#if you look really closely at two of my completed fics I'll bet you can find them
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The Joker and the Assassin ― Illumi Zoldyck & Hisoka Morow. Pt. 2
You can read part one here: https://www.tumblr.com/lovelybunnyxx/743538953448308736/the-joker-and-the-assassin-illumi-zoldyck?source=share
A/N: I'm glad to be back! This part is experimental. It's focused on building relationships with characters aside from Illumi/Hisoka. Please let me know if you would prefer for this idea to be written like a longfic(explores more fleshed out relationship dynamics, plot focused, slower paced) or if you would like me to just focus on the shipping(less focused on plot, faster-paced, focuses on the relationship).
If you would prefer it to be written as a long-fic, I may flesh out the idea and post it on AO3, and just focus on posting shorter stuff here.
TW: None
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“The first phase is quite simple. All you have to do is follow me to the second phase. So, try to keep up.”
As you follow the purple-haired examiner through the Milsy Wetlands, you quickly conclude that you never want to run again.
You are almost convinced that the man has endless stamina. It seems like every time you think that he is about to slow down to catch his breath, he only increases his pace further. "Please make sure to follow close behind me," the examiner reminds everyone, making you want to groan.
You cannot believe that it is only the first stage of the exam, and you are already tired.
"Excuse me, do you mind if we run with you?" a cheerful voice drags you out of your thoughts. You glance beside you, blinking in surprise when you see a young black-haired boy and a silver-haired boy riding a skateboard beside him.
"Oh..um, sure," you agree, nodding and giving them a friendly smile.
"Great! I'm Gon, and this is Killua," the black-haired boy introduces, pointing his thumb at the boy next to him.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm y/n," you introduce yourself, looking at Killua's skateboard. "That's a cool skateboard. I bet you're glad you brought it along. It's pretty useful right now."
"Mhm? Oh, thanks. I don't really need it, though," Killua shrugs, hopping off it. "I'm bored, so I guess I'll run for a while."
"...Bored?" you ask, blinking in surprise. Most people are exhausted, but the boys look like they have hardly broken a sweat. "..How old are the two of you?" you ask curiously.
"Twelve," they both answer at the same time. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. What kind of parents let their twelve-year-olds take the Hunter's Exam?! You are about to respond to their words, but pause when you feel like something is watching you. You immediately look behind you, but you don't see anything strange.
"...Huh," you mumble to yourself.
-----
You make it through the first and second stages of the Hunter's Exam with relative ease: it feels almost too easy. Sure, you had to run a lot during the first stage, but you stayed close to the front the entire time. After you complete the second stage, you feel a lot more confident in your abilities and begin to wonder if you overestimated how difficult the exam would be.
And that is when fate decides to laugh in your face. When you fall through a trapdoor at the beginning of the third stage of the Hunter's Exam, you find yourself landing in the same room as the red-haired man from before.
"Ah, hello there~ I suppose you are my partner for this stage," the man muses, grinning at you. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name..is Hisoka, and it is very nice to meet you.
#hxh x reader#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere x reader#hisoka morow x reader#illumi x reader x hisoka#illumi zoldyck x reader#hunter x hunter#yandere hisoka#yandere illumi
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For the Festive Fic prompts, I'd love to see what you do with 14 or 17!
14. family invites a rival/enemy/the boss to a Christmas party/vacation
"What is she doing here?" Jaime hisses to Tyrion as they stand in the receiving line at their father's annual Christmas party. It's always an overblown affair: everyone dressed up like they're about to meet the Queen, the abuse of gold-plated decorations, the persistent jazzy Christmas music soundtrack, and dear god the garlands. It's like a forest exploded all through the house.
Normally, Jaime finds the whole thing tedious and boring and he and Tyrion skip out halfway through to go get drunk on Tywin's most expensive liquor that gets trickier to find every year. The old man hasn't outwitted them on hiding places yet, but it was a near thing last year.
Jaime expects this year to be different, though, because there, large as life, is Brienne Tarth hovering at the end of the receiving line, her hulking shoulders hunched, the austere black of whatever dress she's wearing doing her no favors. She looks like she's at a funeral, not a Christmas party.
Which would suit the dour, frustratingly stubborn woman that is his primary rival in the world of high-end real estate.
"I can't see who you mean but based on the venom in your tone, I suspect you mean Ms. Tarth," Tyrion drawls. "She's here because Father invited her."
"What?" Jaime turns on his brother, completely ignoring the councilmember just holding his hand out to be shaken. "Why?"
Tyrion takes the councilman's empty hand and pumps it aggressively, wishing him a Merry Christmas before turning back to Jaime. "Because he wants to hire her," he says like Jaime's being especially obtuse.
Jaime stares at the woman creeping closer in the line. "But she works for the Starks. She hates us."
"She hates you," Tyrion says cheerfully, taking over for Jaime as he ignores two more people in line to glare at Brienne. "The rest of us she's neutral about."
Jaime scoffs. "That's only because she hasn't met you yet."
Tyrion kisses the hand of a woman and Jaime watches her laugh prettily. His brother lifts his brow smugly. "I'm very charming, Jaime. I'll bet you a case of that scotch we had last year that I can get her to be my friend before you."
The music dips for a moment and Jaime hears Brienne saying, "Merry Christmas" to one of the many Lannister Realty employees down the line from him. Her voice is soft and almost sweet--nothing like she sounds whenever he has the misfortune of talking with her.
"I'm not taking that bet. She'd befriend you just to spite me," he grouses. He shakes a few more hands without really seeing any of the people in front of him, too busy keeping an eye on Brienne's progress as she makes her way.
He can tell the moment she notices him in line, because all of the ease and shyness drains out of her and she straightens, lifting her head like a bear that's just spotted a threat.
Good, he thinks, meeting her gaze with a cool smile. Best she know what's waiting for her if she's considering this.
Jaime's flooded with anxious energy waiting for the line to hurry and deposit her before him and then it finally does. Up close, the black dress turns out to be shorter than he'd thought, and her very long legs stick out of it thick trunks. Her arms and shoulders--her best features, in his opinion--are covered, but an alarmingly broad swatch of her pale, freckled chest is bare except for a jeweled, golden sword hanging from a delicate necklace chain. It looks incongruous, the fragility of the links against the ropey tendons of her neck, like a trail of kisses against her skin.
Jaime blinks and jerks back. "Tarth," he greets her, folding his hands behind his back. "Did you get lost on the way to the Stark holiday party? Or are you hoping to actually enjoy expensive food at a work function for once?"
She grimaces, a familiar look on her wide face. "Lannister." She shoves her hand out at him as though a parent is standing behind her and forcing her to do so. He looks down at it, the wide span of her palm, the mountainous knuckles, and marvels again this woman is as successful a realtor as he is when he looks like he does and she looks like this.
Her hand hangs between them for a long moment before he finally takes it, feels the sting as she squeezes more than is polite. He hides a grunt and squeezes back, enjoys the way her eyes narrow and she puts even more strength into it, a vise slowly crushing the bones of his hand. He returns it, the two of them locked in an escalating battle of pain until Tyrion clears his throat.
"If you two are done trying to rip each others hands off, you're holding up the line." He sounds richly amused and Jaime realizes that the line has bunched up behind Brienne and there's a large space between her and the people ahead of her now.
She yanks her hand away and Jaime is oddly delighted by the stripes of red that flood over her cheeks like fingerpaint. He's less delighted by the way his hand is throbbing. He sees her flex her hand at her side and hopes he gave as good as he got, because he's convinced he'll have bruises in the morning.
"Enjoy the party, Tarth," Jaime tells her as she hurriedly shakes Tyrion's hand and mumbles Christmas wishes. "I don't expect you'll be invited back next year."
Her eyes skate back to him, blue and cold as the ice in the middle of a glacier. "That's because I'll be in the receiving line ahead of you."
Tyrion hoots with laughter because the best realtor gets the dubious honor of being here at the end of the line nearest Tywin and the leadership team.
Brienne's already hurried too far to make a comeback worth it, or even audible, and Jaime swears he won't have a single drink tonight until he's driven Brienne Tarth from the grounds, or at least from his father's perspective employment.
(Festive prompts here)
#jaime x brienne#my fic#festive prompts#asks answered#pearly--rose#this could have gone another 10k easily lol#have to stop somewhere#(spoiler alert: they end up fighting for best realtor and then fall in love and they stand there together next year bc they're engaged)#(the end)
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Could I request a fic with m reader and Eddie being frenemies... like they constantly low key bully each other but it's because they're comfortable enough with eachother to know not to take it to heart... like they tease each other and are being competitive with EVERYTHING all the time... just being menaces lol (tysm!!)
I think I can cook this up for you! It's a tad short, but I didn't want to over do it.
Requests will be closing Monday, November 28th at 11:00 PM EST. You can submit yours here!
Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).
The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”
Feel free to look through my masterlist here!
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If someone were to ask you when this started, you're not sure you could give them a date. You're not sure you could even give them a guess as to when it become second nature to antagonize each other. Sure to the outside, you were sure that it looked strange. If they didn't know like you did, you'd think it was a deep seated hatred too. But in reality this is just how you and Eddie are. If you pushed, he pulled. It's just how it works.
Like currently, you thump Eddie on the back of the head, crouching down over his shoulder. "You think you can just conveniently drive past me on the walk up here in a puddle and get away with it? I think not."
Eddie laughs, under his breath mostly and all through his nostrils. "You were well prepared in your boots," he tease, pointing down to the item.
The puddle was swallow and Eddie did slow down a lot as to not completely soak you, but your sock around your ankles are still wet from the morning.
"Fuck off," you huff, shoving his shoulder.
"I promise I can make it up to you," he states, a smile grazing his lips as he looks up to you. You move down two seats to his left.
"Please spare me the details," you huff, digging into the pile of peas on your tray. "Because you make a joke about a blowjob or getting you an A on a project, I think I'll cut my own ears off."
"Oh, c'mon, I think I'm pretty funny."
"You'd be the only one." The retort is all to easy and the table erupts into poorly withheld giggles. Eddie flips you the bird before the group resumes the conversation they were having before you approached.
And this--the bickering--is just the way it goes. So you're not shocked that later in the evening while you're sitting outside of Eddie's trailer, both of you with cigarettes between your lips, you huff at Eddie's confession.
"Just ask the person out. Don't be such a pussy," you retort.
"Easy for you to say."
"That is an age old excuse and honestly, I expect something more clever out of the likes of you, Munson." Your words are coated in the smoke you exhale, fingers holding the cigarette down at your side. "How about this--tomorrow during P.E if you score more baskets than me, you don't ask your crush out. But if I score more baskets than you, you have to ask them out in front of me."
It's a stupid bet--Eddie knows it as he stares down at your waiting hand. Eddie is not athletic not in the means that he could even fathom outscoring you in a game of basketball. Hell, Eddie did his best to literally never have to play the game during P.E at all. Lots of excuses about rolled ankles, literally ditching when at all possible, attempting to be the worst so that no one picks him.
But here you are, chest puffed out with a sly grin as you hold out your hand. Eddie knows that even you know it's a losing bet. That if Eddie really is chicken shit, he should just avoid it all right now. But he slips his palm into yours, the shake is firm and curt, sealing the coffin Eddie had stepped in just by mentioning the crush for good.
The floor comes up fast for Eddie, but he refuses to let himself be bested so he springs up fast, hearing the whistle of the teacher shrilling against the stale gym air. "Watch it," comes the shout followed by your last name.
You grin, watching Eddie come back to guard you. "Forgot what game I was playing for a second. Forgive me," you tease.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just put it back into play."
Eddie's a little shocked when he manages to swat the ball you had intended to pass to a teammate from its intended path. But he doesn't let the let the shock keep him from taking a shot. It hits the backboard, rims the basket and then falls through the net. Five. He's proud.
"Only need 7 more to catch up," you tease, walking behind him.
Not the reminder he needed and when he spins, he's met with your shirtless sweaty chest. "Oh, sweetheart, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me."
You only shrug, face falling a bit neutral, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. "Who's to say I'm not already?"
After the retort you carry on up court, back towards the action of the game and Eddie wonders just how much he really cares about catching up.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munso fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x male reader#h writes#stranger things
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Loki Episode 4 Incoherent Thoughts
I know we have two more episodes. I know it's (probably) gonna be fine. But goddamn, guys.
I hope this episode doesn't completely disprove the end of my fic so soon.
Also the word Heart in the title is turning me into more of an absolute Fool
This intro is making me very upset
HOW DID THIS RECORDING GET BACK TO THE TVA IN THE WAR ROOM
OH SHIT
OH FUCKING SHIT
NO YOU'RE NOT, YOU DOUCHE
Welp, already. Before the title card. Damn.
Why does the door stay open at the end of the last episode for Loki and Mobius, but close immediately in this one though?
Sylvie!
Wait no Heart is in the title.
I SWEAR TO GOD IF RENSLAYER AND MINUTES END UP TOGETHER AND THE ONLY GAY REP WE GET IS THE VILLAIN LADY AND THE ANIMATED CLOCK I'M GONNA LOSE IT
Loki being soft and gentle is KILLING ME
You didn't need to give me that long of a shot on that screen. I know the future's approaching.
B15 I WOULD DIE FOR YOU
Fucking hell I love this. I want the end of this so bad to be lokius and Sylvie as my trio but not a throuple.
Gaybies!
His number two fan!
LOOK AT CASEY BACK THERE SMILING LIKE A PROUD BOYFRIEND I'M SORRY I SHIP THESE TWO SO BAD
ANOTHER REASON WHY HIS NAME IS OUROBOROS I'M DYING
OH MY GOD HE SAID THE THING OB YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THE THING I'M SCREAMING
OH MY GOD THIS IS KILLING ME
SYLVIE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE HERE
OB YOU MADE MINI-FIGURES?!
STOP I HAVE TOO MANY THINGS TO WRITE I CANNOT WRITE A FIC WHERE OB DMS THEIR DND CAMPAIGN
OB'S NOT SO SUBTLE LOOK AT SYLVIE WHEN HE SAYS "When someone killed He Who Remains" AND HER RESPONDING LOOK OF PRIDE LIKE 'Thank you, and I'd do it again' AND LOKI LIKE 'Not in front of the variant, please' IS FUCKING SENDING ME
"And ruined my life" OB YOU'RE MY FAVORITE OFFICIALLY
THE BICKERING IS BACK BABYYY ALSO IT'S ABSOLUTELY YOUR TURN LOKI HE'S RIGHT
CASEY AND OB JUST IDLY WATCHING THE BANTER I CANNOT WITH THIS EPISODE OH MY GOD
SYLVIE JUMPING INTO THE BICKERING OH NO OH NO (this is an oh no for me, maybe I'll explain what oh no means in reaction posts later, if anything comes of this one. God I hope not)
Loki is a very fast runner
VICTOR
But also please do not come in the way of Casey and OB
Ohhh fuck
I thought she was gonna restore his memories without permission, I really did
[I just paused typing the reactions because I thought of a theory OH MY GOD]
LOKI DON'T GO AFTER HER YOU KEEP CHOOSING MO STOP
OH FUCKING BRAD AGAIN
WHY ARE THEY ALL IN THERE THAT'S A TERRIBLE IDEA
THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A PRISON RIOT
B15 NO YOU CAN'T TRUST THEM
They're for sure gonna go for it AND THEN TURN ON YOU WHEN IT'S TIME
NO THAT'S THEIR PLACE
Lord please don't kiss
Loki you're doing great sweetie please don't try to kiss her
LOKI STOP I'M GONNA WRITE A POEM IF YOU KEEP SPITTING WISDOM
SYLVIE YOU'VE SEEN WIZARD OF OZ??!!
Don't you DARE FUCKING kiss her
Oh thank god
FUCK YOU RENSLAYER
FUCK OFF BITCH
BRAD THAT'S A BOLD FACE LIE
MINUTES GO FUCK YOURSELF (Timely's not gonna do it, after all)
EEEWWW
MINUTES YOU FUCKING BITCH YOU'RE SMILING THAT'S DISGUSTING
BRAD YOU BETTER TURN ON A BITCH
THE TEMPAD ISN'T WORKING??!!
This is weird
WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS WEIRD SHIT
BRAD YOU MOTHER FUCKER DON'T! FUCK
MOBIUS WHAT DID YOU PLAY? I BET IT WAS CANDY CRUSH AND AMONG US
FUCKING HELL I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH FUCK THIS
TIMELY OH MY GOD
OH MY GOD SYLVIE
FUCK MY BRAIN IS MOVING FAST AND GOD I HATE IT I KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN I PAUSED IT
SO IT MIGHT NOT HAPPEN TILL NEXT WEEK BUT: So they're separated, Sylvie gets up, pries open the elevator doors in time to see past Loki get pruned but thinks it's current Loki. And she's very upset about it. Then current Loki shows up and they reunite and she kisses him for real this time. GOD PLEASE NO I'M GONNA BE NERVOUS FOR THE NEXT SEVENTEEN MINUTES MINUS WHENEVER THAT HAPPENS.
ON THE OTHER HAND IF YOU JUST HUG HIM I CAN HANDLE THAT
THERE'S PAST LOKI SHIT HERE WE GO
ELEVATOR BROKEN. I MIGHT START CRYING PREMATURELY
IF I GET THIS RIGHT I'M GONNA BE SHOCKED I NEVER PREDICT THINGS RIGHT EVEN IF THEY'VE BEEN HEAVILY FORESHADOWED.
I DON'T WANT THIS TO BE THE MOMENT I CHECK OFF THAT BINGO SQUARE PLEASE NO
SYLVIE GOOD GIRL OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO SMART THIS IS WHY YOU ARE THE SUPERIOR VARIANT
WAIT WE STILL DON'T KNOW WHO'S ON THE PHONE THOUGH
WAIT PAUSED AGAIN. WAS I ORIGINALLY RIGHT, DOES FUTURE LOKI PRUNE PAST LOKI? OKAY EVERYTHING ABOUT MY PREDICTION IS THE SAME EXCEPT SHE'S ONLY UPSET UNTIL PAST BOI DISAPPEARS BECAUSE CURRENT BOI IS RIGHT THERE. OKAY PRESSING PLAY AGAIN
RIPPING OPEN THE DOOR, CURRENT LOKI WITH PRUNE STICK Y'ALL AS SOON AS I FIGURED OUT HE ACTUALLY GOT PRUNED FROM BEHIND I SAID IT WAS LOKI
DO IT LOKI MOBIUS NEEDS YOU
OH RIGHT YOU NEED TO SEE SYLVIE RIGHT. I forgot you understood this shit better than I do.
There's a guy in another apartment yelling ARGH, and that's a BIG MOOD right now dude lol.
"I promise you this will make sense." You're killing me Loki PLEASE DON'T KISS HER
ANSWER THE PHONE
STOP YELLING RANDOM DUDE IN MY BUILDING, EVERYTHING'S OKAY (FOR NOW)
FUCK YES DO IT, OB
ALSO THANK GOD NO KISS YET
This man is still yelling and it's been like 3-5 minutes.
I AGREE WITH LOKI AND SYLVIE LOL
YEAH DIE BITCH
OH SHIT I WAS GONNA FUCKING SAY NOT AGAIN BUT SHE SAID HER PIECE HOLY SHIT
GET HIM
YES
YES FUCKING DIE
Thanks V
TELL HIM LOKI
NO TIMELY I WANT LOKI TO TELL MOBIUS AND I DON'T TRUST YOU THAT MUCH
AND LOKI'S FOR SURE A FASTER RUNNER
I DON'T LIKE THAT WE THINK WE'RE GONNA FIGURE OUT-- FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
OH NO
NOOOOOOOOO IT'S THE SHOT NOOOOOOOO
WAIT WAIT DID HE TIME SLIP OR TURN INTO BLACK HOLE SPAGHETTI [Pretty sure it's the second one]
wait. Why are there pictures of the episode including the last scene in the files at the TVA? (I know it's the credits but I'm choosing to accept it as canon)
It all comes down to Brad I guess??
I. Need to go like. Stare at a wall for a little bit or something.
#loki#loki tv show#loki season 2#sylvie laufeydottir#mobius m mobius#loki season 2 spoilers#loki 2x04#that was certainly an episode
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Gambling has it's perks
Summary: Cuphead and Mugman are about to lose it all at the casino, but Cuphead has a little trick up his sleeve. Can they beat King Dice at his own game? Read and see ;)
A/N: This is a sfw Cuphead tickle fic, if you do not like it, please dni. Enjoy! <3
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You'd think that most people would quit once they'd almost lost everything in a gamble. But the cup brothers were certainly not most people, even after losing to the devil himself.
Now, gambling with the devil's right hand man wasn't any less dangerous, but at least there was the possibility he'd give you a second chance. Well, only if you weren't cuphead or mugman. Speaking of them, right now they are pretty much betting their lives away for money, one wrong move and they could say bye-bye to their souls.
"Wait! Uh..King Dice sir, could me and my brother talk alone for a moment?" Mugman interrupted politely, not wanting to make the wrong choice. "Hmmm, I'll give you two minutes, but no cheating boys!" King Dice replied with a shit-eating grin. Mugman wasted no time in grabbing Cuphead's arm and running to a different room where Dice couldn't hear. "Mugsy! Whaddya doin', I was about to play our last turn!" Cuphead's whisper-shouted, angry but curious on what his brother had to say. "L-look Cuphead, I'm not so sure we should do this without a plan. I mean what if we get it wrong?!" Mugman couldn't help but stress out about their current situation. Cuphead still wanted to wing it, but he had to agree that blind luck had seldom worked for them in the past.
But just when Mugman was about to accept his fate, Cuphead had a little lightbulb moment. "Hey Mugsy! I got the perfect plan, listen to this" He announced, trying to keep his voice down nevertheless. The mug was intruiged and leant his 'ear' close to hear his brothers so-called plan. Inaudible mutters and mumbles were heard until they had it all figured out completely. Just in time too, as it had gone 2 minutes, "Boys! Time's up~" Dice called out. The brothers nodded firmly at eachother, walking back to the other room to greet their opponent. "Okay Dice, I'll play my turn now." Cuphead stated hastily, picking up the small 6-sided dice on the table. He was about to roll when....he stopped, "I-..I don't know if I can do this, I mean losing would just be- GET 'IM MUGSY!" All of a sudden, Mugman jumped up onto the table and swiftly pounced on King Dice, trapping his hands behind him. This earned a yell from the taller man, focusing so much on Mugman that he didn't notice Cuphead approaching. "Not so tough now, huh Dice?" Said man whipped his head around to the voice, instinctively bringing his knees to his chest out of fear. "Geez, King Dice sir, the Devil must treat you really badly if you're scared of us" Mugman pitifully remarked. Dice just sat silently staring at the floor, still partly afraid of what was to happen to him now. "Relax, Dice! Me and my brudda ain't gonna hurt ya!" Cuphead assured him, leaving Dice as confused as ever.
"*Sigh* Dare I ask what you're going to do, little nuisances." He wearily said. The brothers shared a 'should we tell him?' look before concluding that it wouldn't really change anything. "Well, hurtin' ya is against the rules, so we're gonna tickle ya to pieces instead!" Cuphead answered. Dice widened his eyes upon this and quickly grew nervous, knowing fully well how relentless children could be. 'What do I do?! How do I get out of this?!' King Dice's thoughts disappeared entirely as he felt a gloved finger gliding down his stomach. A twitchy smile was created on his face, gritting his teeth as Cuphead lightly scratched his ribs.
"C'mon Dice, where's that laugh~?" The cup teased, his brother still restraining their targets arms. What all three of them didn't expect, was for another voice to be coming their way.
"Heya, boys! I just thought I'd drop on by to make sure you two ding-dongs aren't dead yet!" It was the one and only Ms. Chalice. King Dice's jaw dropped to the ground upon her appearance, while the two 'ding-dongs' shared an overjoyed smile. "Chalice!" They shouted in sync, said girl making her way over to them.
"Wow, looks like you boys have this guy in a real bind, mind if I help out?" She offered, smirking fondly at Dice, who seemed to have stopped functioning. "I- wh- h-how-"
"Trust me fella, it's too long a story. Now, what exactly is goin' on here?"
"We don't wanna lose our souls so we're ticklin' Dicey here till he gives up!" Cuphead blurted out, making Dice groan and blush a bit. Chalice chuckled and knealt down beside Mugman, whispering something inaudible into his straw. The mug's face lit up, suddenly hoisting King Dice's hands above his head. Dice struggled against Mugman's surprisingly strong grip, but gave up easily as it was no use. "Alright, scoot over Cuphead, I wanna get in on this too!" Chalice said. The cup obliged, leaving Dice twice as scared as he noticed how thin and tickly her fingers looked.
"Hmmm, how 'bout you go for his underarms and I stick to his belly?" Cuphead suggested.
"Got it, Mugman are you gonna gonna be fine holdin' him?"
"Yep! I'm feeling particularly strong today!" Mugman replied, even though there was practically no struggle against his grasp. On the count of three, Cuphead and Chalice started poking and prodding every inch of stomach and armpit they could find. Giggles and snickers found their way out of Dice's mouth, his feet kicking a little.
"Hehehahaha, yohohuhuhu brahahats are sohoho dehehahad whehehen thihihis ehehehends!" He 'threatened', it lacked intimidation though considering he was being tickled silly. Dice squeaked when a certain cup lightly pinched his side, his face growing crimson red again. "Awww, your squeaks are adorable~!" (⚠️Not a ship!⚠️)
"Shuhuhuhut ihihit cupfahahace, yohou pihihehece ohof shi-ACK!! WAHAHAHIHIHIT NOHOHOHO, STOHOHOHOP!!!" Dice suddenly exclaimed as Chalice squeezed his hip repeatedly. "Better watch your mouth mister, or I'll make it ten times worse next time!" She said, giving one more squeeze that felt like a ticklish electric shock. Everything then went at a steady pace for a while until Mugman just had to think out loud.
"Hey guys, so people normally have ticklish necks, but since Mr Dice has no neck, wouldn't it be realistic if he was ticklish around the neck?" King Dice mentally gulped after he said that. After a recent 'makeup incident' with his playing cards colouring the pips on the underside of his head, both Dice and his cards learnt how ridiculously sensitive he was there. Both Cuphead and Chalice turned to look at where Dice's neck should be, wondering if what Mug said was true or not.
"Listen kids, I will let you go anywhere else you like. But please, do not touch that area." But his pleading only made them more interested. Mischief ignited their eyes, huge smirks forming on their lips. The last words he could choke out before they attacked were,
"Oh crap."
Soon thin fingers were dancing along the underside of his head, while some thicker fingers scratched and poked. Meanwhile Kind Dice was thrown into hysterics,
"WAHAHAHIHIHIT, WAHAHAHAHIHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEHAHASE STAHAHAHAHAP, IHIHIHIH CAHAHAN'T TAHAHAKE IHIHIT!!" He yelled, just hoping that at least one of them would stop. His wish technically came true as Chalice slowed down, slightly worried about going too far. She sighed and said, "alright, let's stop this now, Cuphead." Her friend obeyed, ceasing his hands.
Dice inhaled desperately and Mugman decided to let go of his arms, Dice immediately rubbed his tingling body.
"*huff* y'know, after all that *huff*, I don't give up and I wanna see who wins the bet. *huff*" He admitted, his smug attitude returning.
"Don't worry ding-dongs, I got this" Chalice reassured them. "Mugman, now!"
As fast as he could, Mugman pulled Dice's head really hard so that it popped right off his shoulders. King Dice obviously tried to grab it, but again to no avail as he couldn't entirely move without his head.
"Ugh, what now? Gonna roll me like a dice until I give up?- wait no don't actually do that, I'll be sick." Dice remarked, completely oblivious about the now exposed underside of his head. "Nope, it's just a little experiment to see if you'd change your mind!" Chalice explained. Without warning, she blew a big raspberry on the bottom of his head, and boy did he f*cking scream 💀.
"NONONONONO STAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA!!" Uncontrollable laughter poured out of him, luckily it was a rather short raspberry. "Give up yet, Mister Dice?" Chalice asked cockily, Mugman popped his head back onto his body in the meantime. King Dice collapsed into a giggly puddle, holding his poor head. It took about 5 minutes before he had finally regained his breath and stamina. It was only then he admitted defeat, he also realized that Chips was staring wide-eyed from the other side of the room. Dice turned so red you'd wonder if his head was white in the first place. "H-....how long have you been here?" Chips grinned and replied "Oh, y'know, I saw like all of it. I won't tell, I promise boss." He surrendered his hands to show he'd keep the promise. "Good, 'cause you're fired if you tell anyone about this." Dice threatened, he was lucky the Devil didn't see though, he'd be teased for it every.single.day.
Chips kept his promise, but he took advantage of this discovery every chance he got just to mess with the Devil's number one.
In reality, Dice didn't mind one bit if it meant he got some bonding time with his colleagues. The Devil did find out eventually though, and, well, let's just say Dice was too tired to get up the next morning ;). (Stop I'm reading this again a while later and this line sounds so stupidly dirty, I'm so sorry 😭)
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Okay, this took WAY longer than it needed to so I'm sorry for that but I hope you enjoyed this fic. Honestly though KD has gotta be one of the funniest villains ever 😂.
Have a lovely day/night <3
#cuphead#mugman#king dice#tickle fic#funny#cuphead game#cuphead tickles#lee!kingdice#ler!cuphead#ler!mugman#ler!chalice
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A fic where Kindle needs unexpected therapy and Percy just wants to vibe with his bird
you can also find this from ao3
this is random and I post it without context (context sold separately). but it's from my canon compliant bdsm verse set after the events of MTMTE that I'll probably end up writing more stuff for at some point, hopefully with some explanation on how the nerds even ended up here because it might seem weird when you just jump in from this point lmao. I just got possessed by a self-indulgent demon and wrote this out because reasons. enjoy.
All Kindle had needed was two minutes of Perceptor’s time to ask him about the maintenance on the laboratories’ security, and when he had seen that the scientist was still marked as present in the labs he had thought to simply drop by when he was already in that wing of the ship anyways. Of course he could have taken care of his business through comms but it was always nicer to deal with people in person than through calls, and that’s why he didn’t really think twice before some moments later he was letting himself in through the locked lab door unannounced. But he only managed one and half steps in before he registered the sight that had opened up before him, and the words that he had been preparing the whole way here died instantly in his suddenly fritzy vocalizer.
It wasn’t an unusual sight to spot Brainstorm wherever Perceptor happened to be, the two had been practically attached by the hip lately (and as such, a source of much gossip and betting at Swerve’s). But he would have expected to see two geniuses hard at work maybe, or in the middle of a heated debate about something that went way over Kindle’s head.
Whatever he might have expected definitely was not seeing Brainstorm on his knees, sitting pretty in front of Perceptor who was seated on a stool with his legs crossed, gazing calmly down at the jet with a hint of an amused smile curling on his lips like this was a completely normal sight for him.
And maybe Kindle could have thought of a good explanation for it still. Had Perceptor also not been baiting Brainstorm playfully with what looked like energon treats between his fingers, the jet looking completely transfixed by them as he tried to follow the hand with little slow bobs of his helm, his optics soft and hazy. He looked like some kind of a timid kitten.
Kindle’s awkward presence unfortunately did not go unnoticed, because Brainstorm’s focus was broken when he belatedly registered the sounds of the door opening and closing, starting to turn his helmet to see who it was. But Perceptor quickly stopped him with firm fingers on his chin, turning Brainstorm’s face back towards him before the jet could actually see Kindle, and spoke to him with a tone that was filled with such casual and demanding confidence that the pyrobot was hit by shivers as well.
“Optics on me,” Perceptor ordered, his expression now much more sober but still gentle, and to Kindle’s eternal surprise the famously stubborn and proud jet didn’t argue at all. Brainstorm actually looked almost pleased at being corrected and ordered around, a soft flush visible on his naked face plates as his whole attention was dedicated to Perceptor again like hypnotized. He looked odd. So calm and relaxed and attentive. A lot of adjectives that Kindle never would have thought to attach to Brainstorm’s name before. But the jet looked the very picture of serene and happy sitting there on the floor at another mech’s feet, even his wings having pressed back and slightly down to appear smaller. And Kindle felt like he had intruded on something so intimate that a simple apology couldn’t make up for it.
Perceptor waited for a beat to see that the other was actually listening to what he had been told, before he nodded with a “good” and offered Brainstorm one of the energon treats. Rewarding the jet like he was a pet in training. The little sprinkled cube was eaten eagerly but carefully from between Perceptor’s fingers, and after it disappeared into the jet’s mouth Perceptor was slowly unfolding his legs so he could then lean in closer to gently pet his cabled cheeks.
“That’s a good jet,” he cooed, and Kindle felt increasingly awkward in the room as he swore that he could hear Brainstorm’s engine softly purring all the way from here, seeing his optics closing as his face was petted and he leaned into the touch.
But Kindle was unable to just turn around and make a run for it, rooted in place from pure shock surely. But once Brainstorm was distracted by the petting, Perceptor’s sharp optics were discreetly turning to their guest now, and Kindle was hit with a comm request that gave him more anxiety than it surely should have when combined with the stern expression that now graced Perceptor’s face. And once the channel was established a moment later, Perceptor’s carefully controlled terse tone was a stark contrast to the warmth that he had been addressing Brainstorm with.
/’ Whatever it is, it can surely wait a bit. ‘/
Kindle jolted from surprise, barely able to look the other in the optic. But he was even more afraid to let his optics wander to the unnaturally compliant Brainstorm again. And he was kind of starting to dread the idea that he wouldn’t be able to even look at either of them anymore after this, and certainly not in the optic. It would have been way less awkward to walk in on them doing something traditionally lewd. Why couldn’t they have just been fucking over the table like normal people??
/’ Uh, yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to– Uh, interrupt... Whatever this is. ’/
Perceptor’s optics narrowed just slightly, but the warning tone was crystal clear. Watch your step because you’re treading on thin ice, and Kindle didn’t exactly feel brave enough to try an ex-Wrecker today. Not when he was clearly so protective of the jet at his feet and famous for his deadly aim.
/’ It’s none of my business, got it! ’/ the pyrobot added hastily and made awkward little flailing movements with his arms as he finally avoided his optics away from the whole scene before him. Oh Primus, it would be burned into his memory anyways wouldn't it.
Perceptor turned his attention back to Brainstorm, gently petting his face with the backs of his knuckles now, tracing the bottom edges of his closed optics and the cabling on his cheeks, making soft little sounds to keep the other in his happy little bubble. The movements and sounds were way too soft compared to his tone as he spoke over the comm line again as if he wasn’t gently petting his co-worker in broad daylight right there at the same time.
/’ Don’t make any sudden movements or sounds. ‘/ Perceptor almost scolded him for the fidgeting, making Kindle immediately stop shuffling around awkwardly. And when Perceptor spoke again he didn’t look up from Brainstorm’s face, as if pretending that their intruder and the headaches he brought simply didn’t exist. /’ You will turn around and leave quietly before you actually manage to cause a mess. Then, you will leave me a message this time, detailing whatever it was that you wanted to ask me. I will reply to your original inquiry and whatever other questions you might have once I am free to do so. Am I clear? ’/
His tone didn’t leave much room for arguing. Not that Kindle would have wanted to. He was happy to be showed out the door; to pretend that absolutely nothing ever had happened.
/’ Yes sir, perfectly. ’/
/’ Good. I will talk with you later then ‘/
The comm call was dropped without a warning, and Kindle took that as a clear sign that he had been dismissed. This time he kept his movements deliberately slow and quiet as he turned around and opened the door from the control pad, and he slipped out and made sure that the door behind him closed fully before he was practically running towards the elevator.
He wasn’t even thinking about work anymore. He could worry about that maintenance job later. After he had downed a few drinks to flush out the mental images and the shock. He thought of the betting pool that had spawned after Perceptor had started to willingly spend more time with Brainstorm, and how no one could have made a bet like this. He didn’t doubt that someone had bet that the geeks were getting up to something kinky in their private time, but absolutely no one could have predicted that Perceptor would manage to teach Brainstorm some actual manners.
–
Back in the lab Perceptor allowed himself to relax minutely once the door was closed, but it was impossible to relax wholly as he knew that that wouldn’t be the last that he heard of that. Not just from Kindle, but others as well if he couldn’t keep his lips closed as gossip spread like wildfire onboard Lost Light. It would certainly be a whole headache, but he didn’t allow those thoughts to show in his touch or field as he gently continued petting Brainstorm.
He was monitoring both the jet’s EM field and frame language to see if he had been distressed by what had transpired. Fortunately it looked like he was so properly lost to the world that it couldn’t reach in to touch him in his happy little bubble. And Perceptor felt relieved, because he couldn’t imagine the damage a sudden outsider could wreck on Brainstorm’s confidence and trust. Getting him to act so compliant and polite was the result of hard and consistent work, and Perceptor would surely take more precautions to protect that precious gift in the future.
Running his hand down Brainstorm’s cheek once more, Perceptor then gently hooked a digit under his chin to raise his face up and to get him to flutter his beautiful and hazy golden optics open once more to better pay attention to his master.
“You did such a good job, Brainstorm. Now I want you to lay down for a bit to rest, okay? Get some rest and then we can work on clearing up your head.”
Brainstorm couldn’t even verbalize a response, he didn’t need to, just gently kissing Perceptor’s fingers gratefully and then the palm of his hand with his soft lips, his whole expression looking so dreamy. Before he was laying down obediently, curling up around Perceptor’s pedes to calm down just as told, happy to just get to linger in that strut deep state of relaxation with no worries in the world. Seeing Brainstorm so relaxed and happy under his control was almost enough to allow Perceptor to forget about his worries too, but just almost. One of them had to worry for both of them.
“That’s right, you’re so good for me, aren’t you,” Perceptor praised softly as he watched the other settle down, his wings folding down to fit under the desk. You wouldn’t think that a jet of this size would be comfortable curled up under a table but Brainstorm made it look like he would rather be nowhere else. Maybe Perceptor could get him a cushion to rest on if he kept showing enjoyment for staying on the floor.
He was making a mental note of the time and thinking that he would let Brainstorm enjoy his peace for fifteen more minutes before he would start to gently nudge him back to the real world. And in the meanwhile he could pretend to finish his laboratory scheduling for the crew while thinking of how he was going to deal with Kindle.
#maccadam#simpatico#brainstorm#perceptor#nsft tag#just to be safe#although it's actually pretty wholesome#canon kinky verse tag#tag for my writings
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(hi its highseasgirlbossing) hmm how abt either local lieutenant experiences midwestern winter or more things in heaven and earth, or both if you feel like it? :3 (i admit that im also curious abt not not catboy keith but i'm afraid it won't mean much to me since i havent read it yet. still, if you want to go ahead!)
you know what, let's do all three, why not!
for the first, the actual midwestern winter of it all isn't really the focus of the fic, but in the first few months of the year, I had enough nice descriptions of Trudging Through The Snow amassed from my own experiences being a fool in the midwestern winter that I thought I'd send poor dear william bush on a little journey through an extra excessive wintertime.
‘now, em, why didn’t you just put these in a terror fic, since that’s already chock full of ice and snow and other frosty times?’ you may ask, but see, it happened to fill out one of my pre-existing half-thought-out ideas quite nicely, which happened to be ‘what if all those seafaring superstitions actually came to something for once’, which I then directed into ‘bush rescues hornblower after he’s stolen by the fae’. makes no sense, yeah, but it compels me, so.
He paused, and stood for a moment as the snow sifted down around him. It shifted over the ground in little waves, the light dusting carrying in arcs and curves over the ice. It was almost unnerving to watch it move so, each swirling, eddying gust of it almost a thing alive. He looked to the left, to the right, and before knowing why, backwards. The ship was gone, and all that remained in every direction was a swirl of austere, granular white. The only sound remaining was the gentle crunch of the snow as Bush shifted from foot to foot. Every surface in sight, the slow, soft arcs of snow stretching up to where a horizon should have been, glittered white and featureless and lovely.
of course, I am taking a good number of liberties with it to give it a bit more tone than what it’s based on, since ‘oh heck I tripped and fell over in the snow again. and then I did that again. and a third time.’ doesn’t quite hit the spots I’d like to hit in this one.
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I am almost certain that 'more things in heaven and earth, horatio' will be one of my favorite things I've ever written, if I can just manage to buckle down and write the rest of the darn thing. that's right, this is the buzzfeed unsolved au!
it’s drawn from a number of things I’m inordinately fond of, such as spending about a week every winter watching buzzfeed unsolved while I sculpt until my brain begins to drip out my ears, and visiting the uss hornet with my brother. since it’s sliding rapidly back and forth between silly and spooky, I’ve gone with show-hornblower for this one. and also because I felt like this was archie’s kind of adventure, and I felt sad to leave him out of it.
“Can you say my name?” The box popped and hissed, crackling at a frequency that set Archie’s teeth on edge. “I just want to talk to you. Do you have anything you want to say?”
“Leg.” The sound emerged vague and mangled from the static, barely discernible.
“What!” Even after hundreds of investigations, the spirit box still made Archie more than a little unsettled. However, he managed to quickly recover his cool and keep the conversation going, hard on the ears as it was. “Did… did something happen to your leg here?” The box chittered ferociously, interspersed with faint and flickering voices.
“Is that a yes? Can you say …yes?” The box made an awkward squawk. Archie sighed. “Be sociable, won’t you?”
I think maybe a bit of the difficulty I’ve been having with writing it is having to first-name all three of them, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever done or seen done for them in a way that I’ve wholly enjoyed. I don’t think that that Premium Ghost Bros energy would hit right if I called them by their surnames either, so that’s something that I’m planning to keep fiddling with as I go along. it’s a very slow write, but it is also just 100% me being silly and having a good time, so it’s remained quite fun!
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if you'd believe it, this is actually the third time I've started writing something where at least one character is inexplicably a catboy, and then gotten less confident with that plot point over time until it just resulted in Just A Lot of Very Strong Cat Comparisons. (although, I've rotated enough actual attempts at worldbuilding catboys into eighteenth-century britain through my mind at this point that I should probably give up and just do that for real at some point...)
His was a lean, sharp, wildcat sort of handsomeness, and so, remembering his features set into a snarl seemed hardly out of place. Just the same, like a cat he was but little weight, all bones wrapped up in layers of uniform. No softness, nothing going spare, and instead, a sort of concise, sleek ferocity that made Ewen almost expect to be hissed at.
He laughed a quiet little laugh to himself, thinking of other cats he had known, and wondering if, with enough coaxing, Captain Windham might be convinced to make himself comfortable on the hearthrug. As Ewen did so, he could almost hear the man’s scowl deepen, though neither could see the other’s face. He allowed himself the rest of a smile, but ceased to chuckle, thinking it better to allow Windham as much of the little dignity that remained to him as he could.
I actually don’t have much of a plot to this one yet, it’s more of the smack-sentences-in-my-notes-app sort for now, but we’ll see what comes of it!
#em writes stuff#I need a casual hornblower tag#heronposting#wip ask game#the other catboy attempts were both hornblower if you were wondering#if you look really closely at two of my completed fics I'll bet you can find them#(actually if anyone comes to me bearing the Specific Catboy Passages I will uh. draw some catboy horatio maybe.)#long post
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PICK UP
Trucker!Sy is back! I had so much fun writing him, so I decided to write a follow-up to Truck Stop. In this one Sy initiates a little role play. I hope you like it just as much as part 1. If so, please leave me a reblog, comment or like 💜. Thanks!
Pairing: Syverson x reader/y/n/you (f)
Word count: 2.3 k
Summary: Sy wants to pick up a little bird at a bar. This is a follow-up to Truck Stop but you can read it without knowing part 1.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, PWP, smut, sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, roleplay, cream pie
Unbeta'ed. English isn't my first language. Mistakes ahead and they're all mine.
Credits: I don't own Captain Syverson
Find my other fics on my masterlist!
Taglist:
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84
Off we go....
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Imagine, you liked the little role play, your girlfriend surprised you with so much, you want to return the favor. You didn't tell her what you've planned, you've just told her to show up at that bar and to play along....
I am nervous, I mean like really nervous, which is silly, because it's my girlfriend I'm going to meet in a few minutes. But then again, tonight she's not my girlfriend. She's going to be a random stranger, sitting at the bar, catching my eye and I'll try to pick her up.
I enjoyed her surprise the other day so much, our little the-trucker-and-the-hitch-hiker-role play, I want to return the favor and so I told her to come to the "Midnight Cowboy" at 8 o'clock and wait there for me at the bar. And that's why I sit here in a dark corner booth with a good view at the entrance and the barstools, glancing nervously at my watch again and again. I'm really not sure if this is going to be a success. I've never been the type for one-night-stands or flings. I've always been in long-time-relationships, with my first love at high school, with two women in my twenties, with my ex-wife and now with y/n. All my relationships started the classical way. You meet through friends or through your job or at a party, you start dating, you fall in love and get serious.
Never before have I tried to hook up with a woman just for one night at a bar, guess I'm an old-fashioned boomer but well...that's me. The door opens once again and I raise my head hoping it's her but it's just a middle-aged couple with matching outfits and a tiny dog on a leash. Oh, wait, there she is, y/n follows right behind them. She looks so pretty, my heart skips a beat. It's still hard to believe that a woman like her wants to be with an ordinary trucker like me. She's dressed up, wearing a pretty summer dress that's sexy in an innocent way. It's not showing much skin but I know what a great body hides underneath, I know the curves that are wrapped up in the light blue fabric with the floral print by heart and that's why it's so promising and hot to me.
She takes a quick look around before taking a seat at the bar. I duck my head and hide myself from her eyes. I don't want her to see me, not yet. She smiles at the bartender and makes her order. It's cute how she's sitting there, fumbling with the colorful bangles on her wrist that match her outfit, glancing at her watch. She's nervous too and to be honest that's a big relief.
The guy at the other end of the bar keeps looking at her and he's not very subtle. Actually it's more ogling than looking and I feel the jealousy rise in my guts. She's my woman and I should be the one undressing her with his eyes. Well, to be honest I am. I just can't keep my eyes off of her, her gorgeous body and her lovely face. The bartender places a cocktail in front of her, it's a Tequila Sunrise, and she takes a sip, before checking the time again.
Okay, it's time for my entrance, to let the games begin. I take my beer and leave my comfortable booth to sit down at the bar. I choose a stool diagonally across from my sweet little bird to make sure it's easy to have eye contact. When she sees me she presses her lips together to suppress a grin. She gives me a quick, curious glance before she lowers her eyes on her drink. I have a swig of beer and keep looking at her to get back her attention. If I wasn't her boyfriend I probably would freak her out by staring at her like a psycho but I don't know what else to do. Luckily she knows I'm not some kind of creep and so she gives me a look and a delicate smile eventually. I return the smile, nodding at her and I raise my trucker cap a little to greet her.
She giggles and looks away, pretending a shyness that's not typical for her but very fitting for our little role play. While she fakes innocence I try to strike her as a man who knows what he's doing and who knows the rules of this game. We keep on exchanging glances and smiles but I have to make a move eventually and so I do what I consider to be smooth and I beckon the bartender to come over.
"Another beer for me please and another Tequila Sunrise for the pretty lady over there."
"Sure."
He gives me a nod and brings me a new bottle of beer just seconds later before mixing her cocktail. He places it in front of y/n, talking to her and they look in my direction at the same time. He goes back to polishing glasses and she flashes me a bright smile, mouthing 'thank you' over the country music that's a little too loud for my taste. I mouth a 'welcome' back and raise my bottle to her. She takes a sip of her drink with a sexy smirk but averts her eyes again.
Time for the next move. I get up and walk over to her with big confident strides and a bit of a swagger. I know women like the way I walk and move and y/n is no exception.
"Mind if I join you?" I smile at her with what's supposed to be a flirtatious wink. She looks me up and down skeptically.
"Why?"
"Umm…" I'm not prepared for this question and I don't know a single pick-up line that wouldn't be an absolute cliche or totally sexist, so I decide to stay close to the truth. "You just caught my eye. You're not only pretty but you seem to be an interesting person. So…" God, I suck at this. Please don't make it too hard for me, little bird.
"You can tell I'm an interesting person just by looking at me for ten minutes straight?" She gives me a teasing smile and I can't help but laugh.
"Okay, that sounds strange, I know. Let me try again, okay?"
"Okay."
"I saw you sitting here and you caught my eye. You're beautiful on the outside and I just hope on the inside you're beautiful too and hopefully an interesting person...so... I'd just like to get to know you by chatting a little." I shrug and give her a sheepish smile because I feel like an idiot.
"Well, honestly, that's a great answer. Much better than the usual pick up crap. So, yes, please..." She pats on the seat beside her and I sit and turn to her.
"Thanks. I'm Tom, by the way. But everyone calls me Sy."
"I'm y/n. Nice to meet you...Sy. Sy is short for?"
"Syverson. My last name."
"I see. Sy. I like the sound of it. Feels good on my tongue." She smiles again and I'm at a loss for words for a moment. Cheeky little bird. Time for a bold move. "I may have more things to offer that feel good on your tongue", I grin with a smirk.
"Oh, really?" She raises an eyebrow. "Such as?"
"You'll find out...eventually...maybe." I wink at her and raise my bottle. "Cheers."
"Cheers, Sy." She takes a big sip from her Tequila Sunrise and I look her deep in the eyes. "So what are you doing at this bar, all alone, y/n? Or are you waiting for someone?"
"No. I'm not. I'm here on my own. Actually I was so lonely at home, bored and unsatisfied so I decided to get out and about a bit."
"And you're lucky you found me. I'm known for keeping women entertained and satisfied." I may be overacting a little but I hope my little bird plays along. "Women? More than one at the same time?" She smiles at me innocently.
"One after another of course."
"Lucky me, I'm first in line tonight."
"Right." I laugh and she joins in, patting my thigh playfully. "You're a funny guy, Sy. So what do you do besides satisfying women? For a living I mean."
"I'm a trucker."
"Oh, that's great. Do you have your own truck?"
"Yeah. I do."
"Cool. I like big machines. Strong engines, roaring loud but running steady with a lot of power. Hard to handle but a smooth ride…"
"I bet you do." I give her one of these smirks she finds so sexy and she grins before she takes the cherry from her drink to take it in her mouth. The whole cherry, complete with fruit and stem. She chews, swallows and spits out the stone, placing it on her napkin carefully, but where's the stem, I wonder. Fascinated, I watch her tongue move around in her mouth for several seconds and then she opens her pretty lips and sticks out her tongue, presenting to me the cherry stem that now is knotted. She takes it and places it right in front of me. I gulp and look her straight in the eyes. "Did you just knot the stem with your tongue?"
"Yeah. I'm good with my tongue." She holds my gaze and licks her lips and I feel my dick twitch in my jeans. Jesus. My girlfriend is Audrey Horne and I feel like Dale Cooper all of the sudden. Fascinated, aroused and confused by her. "You mean you know more tricks than this one?" She leans in to whisper in my ear. "Many more." When I turn my head her face is just inches away from mine and I stare at her mouth, leaning in. She does the same and as soon as our lips meet we share a hungry, passionate kiss.
It takes us ten minutes to pay, leave and get to my flat that's just around the corner. As soon as the doors of the elevator close behind us y/n literally jumps me. I grab her by her ass and press her body against the wall, kissing her feverishly while she rubs her pussy over my hard-on.
When we reach my floor I carry her to my apartment, we're still making out and so I keep on stumbling, crashing into the walls of the hall several times. I manage to open the door, while y/n is licking my earlobe and kissing and sucking on my neck which makes me moan.
I put her down and drive her towards the wall until her back is pressed against the rough surface. We keep on kissing with animalistic passion and hunger and I grab her wrists and pin her hands above her head, parting her legs with my thigh at the same time. She immediately starts riding it. I use my other hand to caress her tits and our moans get louder.
I let go of her hands and sink down on my knees. I hitch up her skirt and press a hot kiss on her vulva just to pull down her panties then ever so slowly. I grab her leg and place it on my shoulder before I start to eat her pussy. God, I love this...to taste her juices, to smell her arousal, to hear her soft moans and sighs.
"God, Sy…" Her voice is thick with lust and I can tell she's close already. I go on, keep on licking and sucking, I give her pleasure with my mouth, my lips, my tongue and I know she loves the way my beard scratches her sensitive skin. I work my magic on her clit and she cums soon with a long lustful moan, whispering my name while her fingers run over my scalp. I get up and she pulls me close for another kiss, she loves tasting herself on my tongue. She tugs on the hem of my shirt and I strip it off and throw it away. Her hands run over my hairy chest and when she pinches my hard nipples I let out a feral growl. "Babe...I need you. I want you." I pant out of breath.
"Fuck me, Sy."
I open my fly in a hurry and get my dick out. It's so hard it almost hurts and I just want to stuff her sweet little pussy with my fat cock. My jeans drop to the floor and I grab her by her waist to lift her up. She wraps her legs around my hips and I place my hands on her ass, squeezing her cheeks. I move her in the right position to enter her and make her sink onto my dick. I glide inside of her and immediately start to thrust. I fuck her fast, I fuck her hard, I fuck her deep and we both love it. I groan and grunt like an animal. My brain's stopped working, it's just basic instinct and lust now and I get closer to the edge with every raw thrust.
Her little shrieks and the way she moans tell me I hit exactly the right spot and the fact that she's about to cum again makes me even hornier, driving my arousal to new heights. I get higher and higher and when she calls my name from the top of her second climax, scratching my back, her whole body shivering, I explode inside of her. I orgasm with a loud groan and keep on thrusting when I cum, savouring every single second of this hot play's grand finale. I pull my cock out and take a step back, still out of breath. I look at her and she's a mess, her clothes crumpled, my cum running down her thighs. I cup her face and kiss her tenderly. "I've ruined your pretty dress."
"Forget the stupid dress, baby. You've made my day."
She kisses me back and it's the beginning of a long night full of love making - of two people who know each other well and love each other much, having sex that is even better than the spectacular fuck of these two, who pretended to be strangers. And I can tell you, she showed me all of her tricks that night.
#henry cavill#cavillry#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#captain syverson#captain syverson pov#captain syverson x reader#syverson#syverson smut#syverson fic#captain syverson fanfiction
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The Third Set
PAIRING: Tsukishima Kei x Reader
GENRE: Romance | Pining | Fluff | A lil crack (kinda)
WARNINGS: not proofread | a lil ooc and soft at the end (pls dont get mad at me 😭😭)
WORD COUNT: 1k+
A/N: hihihi ok so this idea literally came to me while reading another fic (i cant remember it now im super sorry) and it wouldnt leave my head so i couldnt NOT write it yk? pls keep in mind that it gets rlly soft at the end and really out of character😭 i just hc that does affectionate things during an adrenaline rush, like he's too hyped to care ab what going on around him he just wants to see you, and so this is basically where that came from kasjkhasd- also this is not meant to be spicy at all whatsoever (although some remarks from the others are made that way when you read) its supposed to be romantic and lighthearted, so pls dont think its that sexual😭 also thank you @awmahleebkg my wife for giving me the confidence to post this i love you baby <333
Watching Kei play was one of your favorite things to do. Sure, that might sound a little sad, but watching him and his team working together on the court was something that you wouldn't miss the world for. Until an away game came along, it taking place somewhere farther than they usually are, and since you weren't a part of the team, you couldn't take the school bus with them. So, you took the city bus. He might have told you not to, he might have told you to wait at your house for him to return and tell you about it, but you couldn't help it. This was an important game, and you needed to be there and support him.
He was nervous, although someone who didn't know as well as you wouldn't be able to tell, you were always able to see right through him. Always able to tell when he was nervous or scared, even intimidated. He found it annoying, that you were always there for him, confused as to why you dedicated your time for him, but years after your first meeting he realized that he would do the same for you. You didn't know that his heartbeat the same way for you as it did for him, and he sure as hell didn't know that the reason you stuck by him all these years was to feel that exact heartbeat next to yours.
[3:37 P.M.]
Kei <3: Stay home, y/n
Y/n: but it's an important game! i want to cheer you on!
Kei <3: I'll tell you what happens after I get home if you really want me to. But stop whining at me it's annoying.
Y/n: 😠😠 let. me. go.
Kei <3: No.
Y/n: i hate you so much
Kei <3: Sure you do
You wouldn't listen to him, of course. Why would you? You get your bag ready to leave, filling it with snacks and water bottles to help the team out.
By the time you snuck in, it was half-way past the second set. Tensions were high and sweat was dripping off their jaws while they gain each point. You made sure to stay a little quieter, not wanting Kei's attention to be drifted away from the game, especially since you weren't supposed to be there. By the time they won that set, they were tied with the other team. One more set left, things are getting really heated.
The score remained close to each other throughout the game, Karasuno being two points away from a win with their opponent three points behind them. Watching Kei as he looks at the floor with frustrated eyes, obviously mad at himself for not doing better. He frowns, taking a sip of water so no one sees it. You can see a slight tint of fear in his eyes- he was scared of losing the set. Although all you've seen were blocks of perfection, even a couple spikes that hit the court floor aggressively, points going towards Karasuno once more, he thought he wasn't doing good enough. You knew he was amazing, everyone in the room knew it too, so why didn't he?
He jogs back on the court after a timeout from the other team, getting into a serve/receive position, waiting for the ball to come over the net. The server on the other team hit the ball over, sending it straight to Nishinoya, who receives the ball perfectly, passing it to Kageyama. Backing up into the set, Hinata runs behind Kageyama, surprising the blockers on the other side of the net when Hinata smacks the floating ball down with his might. Instead of the ball hitting the floor, the left-back position receives the ball at the seam, shanking it towards the audience.
Another point.
The crowd goes wild and the air tightens as the scoreboard raises. You bounce on the bleachers and stomp your feet in excitement, knowing that this match would be over soon.
Kei exhales sharply at the whistle, relief, and nervousness seeping out of him. He can do it, he thought. Only one more point. When the ball passes him to the other side of the court, quickly moves to the right side of the net, jumping and completely regretting his decision once the ball hits the floor. He watches the ball trail off in shock, the whistle suddenly getting too loud for him. He grits his teeth in defeat, thinking that it would be over for them. His head faces the ground, his hands are balled up in fists. That's when you decide to take initiative.
Inhaling a harsh breath, you stand up putting your hands on each side of your face before yelling out to him.
"TSUKISHIMA KEI!!!"
His head whips from the floor, his eyes widening once they find yours in the big crowd. You stand out- to him at least.
"DON'T GIVE UP!!! YOU GOT THIS!! LET'S GO!!"
His pupils dilate at your figure cheering him on, suddenly wishing he hadn't told you to stay home. He didn't know you were there, or how you get here in the first place, but he was glad you came. He wanted you there. His shocked expression turned into a smirk of confidence before he turns back around and goes to his position. The whistle blows once more, telling the server that they can go. He refocuses on the court, watching the ball and everyone near it, analyzing everyone's movements and predicting where the ball is going to go. The big spiker on the other team runs towards the net with his approach, swinging his arms back, ready to slam the ball down as Kei quickly beats him to it, jumping and raising his arms on top of the net in defense.
The ball smacks the floor of the court.
Kei's eyes glow when his feet touch the ground again.
They won.
He tries his best to catch his breath, heaving once his teammates trample him on the ground. You scream in victory, jumping up and down, sprinting down the bleachers to the team, them welcoming you with tight hugs and cries of joy. Electricity coursed through Kei's veins, adrenaline making his sight clearer, his hearing less muffled and his breathing a lot clearer.
You see Kei on the other side of the court, getting up and steadying himself on his feet once you two lock eyes. You run towards him with a fast pace, him reciprocating as his legs speed up toward you. You jump on him, clinging to him as much as you could when wrapping your legs around him, digging your head in his shoulder. His hand immediately grab the back of your thighs for support, helping your body balance on his while you tug on his neck.
You praise him, telling him how proud you were of him picking himself up and being the best, telling him how amazing his blocks and spikes were, how amazing he was. You could hear his breathless laughs of joy, a genuine smile painting his face when you subconsciously pepper his face in firm pecks from your lips, showering him in sweet affection for his win.
"YOU DID SO AMAZING KEI!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! THAT WAS SO COOL!! YOU SHOULDA SEEN YOURSELF OUT THERE! OH MY GOD THAT WAS- THAT WAS PERFECT!! I KNOW YOU WERE DOUBTING YOURSELF A LITTLE BIT BUT YOU WERE AMAZING THE WHOLE TIME I MEAN-"
Your words muffle when his lips crash onto your- a rough, exciting kiss that has you moaning in his mouth from surprise and desperation from wanting this for the longest time. Your hands slide up from his neck to his cheeks, palming them and pulling him closer while your lips disconnect and reconnect rapidly, not being able to get enough of each other. His hands subtly, but firmly squeeze your thighs while you tilt your head, giving him the chance to kiss you deeper. The amount of emotion going through your bodies, desperation, love, excitement, impatience, relief, mixing with the adrenaline in your system's causing your worlds to finally collide and mix.
"What are they doing?"
"I don't know but I feel like I'm interrupting something"
"I think they're the ones interrupting"
"Just let them have this one, guys"
"They are literally about to do it on the court how am I not supposed to feel uncomfortable, Suga-san?"
"Aw, these lovebirds are finally getting together, I knew it would happen"
"Liar, you bet they wouldn't!"
"Tanaka-san! You weren't supposed to say anything!"
You couldn't hear any of the banter in the background, your only focus was him, and his only focus was you. And all the team could do was watch.
pls i know this was rlly ooc im super sorry
taglist: @combat-wombatus @hitosushi @toosharkinternet @alpha3113 @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @solar3lunar @zerohawks @katsuhera
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu hcs#tsukishima#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima drabbles#tsukishima scenarios#tsukishima headcanons#tsukishima hcs#haikyuu tsukishima#momo<3
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Hey Col! How about 34 & 20 (if you haven’t answered those!) for the asks?? Love ya!
'Best of 2021' Asks!
Hey bud! Hope you're having a great day <3
34: WIPs for 2022 👀
This fucking Firefighter!Bucky is going to be posted in 2022 even if it kills me!!!! I'm hoping to get a masterlist posted in the next couple of weeks if I can get my act together. :) And I have a title I think finally.... Oh also @w0nderw0man91 low key gave me the idea to maybe do a zombie apocalypse fic??? That may never happen but hey it could be fun lmao.
20: closing lines
Both closing lines for The Sergeant's Heart make me teary every time I read them in the best way. <3
Epilogue </3
A thousand images ran through your head in that moment.
A boy with unruly hair climbing a tree in the woods by a lake, smiling from ear to ear.
Two figures dancing in the kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms, looking at each other with complete adoration.
A group of people sitting around a fire, drinking and laughing in the midst of chaos and destruction.
Sitting in a fox hole, resting your head on the shoulder of a blue-eyed soldier as you looked up at the stars, filled with a sense of true peace.
The last thing you felt were lips lightly pressed against your hand.
Epilogue <3
Blue eyes met yours once more, filled with nothing but pure affection. “I love you, Y/n.”
“I love you too, Buck.”
“MOOOOOOM! DAAAAAD!” A crash echoed upstairs.
Bucky sighed. “Alright, let’s put an end to this war.”
“Hopefully no one needs a medic.”
He laughed. “If they do, I think I know someone we can call.” He pulled you by the hand as you both walked inside, Frank continuing to sing softly in the midst of whatever chaos you were about to face.
“Oh really?” You asked sarcastically.
He turned to wink at you. “Yeah, best one in the whole damn world. Gorgeous as hell, too. I bet she might even offer a friends and family discount.”
You giggled. “Sounds like quite a woman.”
He paused at the foot of the stairs, leaning forward for another kiss.
“She’s my whole heart.”
I'm not sure if this counts or if I was supposed to put the literal last lines of the fic but eff it IT'S MY INBOX I'LL DO WHAT I WANT :,)
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Here we come with day two of pegoryu week, and it's gonna be the last one I post on time. I'll still be trying, don't get me wrong, I'm just not the kind of person who can write a fic I'm happy with in one day.
Yet.
As always, bulk of the fic is under a cut, link is in the reblogs, and I will daydream of baking you cookies if you share it.
“I did warn you.”
“Not even an arcade, dude?”
“Not unless you wanna get on a train for forty minutes.”
“Ugh. Laaaaame.”
After nearly a month of planning, Ryuji was visiting his boyfriend for Golden Week. One whole month of bargaining with all of their parents, putting aside every last yen they could spare, studying their asses off to earn the trip, and, of course, long phone conversations that were probably about eighty percent “I miss you”s and “I love you”s and “I can’t wait to see you”s. With Akira’s help via video call study sessions, Ryuji even managed to get into the top thirty percent of the class in their latest exams; a new record for him that effectively guaranteed the visit. But they’d been so busy celebrating and planning getting him out to the country that they may have completely forgotten to figure out what they were actually going to do when he got there. So now they were on the Kurusus’ living room couch, Akira cross-legged on one end and Ryuji stretched out across the rest with his head on his boyfriend’s lap, trying to scrape together a date idea.
“I’ll say it again. I warned you. Several times,” Akira repeated while he ran a hand through Ryuji’s hair. “There’s nothing to see here.” Ryuji caught Akira’s free hand, tangled their fingers together, and kissed the back of his hand.
“Yeah there is. You’re here, so I say it’s worth it.” Ryuji grinned as his boyfriend turned pink at the tips of his ears and wrinkled his nose.
“Sap,” Akira grumbled like there wasn’t a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Like they both didn’t know full well how much he liked hearing how happy Ryuji was that they were together, in every sense of the word.
“You love me,” Ryuji said, his grin widening just a little further. Akira’s expression melted into something almost embarrassingly soft as he went back to playing with his boyfriend’s hair. He curled and combed his fingers gently through the short strands, and huffed out a quiet laugh as Ryuji went boneless when he grazed his nails over his scalp.
“Yeah. I really do,” Akira sighed happily and got another kiss pressed to his knuckles. “You’re kind of my hero, you know.” It was something he’d tried to make a habit of telling his boyfriend, even before they were dating. Ryuji still sputtered and objected like it was his first time hearing it.
“You-- I-- that ain’t…” He sat up and shoved a pillow into Akira’s face with a groan. “Now who’s the sap?”
Akira draped himself across Ryuji’s shoulders and planted a kiss on the side of his neck, then smiled against his skin at the shiver that got. “You just have that effect on me, sunshine.” Ryuji grunted in response. “You like it.” Another grunt. Akira blew a puff of air at the back of Ryuji’s ear and laughed when he got swatted away. “Don’t pout. You were right, a date sounds nice. But you gotta help me figure it out.”
His boyfriend sprawled back out on the couch after pouting for a few more seconds, then looked up at him with those big brown eyes he’d been a sucker for since day one.
“Aight, what kind of food you got around here?” Akira could have been exasperated at his boyfriend’s predictability, but a dinner date was more feasible than a movie date, and a lot more pleasant than a gym date. He may have loved Ryuji Sakamoto with all his heart, but he didn’t plan on running again on the regular unless it was for his damn life.
“There’s only like ten places total around here. We’ve already visited three, two of them won’t serve me because the owners don’t like me anymore--”
Ryuji’s head jerked up at that, knocking Akira’s hand free. It was ridiculous how cute the guy was when he was offended. “What?! Why the hell not?”
Akira shrugged and went back to petting Ryuji’s hair in an attempt to soothe him. “Didn’t exactly bother to ask, but probably my record. Cleared of charges or not, my reputation mutated while I was gone and I haven’t really been able to fix it.” Not that he’d tried very hard when he didn’t plan on staying for even a second longer than necessary.
The frown that wrinkled Ryuji’s features was almost comical, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at while he was already agitated. Especially when it was on Akira’s behalf. “Ugh, this town sucks, can’t wait to get you out of here. Wait, only probably your record? Why else would they dislike you?”
Akira huffed out another laugh, wry and joyless this time. “My uncle’s a pretty conservative guy, I heard he didn’t react well when he found out I was dating some guy from the city.” Quite literally heard it; he’d been getting ready to visit his cousin and could hear the old man shouting inside the house from the sidewalk. He’d opted to text Yuuta to meet up somewhere well away from their house instead when that happened. And, naturally, the news had mysteriously spread to the rest of town by the end of that week.
Ryuji sat bolt upright and twisted back around to face Akira with a scowl. “Your own effin’ family won’t serve you? What the hell?!” His expression was thunderous, made worse by the doomcloud over his head when he asked. Ryuji almost never got pulled into fights these days and was very proud of that fact--they both were--but Akira was certain that he was ready to deck the old man on sight on his behalf. He’d never encourage it, but the thought still made something in his chest swell a little.
“Just my uncle when I try to sit in. If it’s my aunt or my cousin taking delivery calls, they’ll still take the order. Plus a discount and extra desserts, if Yuuta’s the one who answers.” Akira shrugged, then tugged at Ryuji’s shirt to coax him into laying back down in his lap. He did, albeit begrudgingly, and Akira went back to running his hands soothingly through that remarkably soft shock of bright blond hair. “Anyways, the other five restaurants in town are fast food that you could get back home. So…” He trailed off and watched Ryuji’s scowl soften into an annoyed frown.
“Yeah, pass.” Ryuji closed his eyes, either to think or soak up Akira’s touch as he played with his hair, then cracked one eye open after a moment. “How ‘bout a picnic? You’re a pretty good cook and I bet we could find us a nice spot to just chill.”
That... was a pretty solid idea. Actually, that sounded perfect, and Akira knew exactly the spot for them to set up. He opened his mouth to agree, but was cut off by a low rumble of thunder outside. “...Maybe later this week? The weather should clear up before you have to go,” he said instead. Ryuji pouted up at the ceiling, or more likely up at the sky beyond it for ruining his brilliant plan. Then it was Akira’s turn to pout when Ryuji abruptly sat back up out of reach, but not for long.
The next thing he knew, he was being crowded up against the arm of the couch by one blond bombshell of an ex-track star. Ryuji was suddenly determined to pour himself into his boyfriend’s lap, all mischief and heat as he crawled across the couch towards Akira. He couldn’t think clearly while facing down that wicked grin curving across Ryuji’s face like Haru’s favorite battleaxe cleaving through the air. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d made out. It wouldn’t even be the first time Ryuji had taken the initiative and left Akira a flustered wreck when they did. But since it had been over a month since the last time he’d seen that look face to face, it was having more of an effect than usual, and Akira was left frantically trying to cling to his cool.
“I have an idea, babe.” Ryuji said lowly and Akira’s mouth went dry. Hands bracketed Akira’s hips on the couch as his boyfriend crept closer. “Y’wanna hear it?” Akira nodded and felt heat flare across his skin when he realized Ryuji was keeping that hooded, heated gaze fixed firmly on his lips. “Since your folks ain’t supposed to be back before tomorrow afternoon,” Ryuji’s tone was as light as his body was heavy as he straddled Akira and looped strong arms around his neck, “I was thinkin’ maybe… we could…” Akira was desperately trying to focus on the words being whispered into his ear over his boyfriend kissing his way up his neck and leaving his skin prickling in the wake of every touch.
“Y-yeah?” He couldn’t help the nervous flutter in his stomach. If Ryuji was implying what he thought he was implying... They hadn’t done… that... yet. Even with the house to themselves all day, they hadn’t actually talked about it, in part because Akira hadn’t even thought about it seriously yet. That nervous flutter hadn’t subsided and was starting to feel a little more like an anxious lurch.
Ryuji continued, oblivious to his boyfriend’s nerves with his face tucked against his neck. “We could maybe…” Akira’s hands flexed involuntarily around Ryuji’s hips. He didn’t dislike the idea, just-- His unsteady train of thought was thrown off again when soft lips brushed over his ear. “...watch One Piece together?” After a beat where Akira was left blinking stupidly for several seconds, Ryuji sat back on his legs with a grin that had gone from sultry to shit-eating on a dime. Oh. Okay, he could handle that. “I gotta get you caught up to me, plus I wanna see how much we can get through in one sitting.”
“...you’re truly a romantic for the ages, sunshine,” Akira responded flatly as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. He was teasing back now, because honestly that idea sounded just as good as the picnic, with a lot less effort to set up.
“I know,” he answered confidently, but his smile slipped a little. “Is that a no? I just thought maybe I could buy us dinner from your shitty uncle, and we can cuddle while we take advantage of that big TV with the fancy sound system.” Ryuji gestured hopefully to the flatscreen behind them that was nearly as big as Akira’s bed back at Leblanc.
“Sounds good. Netflix and chill, it is,” Akira declared. When he caught the way Ryuji’s smile and shoulders tightened slightly, he added, “y’know, in the most literal sense.” It wasn’t as though he was happy to see Ryuji nervous, but when his boyfriend relaxed at the reassurance, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that the two of them were on the same page as far as that was concerned.
---
Aki hadn’t been kidding when he said his cousin would hook them up. There was probably double what they’d ordered plus desserts in the bags the guy handed off.
“So, you must be the boyfriend, huh? He talks about you a lot. Y’know, for him.” Yuuta asked as he leaned on the doorway. Ryuji just grinned, because yes, that was him, he was The Boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. It’d been months and Ryuji still got all giddy about it like it was brand new. Yuuta interrupted his thoughts when he called out past Ryuji to where Akira was sitting and watching TV, “Man, talk about punching above your weight!” Ryuji blushed and opened his mouth to object before Akira could start bragging on how amazing Ryuji was.
Apparently Akira had other plans, because before he could, two sharp whistles rang out behind Ryuji and he reacted basically on instinct. It was the signal Akira had always used to mean duck or you’ll get hit in the Metaverse, and Ryuji’s knees buckled with almost no input from his brain. He had just enough time to worry if he’d spilled the food--thankfully he hadn’t--when one of the couch throw pillows whiffed past his head and nailed Yuuta in the face.
“ACK! The fuck, dude?! See if I give you free dessert again, jackass,” the guy yelled and hucked the pillow back--and missed, from the sound of Akira’s laughter. Ryuji straightened up with a grin as Yuuta turned to him. “How the hell did you two even do that?”
“We’re just cool like that, I guess.” Ryuji shrugged. No need to explain how many times he’d accidentally taken a Lucky Punch or whatever in the back of the head because he got signals mixed up. “Seriously though, thanks for hookin’ us up, dude.” He held up the food and then added a little more quietly, “and, uh, thanks for havin’ Aki’s back while he’s here. It’s easier to not worry if I know there’s at least someone here talkin’ to him besides that damn cat.” That got a snort of laughter out of the delivery guy.
“No problem? I’d say obviously, ‘cause he’s family, but… Well, I’m sure he told you. Our family kinda sucks sometimes.” He frowned, shook his head, then brightened back up. “Anyways, sweet of you to worry. He really did luck out when he found you, huh?” Yuuta said as he stepped back from the door.
Ryuji shook his head. “You got it backwards, man. I’m the lucky one.” He turned back to where his boyfriend was watching TV, now fully absorbed in the show even if he didn’t really look like it. Ryuji couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped him; he had his boyfriend again and he was going all in on one of Ryuji’s favorite things just because it was one of Ryuji’s favorite things, and it looked like he was actually enjoying it, too. When he turned back, Yuuta was halfway to his scooter, still loaded down with bags of food.
“You really believe that, huh?” He called back. “You keep that attitude, Sakamoto. Even when he’s bein’ a menace, alright? ‘Cause he’s a menace, but he’s my menace, and I’ll serve you up as dumplings if you hurt him!” The scooter rumbled to life and Yuuta added over the noise of the motor, “And you tell him the same thing. I like ya, so he’s gonna be the next lunch special if he’s an asshole to you!”
Ryuji waved in acknowledgment as he sped off, then closed the door and dropped the bag of takeout next to Akira. They paused the episode long enough to sort through the food; a double order of dumplings, pork miso for Akira, spicy vegetable ramen for Ryuji, ginger pork with rice that he was pretty sure they didn’t order at all, and half a goddamn cheesecake for them to split. It was an impressive spread that Akira was already calculating how much was going to be crammed into the fridge at the end of the night.
“Well. Anything we don’t finish tonight can go with us on the picnic?” He suggested as he started on his soup and turned the show back on. They hadn’t made it very far in just yet, and definitely had an uphill battle ahead of them.
Ryuji nodded, mouth already full of noodles. “Shoundsh good to me, dude.” Akira made a face at him like he always did when he talked around a mouth full of food, and Ryuji washed it down with some of the broth. “Family recipe?”
Akira hummed a confirmation around his own food, but paused to actually finish his bite. “Yup. Not as good as the place you took me, but I could just be biased.” Ryuji could hear the smirk in his voice that always cropped up when he was thinking about saying something sappy. Ryuji cut him off before he could, though. Butterflies wouldn’t leave much room in his stomach for ramen.
“I was thinkin’ the same thing. The Ogikubo thing, not the bias thing. Didn’t wanna offend, though.” Ryuji said and took another sizable bite. Even mediocre ramen was still pretty good in his opinion.
Akira chuckled. “Nah. Actually, the ramen there’s always been a little lackluster. I could’ve offered some advice to improve it once I got back, but now? Fuck that guy.”
Ryuji tried not to choke on his food with the laugh that threatened to escape. Scalding, spicy broth shooting out of your nose kinda sucked, especially if you got a noodle along with it. That was an experience he wasn’t keen on repeating. He swallowed down his bite and rasped, “could always pass it on to your cousin. He seems pretty cool when he ain’t threatenin’ to cook us.”
“Ah, you got the shovel talk, then--wait, us?” Akira nodded, but then froze partway and whipped his head around to Ryuji, who nodded in return after clearing his throat.
“Mhm. Said he likes me, ‘n if you break my heart you’re gonna be a lunch special,” Ryuji grinned.
“Asshole. He knows I can’t stand most of what’s in the rotation.” Akira grumbled and pouted into his soup. “What’d he threaten you with?”
“Dumplings.”
Akira’s eyebrows disappeared up into his bangs at that. “Damn, I think he likes you better than me. Uncle’s place is famous for its dumplings,” he explained as he picked the last bit of pork out of his bowl.
“I’m… honored? So is all your family this weird, or is it just you two?” Ryuji asked around another mouthful of noodles. The broth was definitely missing something, but the vegetables were pretty damn good; still pretty crisp but not undercooked. Good flavor on their own, prolly locally grown, too. “Also, how is a place in the middle of nowhere famous for anything?”
“Hey, we still have several other towns nearby, and folks will come here specifically for those dumplings. So you should be honored.” Akira huffed as he popped one of said dumplings in Ryuji’s mouth. Shit, it was pretty killer. Leagues better than his ramen. And of course his boyfriend looked as smug as Morgana when he caught the look on Ryuji’s face. “As for the weirdness? No idea. Around here it’s just me and Yuuta, but I don’t really know much about the ones that don’t live here. Might be because we’re in the middle of nowhere, might be because the ones who live here make a habit of cutting off any undesirables.” Aki shrugged and leaned up against Ryuji. “Maybe I’ll see if I can find any of them when I leave. I dunno.”
Ryuji leaned right back into him and planted a kiss against Aki’s temple, earning himself a pleased little hum from his boyfriend that he felt more than heard. “I’ll be right there with you if you do. I always got your back, babe.” Akira finished his soup and curled up against his side, tucked under one arm. It was nice, even if it meant now Ryuji had to figure out how to eat his ramen one-handed. Eh, he’d figure it out, it’s not like there was much left in the bowl anyway. “So, uh, earlier. You seemed a little tense when I was teasin’ you? And not like usual. I didn’t, like, push too much, did I?”
Akira had suddenly gone very still under his arm. Not the best sign.
“No. But, uh don’t take this the wrong way or anything, I was definitely glad you just wanted to watch One Piece with me. For a second there, I thought you wanted to…” He buried his face against Ryuji’s shoulder. God, his boyfriend was stupidly cute when he got all shy. “...y-y’know. Anyways, I was relieved when you seemed just as nervous about it? Not to be an asshole, but I’m kinda glad it isn’t just me who isn’t ready.”
“Right.” Well, that was that question out of the way, but now he’d paved the way for a new one that’d been rattling around in his head for a while now. God, best case scenario, Akira was probably gonna laugh in his face. Him? Ryuji Sakamoto, of all people, not interested in that? “What if…” He hesitated and tried again. “Well, how long would you be okay with that?”
“What do you mean?” Akira tipped his head up to look Ryuji in the eye. That really didn’t help things, ‘cause even on a good day Ryuji tended to feel small when Akira looked at him like that.
“Like…” Ryuji took a deep breath and steeled himself. “WhatifI’mneverready?” His stomach clenched. There it was, he’d finally said it. Years of wondering if his friends were just exaggerating what they wanted to do with the girls in their class; months of internet research and arguing with himself even when it was the only answer that made sense and trying to backtrack or minimize it with ‘well maybe I’m only kinda like that, maybe I’m that demi thing, maybe I’ll find someone’ to try and soften the blow; a whole year of slowly coming to the realization that that just wasn’t something on the table for him, no matter how attractive Ann was or how close him and Akira got, he just wasn’t wired for wanting that kind of thing, even if he wanted the rest of the sappy, romantic couple shit for as long as he could get it, ideally the rest of his life. All of that had built up to one rushed confession that could make this trip out to the country really effin’ miserable when he still had four more days of crashing at his boyfriend’s place.
“Didn’t... quite catch that?” Akira said after a moment of trying to process what Ryuji had just blurted out. Goddammit. Of course he didn’t.
Ryuji took a deep breath and tried again. “What if… I’m never ready for that? Would that be a dealbreaker?” His heart was hammering as he forced the words out a little more slowly this time. And Akira already looked annoyed. Shit. Shit. He couldn’t look him in the eye and instead stared down at his feet, trying desperately to swallow the queasy feeling in his stomach that threatened to bounce his lunch back up onto the floor in front of him. Ryuji opened his mouth to backpedal, to assure him that if he really wanted to then Ryuji would try for him even if the idea was kind of completely terrifying--
“Of course not!” The sharpness of his tone was what registered first and Ryuji was already braced for a breakup when the words actually hit him. It wasn’t a dealbreaker. It was okay. They were okay. They were... actually okay?
“Wh-- forreal?” Ryuji’s voice cracked embarrassingly and Akira shifted against him, one hand coming up to his chin to make him look at him.
“I already told you, you’re my hero. You…” Akira opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was looking for the right words and couldn’t find them. One hand cupped Ryuji’s jaw and ran a calloused thumb across his cheek, and Ryuji couldn’t help but press into the touch. “You’re everything to me. I could write books on all the things that make you amazing; your compassion, your kindness, your loyalty, your smile, all of it. So what if we never…” Akira blushed a little, but he seemed determined to power through the embarrassment. “So what if we never have sex? What do I care? I love you, Ryuji Sakamoto, I’m not giving up my sunshine, the best thing that ever happened to me, for anything.”
Ryuji swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat and buried his face against Akira’s neck. Even away from Leblanc, he still smelled like coffee and curry, still smelled like home. Akira had called it home too, and had told him once that he made Boss’ recipes whenever he was homesick for the cafe, or his team, or… Or for Ryuji. Ryuji wanted to believe him so badly. “It’s easy to say that when you still ain’t ready for it, but--”
“I won’t change my mind,” he insisted so vehemently that no part of Ryuji could even think of an argument. Even the part of him that had been certain for months that even admitting he was asexual to himself would ruin everything. “It’s not like I can’t take care of things myself. And that just means more time for everything else.” Akira paused and pressed a kiss to Ryuji’s forehead. “More time to cook your favorite foods,” kiss, “more time to cuddle,” kiss, “more time to watch our favorite shows, all of it.” Akira dropped one last kiss on his temple and went back to running his fingers through Ryuji’s hair. Then he added, almost too quietly to hear, “for the rest of our lives if you’ll let me.” Let him? He’d fuckin’ beg him if he had to.
“Babe, you’re gonna make me cry,” Ryuji said thickly, as if they couldn’t both feel the wet spots forming on Akira’s shirt from where tears were already streaming down his face. Part of him was still scared he wasn’t going to be enough, and it probably always would be for one reason or another. But for now it was easy to relax into his boyfriend’s embrace and trust that he planned on sticking around a little longer.
Akira kept playing with Ryuji's hair the way he knew he loved and wrapped his other arm tightly around him. He pressed a few more kisses to the top of Ryuji’s head and then asked, “do you need me to stop?” Ryuji shook his head and got another kiss. “Alright. Take all the time you need, sunshine.”
“Thanks, babe.”
“We’re gonna need to restart the episode after, though.”
#persona 5#pegoryu#pegoryu week 2021#my writing#had the idea for ace ryuji halfway through this prompt and couldn't resist giving favorite characters the tenderness I have yet to find#so if you clown here I will physically fight you
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Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale
Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission
Wordcount: 12.2k
Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation
Rating: suggested 18+
Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.
Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat.
The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).
On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”.
On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.
On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.
Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one.
Here is my masterlist!
Enjoy 💖
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EDIT: You can find part two here
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Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.
As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.
Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.
"Hello!" She greeted her friend.
"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.
"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.
"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"
"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.
"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.
"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."
"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."
Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"
"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.
Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."
Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.
"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.
"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."
The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.
There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.
"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.
"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."
"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”
Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.
"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.
“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.
"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."
"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."
"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."
"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.
"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.
"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.
Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"
"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.
"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."
Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"
"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.
"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.
"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."
"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."
Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."
"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.
"Do I know that little bird?"
"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.
"I'll make sure to thank him."
Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."
Vixen clapped enthusiastically.
Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.
"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.
"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.
"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.
"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."
"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.
"Exactly."
"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."
Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."
"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.
"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.
While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."
The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.
"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.
"You're still a doll." Princess commented.
"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."
"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."
Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."
"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."
"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."
"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."
"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.
"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.
"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.
"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"
"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.
Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.
"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.
"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.
"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.
"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."
"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."
Lace nodded.
"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”
Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”
“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”
Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"
"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.
"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.
"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.
"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."
"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."
"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.
"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."
"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."
"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."
Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."
Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.
"Okay." Princess confirmed.
"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.
Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."
"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.
Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.
"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.
Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."
Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."
Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."
Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."
"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.
Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."
Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.
"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.
Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.
"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.
Princess nodded.
"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."
"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.
“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”
Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”
Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”
“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.
"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.
"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.
Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."
Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”
“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”
Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.
“I’m scared.”
“Have you told him?”
“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”
“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”
“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.
“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”
“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”
“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”
“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”
“I am too.”
Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”
Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”
“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”
“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.
“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.
Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.
“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”
“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”
“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”
Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”
“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”
Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”
Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.
Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm�� hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.
“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”
“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.
“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”
Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”
“Girls throw thems—”
“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.
“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.
“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.
Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”
“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.
“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.
“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.
“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”
Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”
Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”
Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”
A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.
“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”
“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.
“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”
Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”
Lace nodded.
“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”
“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.
Vixen smiled cutely.
“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.
“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”
“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.
“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”
“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.
“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.
Vixen smiled widely.
“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.
“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”
Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”
“Any remark, Vixen?”
She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.
“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.
“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”
“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”
“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.
“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”
“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”
“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.
“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.
“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.
“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”
“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”
“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.
“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.
Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”
“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.
“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.
“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.
“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”
“Like canes and spiked toys?”
“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.
Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”
“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.
“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”
Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”
“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”
Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”
“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.
Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”
Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”
“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”
“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.
“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.
Vixen stood up gingerly.
“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.
The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.
“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.
Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”
“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”
“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”
Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”
“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”
“Yup.” The other replied.
“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.
Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”
“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”
“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”
“May I?” She asked.
“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”
Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.
Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”
“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.
Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”
“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.
Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.
“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.
Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.
Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.
“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”
Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.
“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.
“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.
“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”
“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”
Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.
“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.
Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.
Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”
Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”
“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.
“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.
“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”
Vixen nodded. “It does.”
Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.
The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.
Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.
“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.
“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”
“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.
“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”
“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.
“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”
“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.
“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”
“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.
“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”
“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.
Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.
“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”
As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.
Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”
“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”
Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”
“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.
Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.
“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”
“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”
Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.
“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”
“What’s that?” Princess asked.
“Vixen.” Lace called.
“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.
Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.
“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”
“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.
Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.
“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.
Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.
But for now she would make do.
“You ready for the next?”
“Yes.” Vixen replied.
Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.
Princess cackled. “Sure.”
Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”
Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”
Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”
“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”
“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”
“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.
“Yup.”
“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.
“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.
Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”
“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”
Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”
Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.
Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”
Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.
“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.
“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.
Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.
Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.
Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.
Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.
A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.
Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”
Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”
“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.
“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.
Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”
Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”
Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”
Vixen giggled at her side.
“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.
Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”
Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.
“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”
“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”
Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”
Vixen purred at that.
Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.
“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.
“Yeah, just — thinking.”
Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”
“Sounds nice.” Princess said.
“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”
“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.
Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”
Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”
“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.
“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.
“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”
“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.
“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”
“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.
“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”
“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.
“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.
“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.
“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”
“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”
“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.
Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”
“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”
Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.
A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”
Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.
“Good one. Did it hurt?”
Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”
The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.
“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.
“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.
“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.
“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.
The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.
“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.
“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”
“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.
“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”
Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”
“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.
A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.
“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.
“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”
Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”
“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.
“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.
The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.
The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.
“Hello?”
-----------------------------------------------
Part two here
#bts blog#the Girlfriends#introducing the girlfriends#bangtan sonyeondan#bts fic#Bts smut#bangtan smut#Introducing vixen#introducing princess#Introducing lace#namjoon x reader#namjoon x vixen#jimin x reader#Jimin x princess#taehyung x reader#taehyung x lace#bts fanfiction
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Gimme Love, 6/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder
AN: Welp, I'm back from travelling! For anyone interested to know how it went; it was great (if you love stress). Liverpool is a lovely place but I've destroyed my bank account :D
Anyway! We got 4 more chapters of this fic! This is where the conflict begins. I hope yall enjoy.
TW for this chapter: Homophobia, homophobic slurs
2020
The cake was in the fridge. We'd be seeing him later. For now, we settled for some spaghetti. It had become a sort of tradition for Jujubee and me for moments that needed celebrating. But we hadn't done it in so long, what with the stress of work.
"So, Juju, as you can see, I've labelled the pages you're allowed to read, so don't go looking at other shit, OK?" I asked, chopping up a red bell pepper.
"Why? If I do, am I gonna find some porn-y shit?" She quipped, running a hand along with the butterfly print book.
"Honestly, you know all of those details anyway." I gave her a smirk, taking a piece of pepper and throwing it over to her.
I almost expected it to fly past her head, but she caught it in her mouth. Skill.
"OK, but what's in the box, though?"
I almost forgot what she was even referring to. But following her gaze, I saw it, sitting on the kitchen counter beside the fridge. "Oh, that?" I scraped the peppers into the saucepan, "That is my memory box."
"Ooh, that's even more exciting." She beamed.
"No. We're not opening it." I moved on to an onion.
"Aw, why not?" Jujubee whined.
"Because I made my Mom promise me she wouldn't give it to me until I turned 50. But I was weak and begged her to give it back. So now, I've promised myself to not look inside until I turn 50." The air was no longer clean, poisoned with the acid from the onion. My eyes were beginning to sting.
"Aw, Brie, you don't need to get all emotional about it." She had to go and joke about the tear now trickling down my cheek.
"Girl, this is torture," I wipe my eye along my wrist, pretty sure my eyeshadow has been fucked up. "Did I fuck up the smokey eye?"
"Nope." I knew she was lying to me, but she couldn't take her eyes away, "You look absolutely gorgeous as usual."
"Not as hot as you, though." I sniffed. I needed her to focus on reading so I could finish chopping the onion as soon as possible. "Anyway, you wanna read something in there?"
Jujubee opened the book and immediately laughed, "Jesus Christ, Brie, bit dark."
She showed me the first page, childlike scribblings read 'Brianna's Diary. DO NOT TOUCH! Or this will happen to you!' An arrow led to a picture of a grave.
"I never even noticed that before," I chuckled.
"With a warning like that, I better find some crazy shit in here." she cleared her throat, "So starting in 1994, 'Diary Diary, Today, I had a fight with Jujubee. She really upset me, but I upset her too. I should say sorry. That's all. Bye.'" Jujubee lowered the diary, "you bitch, why did you upset me?"
"I have no idea, girl. I mean, didn't we do that a lot back then?" I shrugged.
"I bet you started it though," She lifted the book again, a coy smile on her face. "OK, moving on to 1995," she cleared her throat, "'Dear Diary, today Mommy and Juju's Mommy took us to see Pocahontas at the movies. It was very good. Goodnight.'" Jujubee paused to giggle, "God, I love how detailed this is. You could have added so much more."
"Girl, I was 8 years old. Writing more than 4 sentences was like writing the bible to me." I countered, finally scraping the onions into the pan with the peppers.
"Yeah, but we did so much more that day. We went to McDonald's after, we found that little frog pond in the woods." She pointed out.
I hadn't even remembered that. Now I kind of wished my younger self would have pushed herself to write more.
I was too busy rifling through my messy cabinet for oregano to notice Jujubee just flicking through page by page.
"But, you wrote 3 pages worth of poetry to Blair St Clair?"
Once I found the spice, I spun around to look at her, "Juju, I told you to only look at the pages that were labelled."
She held a hand up, "OK, I'm sorry." She closed the book.
I felt bad, thinking maybe my harsh tone brought the fun to a grinding halt. Squeezing my eyes shut, releasing a sigh, I said, "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
She took a sip of her water while I added the oregano to the saucepan.
"So, did you text her back?" She played with the glass in her hands.
I pursed my lips and shook my head. "Why? Do you think I should?" I asked quietly.
"Nah, not really."
"Well, why not?"
Jujubee shrugged her shoulders and went to look at her nails. "Don't know."
I clicked my heel, my tongue running along the top row of teeth behind my closed mouth. "Well, I've been thinking about it. I mean, maybe that's the problem. Maybe I could be a bit more responsive."
She made a humming sound. I was unsure what it was supposed to mean.
"OK, what's going on?" I put both hands on the counter.
"I don't know. I just think…" she paused, trying to find her words, "I don't see the point because the same shit will just happen again."
"The same shit?" I repeated, "what's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, her speaking all but 10 words to you and then completely ignoring your existence." She put a hand under her chin.
"Well, maybe that wouldn't happen if I actually spoke to her like I wasn't terrified for once," I suggested.
She squeezed her eyes together, "Oh no, Brie. I knew this was going to happen."
"What was going to happen?"
"The whole Blair thing. I thought you were over it. Well, until she messaged you recently, I had a creeping feeling that it was all gonna come back."
"Juju, listen to yourself. You're talking like this is an actual problem."
"I hate to say it, but it is. Do you remember the time she hung out with you in the library? You were so excited the next day. I hadn't seen you so happy in so long. You wouldn't stop talking about how she would probably be there again." She paused, "But she wasn't. And you were so disappointed."
"Yeah, but things could be different now."
"And how's that?"
"Well, I'm a different fucking person now, that's one thing. I'm successful, I'm smart, I'm hot as fuck, rich as fuck - -"
"And you think that's gonna be the game-changer for her? That she's gonna come running into your arms? Because if that's the case, that says a lot about her." Jujubee rolled her eyes.
"Well, I'm a big girl, now. If it happens again, I'll just get on with things. I'll move on.
"That's a lie."
I squinted my eyes. "Why are you being like this right now? You're so salty just because I fucked wrote a private letter to her as a child."
"This isn't about the letter, Brie. You know why I'm being like this. You shouldn't need to ask." But she continued, "You've never dealt with never having parents. You think that if Blair was to suddenly be truly interested in you, you'd get over the feeling of being unwanted. Yet you're surrounded by people who love and support you, who'd stick with you to the end. But right now, you don't give two fucks about them because you're too busy panicking about some girl from high school."
I lift my head again, putting one hand on the desk and the other on my hip, "Well, congratulations, Juju. Sounds like you got me all figured out. Hey, you wanna talk about my Grandpa next?"
She only reacted to that with a scowl. And she spoke again.
"You remember the prom? Do you remember what happened? Do you remember how she didn't do anything to stop Trevor?"
My eyes shifted away, just for a second. "She told him to stop."
"Which did nothing."
I wanted to argue how she was unfair. How it was so wrong to blame Blair for the prom incident. But I was distracted by a burning smell. Only now did I notice the onions and peppers blackening.
I quickly moved the saucepan off the heat, feeling it only radiating in my own face. I put a hand on the counter, the other on my hip. "OK, Juju, maybe you should leave."
It was safe to say Jujubee was taken aback. She remained still for a second before pushing her stool out. "So that's how it is? Kicking me out when you're faced with the truth?"
"Juju, just leave, please." I felt my hands clench around the edge of the counter, my nails digging into my hip.
"I am!" She grabbed her coat and stormed from the kitchen. I flinched upon hearing the door slam shut, and only then did it sink in - the dread, the feeling of regret.
I looked at the hob, the burnt vegetables unsavable. So they went in the trash. My stomach grumbled. But I couldn't bring myself to start over again.
Opening my fridge, my eyes were immediately on the cake. And I glanced over my shoulder, looking where she had sat, now feeling a sense of emptiness. Not in me, but the room. Like I was alone.
I was alone.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I repeated as my hand clenched on the door. The cool air from the fridge felt nice but not enough to stop my panic.
I looked at the cake again, feeling the urge to throw it out the window. Or maybe just send it back to her.
Bitchy, I know. But I couldn't help it. I wouldn't be feeling like this if she hadn't acted the way she did.
I slammed the door shut, kicking it for extra measure. And in my heels, I almost tripped.
Filled with more anger, I paced around for a few minutes, aggressively cussing to myself.
Don't get me wrong, one part of me said she was right about Blair.
No. She isn't. I was going to prove Jujubee wrong.
I picked up my phone from the counter, found the message and began to type with trembling fingers.
"Blair…" I panted, "So sorry...for getting back to you so late... I'm a busy woman, as you...probably already know...Look... I'm just gonna say it...I really like you...I always have...You make me feel so confused...yet so happy at the same time...I feel a connection between us...I always have...I don't know whether you ever felt it or not...but I do hope so...I would love to meet up with you sometime soon...and maybe have a coffee...I don't know...maybe even some wine, if you want. I look forward to hearing back. Brie x"
My thumb hovered over the send button. The only sound I could hear was the ticking of the clock. Not even my own breathing.
I pulled my thumb away, closed my eyes and breathed out. "Brie. You sound fucking crazy. You sound insane. You can't just send shit like that." I repeated words of the same nature to myself, trying to usher myself off the edge before I could do something idiotic.
"Jesus Christ." I opened my eyes again, which were now glossy with tears. I wouldn't blink. I wouldn't let them fall.
Big mistake.
I thought I tapped the chat bar, going to delete the message. But my blurred vision said, "haha, no."
I tapped the button next to the chat bar. The send button.
The little noise my phone made as it was sent may as well have been the same as a gun clicking.
"Oh, God." My eyes couldn't tear away from the small screen. My heart rate increased. "No, no, no, you fucking idiot!" I pressed my thumb down on the message.
There was a delete option.
I clicked it.
'Are you sure? The recipient may have already seen the message.'
I backspaced to check.
There it was, the tiny version of her profile picture falling to the bottom of the screen. She was reading it.
"Fuck!!" I blurted.
I put the phone down on the counter, began pacing for a moment, and looked back at the phone. This went on for a few minutes. I wanted to be as far from my phone as possible. But also needed to know if she had replied.
This was it.
Blair was going to know how I was weirdly obsessed with her.
She was going to know I was checking her out in the library that one time.
She was going to know that I had fingered myself so many times at the thought of her.
What were my options?
Suicide - Not gonna happen.
Running away - But the project.
Reply with 'Hey, sorry! My friend took my phone, haha' - did anyone ever believe that excuse?
Block her before she could reply - then she'd think I was even more crazy.
Call up her place of work and somehow get her phone confiscated - why, though? That would involve Facebook stalking her again, trying to think of an excuse. Even if I did so successfully, she still saw the message.
All of the options just lead to cons. It was hopeless.
With shaky fingers, I switched my phone off and practically threw it onto the counter.
My body sank to the ground, now holding my head in my hands.
What do I do? What do I fucking do?
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
2004
I was shaking. Only slightly.
There was something about the prom that made me feel so on edge.
Maybe it was all the people, all together in one room.
Perhaps it was the fact the chess boys asked to make out.
Or perhaps it was the fear of missed opportunities. Opportunities that involved a certain someone.
I watched from the side of the room as Blair took pictures with her friends on her pink digital camera. There was a feeling of regret causing my stomach to twist, my fists clenching onto my purple dress.
That could have been me.
I felt a hand moving a curled lock of hair from my shoulder.
"Just think, girl; we're almost there," Jujubee appeared in front of my vision, "College is just around the corner."
"I can't wait to be out of here," I spoke quietly.
Everyone turned their attention to the stage as Rosé appeared, announcing it was time to crown Prom King and Queen.
"Well, it's pretty obvious who our queen is." Jujubee crossed her arms.
I knew who she was thinking of. To be fair, it was pretty obvious. But I wasn't complaining.
Trevor was our Prom King, not my King anyway. I scoffed as he cheered, being pushed up to the stage by his team.
"Jesus Christ, who would have thought." Jujubee took a sip of her punch, spilling a drop on her lilac puffy-sleeved dress.
"And your Prom Queen is…" Rosé paused, pulling the result from the envelope.
3...2...1…
"Blair St Clair!"
I smiled for the first time since walking into the place. I applauded her victory as she walked up onto the stage.
Blair hugged Rosé and whispered something in her ear. I had no idea what it was, but I was too distracted as Trevor just stared.
"You wanna make a speech, girl?" Rosé joked into the mic.
Blair laughed, covering her face with embarrassment. She turned down the offer.
"OK. Everybody," Rosé held a hand to Blair and Trevor, "You're King and Queen of 2004."
Blair looked slightly uncomfortable as Trevor put an arm around her waist. Why couldn't he get the hint she was done with him?
The two got down from the stage, Trevor's gaze following her in confusion as she moved far away from him.
"Aren't they supposed to do a dance now?" Jujubee asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know, Juju. I've only seen proms in movies, and they're quite obviously exaggerated."
My eyes landed on Blair once more. Trevor was whispering something in her ear, and she shook her head, rolled her eyes and walked away. Yikes, he was desperate.
"Jesus, I'm fucking nervous." Rosé was approaching us now, well, the punch table we stood beside. "Getting up on stage gets my body shaking, you know?"
"Wish I could do that." Jujubee replied.
"Yeah, well, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do." Rosé replied.
I eyed her suspiciously. This was odd; she'd never really spoken to us before.
"But of course," she looked left, then right, before pulling a flask from her bra and pouring it into a cup, "this helps. You ladies want one?"
"Nah, I'm good," Jujubee made a stank face.
Me, on the other hand, having never drank alcohol in my life, piped up, "Actually, yeah. Could you just pour me a shot of whatever that is?"
"Yeah, of course," and she didn't lie. She poured me a shot of vodka. No spitting in the cup, no adding anything sneakily, no hostility.
She passed the cup to me, giving a mischievous wink.
Tossing it back, I was totally shocked by the burning sensation it caused to my throat. I began to cough and splutter.
"Girl, chill out, or you're gonna draw attention to yourself." Rosé looked around.
I placed the cup down on the table, the plastic practically crumbling in my hand.
"This is it. The beginning," Jujubee joked, dabbing the corner of my mouth with her pinky. I didn't even know there was a drop of liquid there.
And I didn't know there was a hair out of place either. Because she was stroking a soft hand down my temple to my cheek.
"Brie, do - -"
"Juju, I'm gonna ask her to dance with me," I said all too loud.
The hand dropped instantaneously, her smile falling in a matter of seconds. Of course, I expected this shocked reaction. Even Rosé had nearly choked on her drink.
"For real?" Jujubee asked after a silent moment.
"Yep," I answered proudly, putting my hands on my hips.
"I guess you've never touched a drop of alcohol in your life, loser." Rosé leaned close to me.
"Something like that." I felt slightly uncomfortable now that she was dangerously close to me.
She snorted a laugh, holding up her hands as she walked away, "I'm not responsible for this."
So this was what they called liquid courage. Yeah, it was one shot, but it was my very first. And I was already feeling it. The buzz.
I turned to make my way to the girl I loved when Jujubee grabbed my hand, "Brie, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Yes," I replied too quickly, tugging to pull away.
"Are you sure?" Her brows knit, "You're not gonna be upset if she says no, right?"
One final strong tug was enough to release her grip on me, "No, Juju. I'll be fine, just...stop questioning me, OK?"
She was silent, her arms dropping by her side.
But I continued on in my mission, vision slightly blurred, insides warmed.
Everyone around us was gone like they had just stepped into another world, leaving Blair and me in this reality. Or maybe it was the two of us who disappeared, somehow falling into the wormhole and ending up in the other world.
Or maybe it was just liquid courage.
There were only a few metres between us now. "Blair?"
She had been taking a sip of her coke when she looked up and noticed me. Wiping the corners of her mouth, she put the can down.
"Brianna!" She beamed. Her eyes looked me up and down, causing a brief moment of panic, "wow, look at you. You look great."
"Yeah, right, compared to you." I stifled a laugh.
"Oh, shut up." She smirked.
"So, um…" I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, looking away and to the ground, "I was just...wondering...if you'd wanna dance with me?"
I didn't lift my gaze. Only now did I understand what Jujubee meant. The girl hadn't even said no yet, and my heart was already sinking.
"It's just...this song is so good, and it's the end of the year, and we may not - -"
Before I could continue rambling, she cut me off.
"Sure. Yeah, I'll dance with you."
I lift my gaze to see her glittering smile. Like in the library, time didn't feel real anymore, and I needed to remind myself to breathe. "Really?"
"Yeah, of course." She briefly knit her brows like it shouldn't have been questioned. She took my hand in her perfect french manicured one, "Come on."
As we made our way to the dance floor, I was only now reminded that there were people here. So, we didn't slip through a wormhole. This was real. This was reality.
Blair found a spot on the floor, turned to me and wrapped her arms around the back of my neck.
For a moment, I was unsure of where to put my hands. I glanced over her shoulder, noting the couple also slow dancing. She has her arms around his neck. He had his arms around her waist.
I was hesitant at first but eventually gave in. Blair didn't mind. And I felt myself relax.
She just stared at me, the sweet smile still on her face. The music echoed around us. The lights were low. Pink tinted.
"So, how does it feel winning Prom Queen?" I asked. Of course, it felt amazing for her, but I needed to find an excuse to speak. Anything to avoid the somersaults my stomach was doing.
"I mean, it's nice, I guess. But, it's all bullshit anyway?" Her smile faltered, "Not something anyone in the future will give a fuck about, right?"
I disagreed. If I were to win prom queen, I would feel validated. And I would make sure I'd bring it up to everyone I ever met. Pathetic, I know.
"Well, I can't think of anybody better," I admitted. "Maybe they could have chosen a better King."
"Agreed." She nodded. "You know, literally just now, he tried to use this whole King and Queen thing to 'try again'. Not even that long before you came up to me. Brianna, I've already given him another chance. And he blew it."
"During the Summer?" I recalled.
"Yep." She pursed her lips.
"What did he do, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh, he just had some major anger problems," her eyes widened for a moment, "He never hurt me, though. He just...got so angry over the dumbest shit. It was just too much."
She puffed out a breath, the frown on her face appearing.
"You don't have to tell me any more," I said quickly.
"Sorry, I don't wanna get emotional." She looked back at me. "It's just... it's hard not to. You're a good listener."
How should I have felt knowing that was her analysis of me from very little time spent together? She really trusted me. "Blair... I'm sorry about that time in the library. When you mentioned my Grandpa. I feel terrible now."
"Please, don't. You were grieving."
'Was I really though?' I held back from saying.
"I never really had a Dad," I smiled, seeing his stupid smile in my head, "But he was the closest equivalent to that."
"I know what you mean." She began, "My Dad…" she trailed off for a moment, "He wasn't the best. You probably remember that one time I ran away as a kid. When you walked me to my Grandma's."
I wasn't even tense in the first place, but my body felt like it relaxed. "You remember that?"
"Of course I do. It really meant a lot, Brie." Her thumb stroked the back of my neck. I don't know if she did this intentionally or subconsciously. Was she even thinking about it? "That day, I never went back. Ever. My Grandparents took full custody of me, and they became my second parents. The ones I always deserved."
I felt my body relax even more like this was normal. "Blair, I wanna carry on something my Grandpa started."
"What's that?"
"It sounds crazy," I pause, "But he wants me to find a parallel universe."
I paused to take in her reaction. She did look taken aback for a moment. Could you blame her? "Is it even possible?"
"I mean, at first I thought he was a bit out there asking me something like that, on his deathbed and all. But I've been studying really hard, and I think it's achievable."
"That's interesting." She nodded. "So, what are you gonna do at college?"
"Drugs." I giggled before the smile dropped, "OK, not funny. Bad joke."
"I'm laughing, though." She was.
"Um, no. I'm gonna do Astronomy and Space science."
"I didn't know that was a major you could do," Blair replied.
"Me neither. What about you, though? Something in theatre?"
Blair lowered her gaze for a brief moment, "I dunno, Brie. I honestly don't see college as a me-thing. I'm constantly torn between theatre, fashion merchandising, cosmetology, politics..."
"Politics?" I laughed and instantly hoped she didn't take offence to that.
"What?" She smirked. "What's funny?"
"I just…" I paused, feeling my heart skip a beat as a particular memory came back. "This is crazy. I can't believe I remember this. All I can think about right now is the day we met. Remember the first day of elementary? On the bus? I told you I wanted to be a politician when I was older, just 'cause they liked to shout a lot. And you couldn't say the word right."
"Oh fuck, now that you mention it, I do remember." Blair laughed, "That was such a long time ago. We were so little." She looked away as if her mind had transported her to that moment. Did she remember it like I did? Did she remember how she held my hand and told me she was my friend?
And then never sat with me ever again?
My eyes had drifted away, looking over her shoulder at nothing in particular. The bad thoughts were taking over. I didn't want them to. I wanted to enjoy this moment forever. Just swaying back and forth with Blair in the middle of the dance floor.
She stroked her thumb on the back of my neck again, causing a spark to course through me.
Blair's looking at me again. "Brianna, how come we never talked more?"
I don't know if it was just me fantasising again, but her face was moving closer to mine, ever so slowly.
I had the answer to her question. But it couldn't ruin this moment. "I don't know," I whispered.
She was closer now, head tilted to the left.
And I found myself doing the same.
This was another fantasy. This isn't real.
I felt her breath on the corner of my mouth.
It felt real.
It was.
There was a frustrated roar.
A tight fist clenched around my arm.
I was pulled back forcefully.
My feet gave way.
I was on the ground.
"Are you kidding me??" Trevor stood in front of Blair, his face red with anger, "You won't fucking dance with me, but you'll dance with her??"
Everyone around us was just standing there, too shocked to do something.
"Trevor, what the fuck??" Blair went to move around him, trying to get to me. He only pushed her back.
"Of all the people, why her??" He grilled Blair with more questions. She looked afraid now.
Why the fuck wasn't anyone doing anything??
I felt a hand on my shoulder, but looking around, I saw it was actually Rosé. "Trevor, what the fuck??"
He turned to look as if offended that anyone else got involved. How could they not? Seeing her helping me stand must hit a nerve. Because he's snatched a cup of punch from a bystander, "Why are you defending the dyke??" And he threw the cup forward, the liquid drenching my hair and splattering my dress.
That was the final straw. I could feel my chest heaving.
I ran to the nearest exit. Running from the school. As soon as I felt the cool air on my skin, I wrapped my arms around my stomach. I was bent over, throwing up all the panic. Sparks of the bile dotted the bottom of my dress and shoes. I didn't care. My dress was already ruined.
I heard the door open behind me and immediately began to move again.
I tried to run, but the heels made it hard.
The person was in front of me now, hands on my face, tears streaking her face.
I expected it to be Blair.
But it was Jujubee.
"Brie, it's alright. I punched him for you." She whimpered, her hands on either side of my face, holding me tenderly.
My breathing was rugged, trying so hard to listen to her reassuring whispers. But in my head was the sound of the crowd gasping and Trevor shouting.
No one was going to forget about this. I'd be reminded by the stares in the corridors, how they'd whisper to each other.
"Let's go to my house. You can stay over if you want." Jujubee's sweet voice brought me out of my thoughts.
Words still failing to surface, I nodded.
As soon as we got in, she ran me a hot bath. Whilst I cleaned myself of the sticky punch that covered my hair and face, she made chocolate mug cakes with ice cream.
Sitting there in her room, dressed in her fluffy pyjamas, eating her food, I should have felt better. I should have been happy. But I just stared at the mug in my hand, still thinking of Trevor's anger and Blair's distressed face.
Jujubee took the mug from me, set it aside along with her own, and enveloped me in a hug. "Don't cry, Bri. Please, don't cry."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was crying." I wept.
"Don't apologise." She shushed me, "It's OK. You're OK."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
2020
And even now, I didn't realise I was crying again. And as it was too late to stop myself, I remembered sobbing into Jujubee's shoulder, holding her tightly, like she was the only one who could get me through it. She was the only one who could get me through it.
The events of the prom left me scared, always so on edge when walking those school corridors. Just terrified that Trevor would round the corner and do something worse.
But Jujubee was there for me every time. She'd hold my hand, not giving a fuck about who looked at us weird.
I know I should have grown a backbone and defended myself, and what had actually happened shouldn't have been as damaging as it was. But, hey, I was only human.
Jujubee got in a lot of trouble for punching Trevor in the face. But she didn't mind. "Just as long as he got what was coming to him," she had said.
Hearing her retell the event, I wish I had been there. She had jumped on him, tackling him to the ground and punched him over and over again.
But as exciting as that all was, I didn't speak to Blair again. I didn't think about her. I didn't talk about her. I didn't even look at her. Blair wasn't the one to come after me that night. She never even approached me to talk about it. She didn't give a fuck.
So I kept my distance.
And just as life went on without her, she just had to go and message me. After years of silence, she couldn't have left well enough alone.
I finally lifted my head. I reached up and grabbed my phone. Turning it back on, I immediately deleted Messenger, hoping to never see Blair's response.
This would be the beginning of my journey toward happiness.
Yeah. That was it. That's what I would do.
#rpdr fanfiction#s10#as5#miz cracker#jujubee#blair st clair#blair x cracker#coming of age#hurt/comfort#lesbian au#high school au#angst#gimme love#grinder#tw homophobic slurs#tw homophobia
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The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)
A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
__________
Chapter 5: Adore You
If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"
"Yes," you giggled. "I do."
It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.
"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."
But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."
Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.
However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"
This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"
"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"
You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?
"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."
"And y-you would be my wife today?"
"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."
"But what about a-a…"
"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."
It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."
You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."
Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.
Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.
When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."
"It sure is."
With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."
Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"
"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"
With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."
______________
At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.
Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.
If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.
And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."
His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.
Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"
Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."
"You flirt."
You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."
"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."
You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"
Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."
______
He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.
Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”
"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."
You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."
Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.
_________
By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.
You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.
In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.
In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.
The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"
"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"
"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."
He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"
"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."
This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"
"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."
Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."
Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"
"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."
It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"
"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."
When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."
He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."
"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."
Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."
"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."
"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"
"Mhm."
"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"
"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."
"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"
Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"
Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."
"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."
"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."
"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."
"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."
"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."
Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”
At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”
And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."
"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."
Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."
"It is."
Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"
Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."
You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.
So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."
Fin
#doofus rick#doofus rick x reader#rick sanchez x reader#J19ζ7#j19z7#rick j19z7#Rick and morty#Rnm#rnm fanfic#rnm fanfiction#rick and morty fanfiction#rick and morty fanfic#multi chapter#marriage#my fanfiction#my works#my writing#fanfiction#my fanfic
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I hope this question isn't too stupid, but you're one of my favorite writing blogs so I'll give it a shot. I want to write a FanFic based on the 1971 version of Willy Wonka. I wanted the story to tell Violet Beauregarde's story, the one that turns into a blueberry. However, I have SOME questions as I'm fairly new to FanFic. 1). Am I better off focusing on each kid's perspective, going back and forth? Or is it good to narrow my focus one one character? 2). Can I give them a character arch, li
(2/3) like Violet's really mean in school but she becomes kind after her experience at the factory. Is that too cliche or predictable? 3). Why does she try waddling away after her blueberry transformation and the Oompa Loompas are singing/dancing around her? They're trying to help her, and I don't really get why she'd do something like that. 4). What are tips to better understand the characters I want to flesh out? I guess it circles back to the last question, understanding their psyche. Yikes
(3/3) Yikes! Super sorry this ask is long. And I'm even more sorry if my questions were lame or you've covered them before. :P. I can overthink at times, ESPECIALLY when it comes to my writing. I'm such a perfectionist storyteller, it's not even funny. I hope my questions aren't bothering you. You're one of my favorite writing blogs, so I figured I could come to you. I apologize in advance for wasting your time. You DO NOT have to reply at all if you don't want to. :P Thanks, have a great week
First and foremost: this is not a stupid question, you are not wasting my time at all. This is actually a rare treat for my blog because I don’t get many asks that don’t involve blindness, though I usually know better how to answer those than I do other questions. So, here we go:
Are you better off focusing on each kid’s perspective, going back and forth? Or is it better to narrow your focus onto one character?
The general rule of writing is to simplify. If two background characters serve a similar purpose, just combine the characters, for example. Slimming down extra scenes that don’t contribute to plot or character development.
However, that advice is meant for people publishing novels, working within an overflowing industry, dependant on sales and royalties. They have to meet whatever industry standards are, like word count or POV types. They have to find someone willing to take them on as a client because they love that book.
Fanfiction is not bound by such nonsense. Fanfiction is a beautifully lawless land where capitalism cannot influence it. What defines what you do with fanfiction is if you enjoy reading it, and if you have the steam to continue a long project.
Some people easily write 200,000k fics within a matter of weeks or months (or in my case, just once, two years). Some people work best with short fics. Both (and everything in between) are wonderful.
So, how much steam do you have for this project? How long do you think you can carry it and still finish it? Because that defines how big you should plan to make this project. If you don’t think you can write a long fic, then maybe just stick to one character.
A compromise between the two is to focus primarily on one character, and examine the other characters more briefly. This could be done in just a single POV chapter, or a handful. This could be done with the characters connecting and seeing the side character through your main character’s eyes, seeing how they’ve changed.
There’s no wrong answer. This fic is for your enjoyment primarily. No matter what you write, it will appeal to at least a few people, if not crowds. But your fun comes first, both literally and figuratively. Write for you, write to explore the story for yourself.
Can you give them a character arc like Violet’s where she becomes kinder after her experiences in the factory? Is that too cliche or predictable?
I wouldn’t call it predictable, because I’d expect everyone to go into completely different directions because they were all such unique and individual people before they entered the factory, and they were foiled by their own quirks.
Violet was mean and fake, she was demanding. I don’t know how much I want to speculate on the plotline you have going for her, how you’ll develop her to make her want to be more kind.
But I would love to speculate on the others.
Agustus Gloop?
I feel like his experience in the chocolate river and almost drowning would make it hard to enjoy chocolate ever again. I think it would be a long time before he had any sweets. Also, because of his weight, I imagine there’s got to be some body-image issues hiding under the surface. I’d also put money on him being bullied, and him acting out against the students who bully him and because of his size he is more intimidating, but that doesn’t stop people from saying things behind his back.
I imagine the chocolate thing is a form of self-comfort. Maybe he turns to other foods to over-eat with to cope. Maybe eventually he figures out that this isn’t helping him. Does he try to replace unhealthy foods with healthier ones? (idk, I have a personal turn off on getting into the concept of dieting, so I’m not going to dig in much there).
I’d like to see him learn to love himself, develop some body neutrality, that his body doesn’t define who he is or what his worth is. That he becomes okay with who he is as he grows up. People who are happy and comfortable with themselves are generally nicer and easier going than people who aren’t. Maybe with some self-love, he’ll be kinder to others.
Veruca Salt?
Okay, I have a confession. My brain thought of her when discussing Violet. I haven’t seen either of the films in years.
Well, let’s thank Wikipedia everyone, the greatest gift of the internet.
Veruca does come across as a spoiled brat. Her parents shower her in material objects, which might mean something. I have a close friend who hates people buying things for him or giving him gifts that cost money. This has to do with a parent buying him things out of guilt after episodes of emotional abuse. I asked him a while back what he wanted for his birthday (I meant baked goods, I bake or cook special meals as birthday gifts for my friends. A has asked for chocolate chip cookies for three birthdays in a row now. Several friends ask for cookies for Christmas). Anyway, my friend had a panic attack and couldn’t respond until an hour later.
Maybe there’s something to that.
What does she think about money as she grows up? Does her love language continue to be gifts? I think it might one day be quality time. Maybe it is now. It’s common for rich parents to be absent and barely spend time with their kids because of work and extravagant social lives that sort of money gives them access to, meaning they barely have time in the day to spend with their kids. Maybe gifts are the only way she can make sure her parents still care, the only way she can get their attention?
Mike Teavee?
Apparently in the movie credits his last name is spelled Teevee. But I’m obsessed with tea (and this is the point where I remember my tea and wonder if I’ve let it go cold because I got too focused. Nope, it’s still there). So it’s Teavee here.
Wikipedia describes him as a young boy who only watches TV, nothing but TV. He’s especially interested in cowboys and Western films. He comes across as a know-it-all. He’s easily annoyed but gets along with others.
Anyone have a guess at where I’m going with this?
Mike is neurodivergent. I mean, that’s my new headcanon. I lean towards ADHD because that’s what I project, but like everything else, his interpretation is in the eye of the beholder. Every viewer sees something different in him.
Some common ADHD (and autism) experiences beyond having a specific interest is how others react to your special interest. You get used to people getting bored when you talk about your interest for the thousandth time, but it’s still important to you, but not to someone whose opinion matters to you. RSD is probably common.
Wikipedia says he’s described as lazy in the books? Common ADHD “symptom,” or rather something that outside viewers label as laziness. Really, he just doesn’t have the motivation to do any of those other things.
And Charlie?
Did anyone think I wouldn’t have any thoughts on Charlie, our hero and protagonist?
Oh no, I have thoughts. Charlie goes to great lengths to set his family up comfortably, he becomes generous with his money. He also knows nothing about running a factory. I’m hoping Willy Wonka gives him some help there. But I bet adult Charlie is a stressed-out workaholic who tries to do everything and thinks he has something to prove, that he’s not just some random lucky child, that he can do this. Charlie totally gets a work-related anxiety disorder.
Those are my thoughts. I still think giving them Violet’s arc isn’t cliche or predictable, but rather completely different from what you think would happen to all those kids.
I mean, maybe a few of them are still little jerks in their adult lives. There’s no one road to grow up on, even if you’re four strangers who shared a similar traumatic experience.
Why does she try waddling away after her blueberry transformation and the Oompa Loompas are singing/dancing around her? They're trying to help her, and I don't really get why she'd do something like that.
They strange looking short men she’s literally never talked to, never seen or heard of before today, who’s already taken away two children by this point, all while singing a song about what terrible children they were.
And she’s scared because her body is doing something strange and scary and awful. She’s scared. She doesn’t know what to do. What will happen if these strange men take her away? She doesn’t know what happened to the other kids.
And they’re not really communicating they want to help, just singing cheerfully about how awful children are.
What are tips to better understand the characters I want to flesh out? I guess it circles back to the last question, understanding their psyche.
A lot of it is just watching real-life people and wondering why they are the way they are. Listening to their reasoning and what they tell you about who they are and where they come from.
I know people who grew up like Agustus with using over-eating as a way to self-comfort, and the bullying they experienced. I know that if a kid was physically bigger than his bullies, maybe he’d fight them to make them stop and leave him alone. People who go through that journey of learning that their body doesn’t define who they are, accepting it because it is theirs and it takes care of them.
(Which reminds me of a post I like that pops around here and there, that positive body image should be about more than how “sexy” your curves make you look. A person shouldn’t have to be sexy to be treated like a person. A person shouldn’t have to be sexy at all if they don’t want to, especially not all the time, and especially not a child. And there are a lot of obese children in the world who don’t have any positive body image messages designed for them)
I learned what my friend’s love languages are and why they have them and what they mean. Which is why I have that theory for Veruca.
Mike is just self-projection and listening to other neurodivergent people when they describe their life experiences or listening to their theories when they say a character is neurodivergent too.
I won’t lie, my theory on Charlie is based entirely on the Avatar: the Last Airbender fandom’s common head-canon that Zuko becomes a workaholic after he becomes Firelord. There might be some canon material in the comics that supports that, but I’ve never seen it. I think Zuko and Charlie have a similar vibe and that those three years Zuko struggled, and Charlie’s entire life before the factory make them both feel like they need to be perfect and do everything right to prove they deserve the job they’re given and that their backgrounds don’t define their worth.
Thank you so much for your ask anon!
And again, you are not a bother. I enjoyed digging into this movie I’d never thought in depth about until tonight. And you’re not alone, lots of writers are overthinkers and perfectionists. You are in good company. Our writing and fanfiction community welcomes and loves you <3
And thank you for your kind words! I’m so happy that you love my blog so much <3 It made my day to read that
Take care anon, and good luck in your writing :)
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Fame - Angus Cloud (4)
Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.
Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4 {reading now}
-
“Fuck right there- Oh my god please-” You moaned holding his hair. “You never had anyone eat your pussy like this before right?” he said eating deeper as you moaned and squirmed. “Only you baby, this pussy is only you-”
“Yo wake the fuck up, you making weird noises and shit.”
You sat up taking in a deep breath and inspected your surroundings. There stood a worried Angus with a mug in his hand. “I'm fine...” you said quite unconvincingly.
“You sure? I went to make you some tea and came back to you rolling around and groaning and shit, thought that strange netflix monster had come to you or sum.”
“The demogorgan-”
“Yeah that shit!” He sat next to you on the edge of the bed. “Nightmare?” he asked softly as he handed you the tea.
“Well not exactly...” You took the warm mug and took in a long swig of the warm goodness. It's not like you were just going to openly tell him ‘Oh no, I just had a dream about you eating me out and I loved every second of it.’ “Actually yeah, a nightmare.” you lied.
“I hate those, what was yours about?”
“I...a monster ate me alive and I couldn't stop it.”
Angus shook his head. “Damn mamas, I’m sorry. Those suck, I know its like 2 pm, but let’s eat some breakfast and try to forget about it.”
You nodded standing up and stretching “Thanks...for the tea.”
“Of course, don’t girls love tea? Ion know, I don't really be sleeping with girls that often.” He chuckled walking into the small kitchen.
“Tea is amazing!” You exclaimed, following him and sitting on the counter. “I love tea in all seasons, it has so many benefits.”
“Yeah? What’s some of them benefits.”
“Well green tea has amazing antioxidants, and is a more naturally caffeinated drink than coffee- with not as many negative results. But don't get me wrong, I really do love my coffee- anyway! Tea can help straighten and strengthen bones, brighten your smile, and help you lose weight!!”
“Oh wow.” He laughed “I didn't even care about all that tea shit, just wanted to hear your voice. But it was actually kinda interesting.”
“Yeah- and don't worry about a lack of my voice, I never shut up.”
“You right about that; but before you get all defensive, its aight. I like hearing you blab off about random stuff ion care about.”
You felt your face grow hot as you stifled a giggle that wanted to come out. “Thank you. I think I talk too much, but hey, can't really stop it y’know?” Angus nodded as he cracked 5 eggs into a pan. “You just be going off about stuff- actually you was sleep talking a little bit.”
Fuck.
“Yeah? What was I saying?” you asked innocently, hoping he didn't say what he was most definitely about to say.
“Well it was when you had that nightmare. Was the monster a cow or sum? Cuz you kept saying ‘Angus’ so like.” He turned to look at you “I figure it wasn’t me, but it was probably like...some beef monster.”
“Oh yeah, for sure a beef monster.”
“And that beef monster was eating you huh?”
You smoothly tucked your hair behind your ear and nodded with a sweet smile “Mhm.”
Angus gave you a quick up and down look before turning around and continuing to scramble the eggs. You had to change the current topic or you'd die of embarrassment, so you decided to bring up the topic of the show instead. “Do you know which scenes we’re filming tomorrow?”
“Yeah, no sex scenes until next week. Tomorrow they finna do you coming back and me reminiscing on the old times.”
“Okay cool. I have those lines down, pretty simple...” You mumbled.
“Yeah me too.”
A butcher knife couldn't even cut the tension in the room right now. Fuck, a chainsaw couldn't either.
“So like... I’m gonna go change and I'll be right back? Sound good?”
“You can wear summa my stuff. If you want- you don’t got to i'm just offering.”
“Oh that'd be great thanks! You know my trailer is just so far away!” You joked, knowing that it was only next door. You hopped off of the counter and followed him back into the room you two had just come out of.
“You just want one big shirt? Girls be doing that alot nowadays.”
“Yeah, thanks that'd be great...”
“So the biggest shirt I got got some barbecue stains on it- ignore it. I just went off on some spicy wings the other day-”
You burst out laughing and sat on the bed “Gus it’s fine, gimme!” You pulled your shirt off and held out your hands. He turned back around to find you only in your bra and shorts.
“Yooooo-”
“Its fine, we have to be completely naked with each other next week. Titties are just titties.” You took the shirt out of his hands and put it on. After pulling off the shorts that you wore underneath the shirt; that was more like a dress- and folding them, you walked back into the kitchen and reclaimed your spot on the counter.
“Well I know one problem we won't have!” You stated with a smirk.
“Yeah, and what's that?”
“Drake was worried you wouldn't be able to ‘get it up’...but honestly, I don’t think it'll be too hard.”
“Why you think that?”
“Look down.”
Sure, Angus wouldn't let you live down the wet dream you had about him for quite a while, but you'd never let him live down the boner he got- just from seeing you in a bra.
+
“So. Let's get to the real real.” Storm said pulling her knees up to her chest with a grin. “What the hell is going on with you and Angus?”
You, Storm and Daya were hanging in your trailer. You three were the only girls that didn't have scenes to film right now, Alexia, Barbie and the rest of the female cast were shooting night scenes. They had helped you set up the place to seem more homey, and now the newly formed trio you were a part of was in your bed with microwave popcorn, juicy juice, and twizzlers.
“Nothing Storm! Actually nothing I-”
“Nope, don't do that.” Z quickly cut you off. “Everyone can see it, it’s like what everyone on set talks about.”
“What?-”
“Plus, he talks about you too much, and you do the same with him! Earlier I said I wanted to pop some microwave popcorn and you started telling me about some conspiracy he told you about popcorn and microwaves, how they’re a secret way in for the government- like girl! Don't tell me you're so whipped that you're out here believing this stuff!”
“OKAY! Okay! I get it...look Gus is-”
“Gus?! You call him Gus?”
“Yeah?-”
“He literally hates that nickname with a passion. He gotta love you.” Storm chuckled grabbing a handful of popcorn.
“Okay well Angus is cute. He’s sweet and funny and caring- BUT. I won’t let anything happen between us, it’s like...business. This field is acting- and I don't think it would be good for us to do anything more, especially during filming.”
Z sighed. “Falling for your costars is weird.”
“Yeah.” Storm chimed in. “Our girl Daya been there and done that...but it never really affected her acting. She's so talented that she could keep it hidden off screen and focus on her character. I mean I know you talented Y/N...but you not my big sis like Z, so I don't really know how you'd be able to deal with it yet. Drake already seemed a bit iffy about it because he could tell you two had a little something going, but the thing comforting him is y'all are talented. So he knows you can do it- I know you can too.”
“Yeah he sent us a letter about it...it's just hard. I can't lose this role, I've come so far.”
“I don't think you’ll lose it. I think you'll be fine. Just keep a business mindset when on set. What goes on off screen and behind closed doors is your business, girl. Drake or nobody can stop that- Jesus can't even stop that!”
You and Storm giggled at Zendaya’s last comment. “Yeah yeah yeah...okay I get it guys. I got this- period.”
“Period.”
“Period...So were you one of those girls that watched all the Fez scene compilations on Youtube and drooled?” Storm teased you.
“No!” You said firmly, knowing you were lying.
“Oh she definitely was.”
“I wasn't!”
“I just don't see it! Angus is just not attractive to me, he looks like one of those guys that stop you at the gas station with a ghetto ass group of friends- he rubs his hands together and then screams ‘Hey baby lemme get yo numbaaaa!!!!’“
In response, you practically fell over laughing “Stoppp no!”
The rest of the night was filled with giggles and whispers, and by 1 AM, you, Z, and Storm were all huddled up in your little twin trailer bed. They snored softly but you couldn't seem to sleep. Just as you were .1 seconds away from drifting off, your phone buzzed next to you.
Angus☁️: u uppppp
-oh wow yeah that's not the most fboy thing ever to send at 1:27 am
Angus☁️: see all you had to say was yes you didn't have to do allat
-can i help you mr cloud
Angus☁️: what typa help you offering?
-whatever help you need.
Angus☁️: you finna have some more beef dreams tonight?
-you finna get a boner if you see me in my bra again?
Angus☁️: maybe.
-then i'll say maybe too.
Angus☁️: you're too much
-i know i am, did you film today?
Angus☁️: ye i had some scenes wit jacob
-wit
Angus☁️: leave me alone
-you texted me
-and wow you sound really mature rn not at all like a five year old
Angus☁️: if i was w you rn id make you regret that
-was that supposed to be a threat or a way to try to make me sext
Angus☁️: both
-you should go text all the hoes you have waiting for you at home
Angus☁️: im texting them at the same time
-boy...
Angus☁️: im plAyin
Angus☁️: only you :)
-getting soft???
Angus☁️: no and i wish this was instagram dms so i could unsend it fuck
-fuck
Angus☁️: thats another thing you was saying during your ‘nightmare’
-STOP NO I WAS NOT
Angus☁️: yeah i know you wasnt lmao i just like messing w you
-you can mess w me whenever you want to
Angus☁️: oh bet????
-goodnight angus
Angus☁️: nah i want you to tell me about me messing w you
Angus☁️: damn you really left
Angus☁️: thats wrong
Angus☁️: doing me dirty
-GTS MY PHONE KEEPS GOING OFF
Angus☁️: then put it on silent?
-NO
Angus☁️: ill stop being annoying if you come over here
-i cant, im w z and storm too
Angus☁️: shit okay well it was worth a shot
-why, what was you planning to do
Angus☁️: cuddle
-its fr time for you to go bed, i think your sleepiness is making you too soft and taking the hood away
Angus☁️: goodnight
-goodnight
Angus☁️: gn
-gn
Angus☁️: night
-night
Angus☁️: GOODNIGHT
-OKAY GN
Angus☁️: STOP REPLYING
Angus☁️: night
-
taglist:
@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins
#euphoria#angus cloud#fez euphoria#fezco euphoria#hbo euphoria#angus cloud fic#fezco imagine#fezco x reader#fezco fluff#fezco fic
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