ya know.” 
She rolls her eyes, wishing she could seriously be upset. But instead, all there is is elation. She calls out another ‘love you’ and then starts towards the front doors. Right on the curb is Elizabeth, waiting for her. Their embrace is quick and they shuffle inside, hand in hand. There’s a moment, where there’s a small pause, Ari showing off the pin and Calum can only grin watching them. “You’re probably already seeing this Jaz. But God, she’s growing up fast. Her first girlfriend. Like, fuck, I’m getting old. So old, but I hope you’re proud. I hope she’s everything you wanted in a daughter. I hope I’m doing you proud.”
Calum knows he’s been watching too long when the buses start to leave. But part of him is worried. Afraid that he’ll pull out of the parking lot and she’ll wind up in the nurse's office waiting for him to rush to get her. He’s worried that he’s going to pull off and when he comes back she’s going to graduate. It might be her second year in high school but it already feels like with every blink she keeps growing up. He can’t stop her. He can’t keep her as that babbling baby on his chest who’d laugh at the raspberries on her cheeks. 
It’s on the drive back home, when there’s no music, no laughing from his right. When it’s just him and the road and the breeze floating in that he feels something on his cheek. It’s warm for a quick moment, even tinkles, and then gone. It’s not a bug, not some stray piece of hair. It encompassed his whole cheek and he thinks it was Jazmyne, cupping his cheek, like she always did before she’d pinched his cheeks. It never failed to annoy him. 
A tear slips from his eye. At the last red light before turning into his neighborhood, he doesn’t stop the ones that overflow the waterlines of his eyes. “I know you’re there.”
Tagging: @5-secondsofcolor @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles
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