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#it's my main that seems to be the problem as that's who I reply as
ryuichirou · 2 days
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I’ll start with some news.
I am currently locked out of my twitter account. We did everything we could to try to get it back, but no matter what happens, it will most likely take some time.
I don’t like bringing attention to this kind of stuff because we have tons of other things to talk about which are more important than some toddlers trying to obliterate us for 1000th time (frankly I would rather talk about the colour of Leona’s butthole), but this time it’s kind of serious and important. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but for now I wanted to say that if we won’t get the account back in time or will lose it indefinitely, we will have to ask for your help. I am sorry for that in advance.
Also, if you were discussing/working on commissions with me via DMs there, please email me or contact me via any other platform as soon as possible. Just in case.
Mass-reporting is wild, eh?
I am rambling a bit, and I didn’t really want to complain, because I know for a fact it would give satisfaction to some people, but you know? I am going to complain: it sucks ass. It happened at the worst time possible and it happened over nothing (literally, the art that got it was a Todd/Wallace non-sexual piece that got too many likes for children’s liking). I don’t care if people don’t like us, I don’t care if they gossip with their girlies about us, all I want is for them to leave us the fuck alone and let us do our thing in peace. Imagine being so unbelievably boring and so incredibly unlikeable and unable to make meaningful connections not only with other people but also with any kind of media that you just have to go out of your way to ruin things for others because this is the only thing that makes your immature brain produce something that even remotely resembles joy. Because your own pathetic self is so deeply insecure and constantly frustrated at yourself that you just have to create an illusion of control over someone else to feel important. I can’t even call it a troll behavior – at least trolls are funny sometimes. This is just someone who hit a midlife crisis at the age of 16 and made it my problem for some reason.  
And yet, it’s okay. Even if we end up losing our account, it’ll be a huge disappointment and it will hurt us tremendously, it already did. And it’s scary to think about this scenario, and it’s difficult to talk about how, if it happens, that it’s going to be okay. But eventually we’ll get over it and build ourselves up again, just like we did before several times. And these clowns will still be boring, unlikeable, lonely and very likely shit at drawing.
So yeah. Take care of yourself and block everyone who seems suspicious on sight. It’s not a panacea, but certainly is helpful.
Alright, time to talk about Leona’s butthole (not really, but we will talk about SebeMal, and it’s even better) 💪
Anonymous asked:
Seeing Vanitas made me curious about something: did you ever read Pandora Hearts? I think for a lot of people that series went hand in hand with Black Butler as the main "victorian aesthetic mangas" from the late '00/early '10. Gothic lolitas really had it all back then..
Ohh you’re so right Anon, it was the ultimate late ‘00/early ’10 aesthetic! Boys in vests with bows/ties, crosses and rosaries and traumatic and problematic backstories lol I really miss it sometimes. What an era.
I personally haven’t read/watched Pandora Hearts, but Katsu did! But it was even before we met… So my only association with this title is that Katsu’s old username was “ozbezariusnya” 🥰 Oh, and that Gilbert (?) looks very cute, but let’s be honest, of course I would think he is cute.
nebula-ryuu asked:
Regarding my question, I mean if the Malleus and Sebek ship has a dynamic or a context 😅😅 a background or a story. I have a certain feeling about what it is like but I don't want to affirm anything hehe
I don't know if I made what I said better understood, in any case I can explain it again, no problem 🙏
Oh! Thank you for clarifying!
As for our background for shipping them, we just really really love loyal characters that are a bit unhinged about their loyalty and love/obsession. So we didn’t even have a choice, they stole our hearts… and Malleus is very interesting in his interactions with Sebek too; he is annoyed by him sometimes, but he tolerates a lot and teases him.
As for the ship itself, we tend to think that in addition to Sebek being loyal and obsessive with Malleus, he is also deeply in love with him ever since he was a child. He is conflicted because he really wants to be his lover, but also thinks that he isn’t worthy. Malleus is amused by Sebek and allows him to do much more than he probably should. Actually, I think I talked about their dynamic in this post!
I hope I understood you correctly. Thank you for your question! And if you have any more questions, please let me know.
Anonymous asked:
would Lilia and Azul ever fight over who gets to have Idia?
Replied here! Thank you for your question, Anon.
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torra-and-the-toons · 11 months
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Is anyone else having trouble actually tagging people in replies? The last few times I’ve replied to someone on my posts, the @ doesn’t seem to work... no matter how many times I try to set it. At least it doesn’t highlight it like it usually does... 
I just want people to know I see their lovely words and appreciate them 😭
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endlessthxxghts · 1 month
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Dr. Miller - Pt 2
Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k
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Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.
Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶
A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx
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Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow. 
This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed. 
You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway. 
After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily. 
Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even. 
Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore. 
Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes. 
“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed. 
“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies. 
He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?” 
“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”
“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously. 
“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”
He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself. 
She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk. 
He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had. 
Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood. 
“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs. 
“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”
“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now. 
Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons. 
Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”
Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality. 
“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is. 
Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss. 
“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”
“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”
“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”
Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?” 
“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”
Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”
“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains. 
“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face. 
He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”
Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”
“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”
She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out. 
Holy shit. 
His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.
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Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.  
The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles? 
Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot. 
You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.
“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead. 
“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.” 
You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains. 
“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion. 
Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful. 
“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised. 
“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you. 
You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”
The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged. 
“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth. 
You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”
He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?” 
You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you. 
Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed. 
The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need. 
He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches. 
Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine. 
You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick. 
Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts. 
You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger. 
Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor. 
Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table. 
“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention. 
He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch. 
“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer. 
To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.
“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.
“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you. 
Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down. 
“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him. 
This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later. 
Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”
That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-
“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly. 
“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I hurt you last time.”
“No you didn’t-”
“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals. 
Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow. 
“Um-”
“Lift,” he states. 
You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.
And it does. 
“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action. 
He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.
“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore. 
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says. 
“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently. 
“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”
How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.
“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation. 
“Joel,” he offers.
Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question. 
“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”
His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention. 
“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”
His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance. 
It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other. 
His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you. 
“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”
“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting. 
“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room. 
“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture. 
“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge. 
“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him. 
Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight. 
Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length. 
“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in. 
“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest. 
He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.
So he does. 
He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?
Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for. 
“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance. 
Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.
Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.
He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.
“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow. 
“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word. 
Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”
“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”
“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”
You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment. 
He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.
“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”
“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.
“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward. 
“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end. 
“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest. 
The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips. 
“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you. 
“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm. 
His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into. 
“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.  
“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”
Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly. 
“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you. 
Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken. 
“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”
He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible. 
His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”
Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue. 
He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.
You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”
“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”
You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk. 
Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case. 
He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size. 
“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest. 
All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.
Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle. 
“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right. 
“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off. 
His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say. 
“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him. 
You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste. 
You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in. 
You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-
“Dr. Miller?!”
Shit. 
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NEXT (coming soon) ->
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I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
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emmettworld · 2 months
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if you follow me, please read.
the mass reporting has started up again (combined, obviously, with the anon hate), and it's only a matter of time before this blog is taken down too. so someone on my server helped me come up with what seems to be the best solution.
two things:
i am moving to a new main blog. this one will be privated, not deleted, and only i will be able to access it. on the new main blog, i will only be posting SFW content, nothing that could be reported unless someone is filing a false or malicious report.
i am creating a password protected blog where i will only post NSFW content, including the type that i'm being targeted for. this blog will not appear in search results unless you are following me (so it WILL be marked as Mature), and only people with the password can access it.
believe me, i hate doing this so soon after remaking. but yall have seen where this is going and i need to act now before i lose everything again.
i will drop the link to the new main blog on here. there's no point in trying to keep it private since i'm going to be posting SFW content in the tags.
for all those who are disgusted by me and still reading this for some reason, just block that blog when you see the link.
i will ONLY give out the password to the NSFW blog to people i know and trust. if you would like access to the NSFW blog, leave a 👁️ in the replies on this post.
i wish i could just give it out to everyone, but at this point, i have to suspect that someone is hate following me and would ask for the link -- and if i just give it out willy nilly, i could end up with the same problem again.
i will go through the replies on this post periodically and DM whoever i know/trust well enough. if i can't DM you, i will try to @ you and ask for you to turn DMs on. if i can't @ you, i don't have any other way.
let's hope this is the last time, yall. let's hope this is the one.
EDIT: *NEW* NEW MAIN BLOG IS EMMETTLAND ! I'M SORRY I DIDN'T KNOW DMING TOO MANY PEOPLE AT ONCE WOULD GET THE WHOLE ACCOUNT FLAGGED AS SPAM 😭
if u followed my private blog i will reach out to u with the new blog (same password) and if u haven't been able to follow it yet, just wait until i can reach out. I HAVE TO BE *VERY* CAREFUL ABOUT HOW MANY PEOPLE I DM AND HOW QUICKLY...
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macfrog · 5 months
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little aphrodite sex on fire chapter nine
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the amount i had to write jean-marc in this chapter makes me nauseous. anywho. these two heal my soul and make me weep. please enjoy a little look back at the ceo's experience of paris.
pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: we're going back to paris. this time, through joel's eyes.
warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, alcohol consumption, ostentatious flaunting of wealth (eat the rich i say), sugardaddy!joel, softdom!joel, oral (f and m receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, cursing, angst & pining, and...well. the ceo falls in love.
word count: 7.5k
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He wasn’t even sure you’d say yes when he asked. Thought you’d find it a bit much, flying halfway across the world just for one lousy meeting. He had what he’d say when you turned him down in mind, already: Sure, yeah, no problem. No, I just thought – Yeah. ‘s alright. I’ll bring you back som’ as a souvenir.
But you didn’t.
Oh, yeah? you’d said. Your face seemed to light – humored, impressed even. It made Joel feel braver. Reassured. You’ve a habit of doing that to him.
Mhm, he replied, chewing on the sub you’d ordered him after his conference call. He can’t remember what he promised Human Resources he’d have done within the hour. You walked in as he was saying it, and – well. Two days, he said, swallowing, Saturday Sunday.
And are you gonna make me take minutes while you meet with this Jean-Marc? You wiggled your fingers as you said it, letting the name drip through your lips in some kind of dreamy song. I don’t make the flight back unless they’re typed up by the time we leave? That the catch?
No catch. You don’t even gotta come to the meetin’.
I don’t have to –? Wow, Miller. You’re spoiling me, no? You kicked your leg, one knee hooked over the other. Your skirt shrinking up your thigh.
You were sat in the chair on the right, opposite his desk. You always sit in that one – and Joel’s still trying to figure out why. The working theory so far is that it’s at a good angle to watch the city below, and at the same time, see exactly who comes and goes in and out of the office during lunch.
But there has to be more to it, he thinks. He suspects. Martha’s desk is, like, five feet from yours. She spends her lunches in the conference room with Deb, shaking salads doused in balsamic vinegar and sharing cross-floor gossip. They invite you every day, and almost every day, you turn them down in favor of his shuttered office, the muted swish of cars on the street, the mock gasps and clutch of invisible pearls when you share that same fifth-floor gossip with him over the desk.
You’d been talking while he’d been thinking about the damn chair. He hadn’t heard a word of it. Huh? he asked, and you rolled your eyes.
Ain’t never listenin’, you muttered, peeling the damp paper back from your own sub.
Say it again, Joel said. Was just making a mental note to book dinner for us over there.
You scoffed, licking mayo from the corner of your lips. Why you making mental notes for anything? That’s what you pay me for.
And you were right – it is what he pays you for. Pays you to be his shadow, his right-hand man, his eyes and his ears and his entire brain, some days.
But lately – he doesn’t know. It’s different.
Truth be told, he has no idea what’s gotten into him. Looking at you the way he is. You’ve fucked around twice, now, and both times have been…nothing short of fucking amazing. Both times, Joel’s thought he might come within the first two minutes. Pushing inside your velvet walls, watching the way you roll forward, hearing the lewd moans pour across your lips.
He’s always thought you were attractive. It’s pretty fucking hard to ignore. Physically, sure – the look of your body, the way you know how to dress it. And the prettiest, softest face he’s ever seen. You can win him over in any discussion without a word, just by fluttering your eyelashes at him.
But you’re more than that. He thinks of you both as friends, maybe something more. Something deeper. It’s in the glances you steal, the silent lines tossed between one another. The way you read one another like an open book. Sometimes, he wonders if you actually can read his mind.
You’re intelligent, you’re funny, and you’re a hard fucking worker. Always on time, always seemingly juggling thirty things at once, and never letting him down. Nothing is too much, it seems; everything just is as it is. And he likes that about you. Simple. No baggage.
The morning of the flight, you send him a voice note telling him you’re downstairs. “And I ain’t lugging two cases up to the top floor only to bring ‘em back down when we’re leaving, Mr. CEO.”
He’s striding past Martha for the elevator before he’s even done listening to the message.
“Uh-uh!” she chirps, dashing over to slip between the brass doors behind him.
Joel sighs under his breath.
“I know better than to rely on you to remember all this stuff,” she says, holding up a file he’d asked her to put together for the trip.
She’s right not to – he’d probably leave that file in the car, or put it down somewhere and walk off without it. You’re the only one who can be trusted with it – with anything. You’re good at your job. And yet, he resents the fact that Martha’s about to lump you with even a fraction of responsibility for the next four days.
So when the Rolls pulls off and Martha is nothing but a pin-sized silhouette through the back window, still waving from the sidewalk, he pinches the folder in two fingers and tosses it to his left hip. Out of your grasp. You smile, eyes rolling, and pop your earbuds in. Joel breathes a laugh, eyes dipping again to skim read some contract on his phone. His hand is locked around your thigh. He likes that you just let him do it now.
Likes a lot of things about you. Likes that you put your music on shuffle, and then skip eleven tracks until you find one you actually want to listen to. Likes that your fingers twirl around the light chain of your necklace – the way they do anytime you’re nervous – and when he asks if you’re alright, you bareface lie to him and squeak, Yep.
Likes the glow the morning sun casts on you when you emerge from the car on the tarmac, pooling in the dimples on your cheeks, bright gold. The way you tug on the loose cotton of your sweatpants, bashful. Shy. And he likes that, when he follows you up the steps to the plane cabin, your awestruck expression lasts all of five seconds before that quick wit kicks straight back in.
“Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution,” you tell him, and Joel silently says his fifth thankful prayer this morning that he thought to ask you and not Martha.
He watches you settle into a seat by the window, watches you crane your neck to survey the view from the tiny circle of thick glass. He thinks about what he’d do if you were alone right now, if there weren’t crew slowly filing into the jet behind him.
He floats the idea. Tells you about the bedroom up back, tells you it’s cozy. You read between the lines just like he wants you to. And when the plane’s in the air, you follow after him.
You fall into bed together the same way you do when you arrive at the hotel. A tangle of limbs, of sweat and stuffy plane air. He sleeps the soundest he has in months – years, maybe. Pushed off by the sound of your breathing, the dip in the mattress by his side. The warmth which radiates from your body, the soft brush of your hand against his.
He puts it down to the travelling – the eight-hour flight, the plushy super king waiting on the other side. He puts it down to the way the world feels different, this side of the Atlantic. The privacy he feels come over the two of you, like sneaking into the next room: your voices muffled through the wall, your movements reduced to vague shadows beneath the door.
He watches you through sleepy eyes as you prance around the suite in the morning, twirling in and out of the bathroom while you get ready for the day. He wonders if this is what you’re like every day – if you spend your Monday mornings beaming like a little kid, toothbrush hanging lopsided from the corner of your mouth, white bubbles lining your gums. He wonders why he’s wondering. Why a part of him wants to see that version of you, too.
This version – now following his lead down Avenue Montaigne, doe-eyed and wonderstruck – is over all too soon. He’s dragged from her, from you, before he’s ready to leave.
His phone vibrates in his pocket right as he’s leading you out of some ridiculously overpriced jewelers – an irritating reminder of his meeting in an hour’s time.
“Fuck,” he whispers, holding you steady as you spin around to glimpse at the baroque building. “Hey, pretty girl,” he squeezes your hand, “I got some bad news.”
Your bottom lip pouts, eyes gleaming. It’s enough, he thinks, to convince him to stick around. If you asked him to, he’d text Jean-Marc right now and tell him to fuck off. But you tell him to go, tell him you’ll meet him back at the hotel once he’s done and you’re tired. With a teasing smirk and a tiny wave, you see him off down the cobbled street. He watches from the back window as you set off again, heading towards another iron-gated store.
Denis pulls up alongside the towering hotel, totters around the car to meet Joel as he stretches out of the Maybach. The square-jawed man stands with his hands linked, and nods enthusiastically when Joel thanks him.
“The shopping – I will take it back to the hotel,” he assures his boss, a wide smile on his lips.
He’s a good guy, Denis. He’s chauffeured Joel to five of these meetings over as many years – he knows the drill by now. Knows it’ll be a couple hours and a few whiskeys before he gets another call to pick him up.
His nodding doubles, more obedient when Joel asks him to make sure he listens for your call. “You mind stayin’ nearby that part of town?” he asks. “Just so – when she’s done, y’know…”
“Not at all,” Denis says, flapping two palms to the ground. Swatting away Joel’s concern, his worrying, his missing you.
He replies, a little absentmindedly, passing by the head of gray hair with a distant smile. “Thanks, Denis. See you later.”
Five meetings, five trips over here to be pestered by some obnoxious little man in an obnoxious little robe and obnoxious little loafers, and still, Joel never knows what to expect. He strides beneath the golden archway entrance into a domed lobby, every surface spotless and shining; marble counter in the center with a symmetrically-suited clerk sat behind.
She stands and smiles politely to Joel as he approaches, recognizing him with a flutter of her eyelashes. He feels the absence of your arm on his, an ache at his elbow.
“Monsieur,” she croons, pale fingers reaching for the telephone. She whispers something softly into the receiver and then nods, folding her painted lips together as she places the handset back into its cradle. With a floating hand aimed at the elevator behind her, she says, sultry and dreamlike, “He is ready for you.”
Joel fights an eyeroll with every fiber of his being. He wanders round the circular desk, bunches his shoulders into the tight elevator, and jams his thumb into the button marked P.
The doors shudder open when he reaches the top floor. He steps out slowly, waiting for the Frenchman to pounce on him like some kind of wild cat. Wouldn’t put it past him, Joel thinks. As he’s scanning the room, counting the six bouquets dotted around, there’s a single clap from behind the veiled curtains. A silhouette out on the terrace.
Jean-Marc swings between the sheer white, calling out to the lonely figure in his entryway. “If it isn’t my favorite American,” he sings, taking Joel by the arms and squeezing roughly. “How lovely to see you again, Joelie. Please, come.”
The sunlight blinds Joel when he steps out into it, peering over the city skyline under low brows. Jean-Marc is already sat at the top of a thin, glass table, pouring golden whiskey into a square glass and scooping two bulky ice cubes in. The nectar swirls around when the glass is held out to Joel, the ice tittering as he accepts it.
The table, a rocky terrain of pain au chocolat and brioche, pools of citrus spreads and dishes of butter. Joel keeps his hands to himself as Jean-Marc slaps jam onto a croissant, bronze flakes fluttering all over the table as he attempts to regale Joel with some investment into a casino.
“Riccardo says it is too much; I told him to go to hell. We will double the cost of the place, I know it, Joel. We have the eye for things like these, men like you and I, hm?”
Men like you and I, Joel thinks, lips tilting. He balances the glass on his thigh, watches the ice cubes turn over themselves. He thinks of you, thinks of the man you see him as. Thinks how tall he stands against the man Jean-Marc must see sat opposite him right now.
Thinks how rotten, and ugly, and how small the latter is. How easily you and your words could crumble him. All show, all sitting on perfect terraces with pretentious dickbags disguised as friends, drinking pissy whiskey with a plastered smile on his lips.
How comical it all is – the sound of yapping across the tabletop, These idiots would pay millions for manure if you painted it golden, the sprawling sheets of green-leafed plants, the headache-inducing flowers, the buckled loafers and the signet ring catching the sun.
How much he misses the weight of you on his hips, forearms flat on his chest, ear against his heart. The sound of your laughter lilting in his ear. The rosy smell of your skin and the feel of your eyelashes, featherlight on his cheek. He feels the distance between the two of you like elastic strung apart, stretching thinner and thinner, weaker and frailer, ready to snap into two halves at any moment.
“Anyways,” Jean-Marc says, lifting the wine bottle shakily. It clinks brashly against the lip of his glass, a painful scrape. Joel wonders if he’s already halfway to hammered. “Tell me how you’ve been, Joelie.”
Joel tells him he’s been fine. Business is fine. Money is fine. Company’s doing fine. Everything’s fucking fine. Easiest answer to avoid further questioning, to satiate Jean-Marc’s constant thirst for news, or intel, or just plain gossip.
He slips up, though. Makes the one colossal mistake he spent all morning hoping and praying and drilling directly into his brain that he wouldn’t.
Jean-Marc asks how his flight was, sticking the damp end of a cigarette to his bottom lip.
Joel says, “Good, yeah. We got here, maybe, ten o’clock last night.”
And Jean-Marc’s eyebrows arch. His hands freeze, match held against the striker strip. “We?” he asks, white stick flapping between his teeth.
“Uh,” Joel shifts in his seat. Your gentle wave, the corners of your lips, the toss of hair over your shoulder. It’s as though Jean-Marc can see his thoughts played on a reel before him, the haste with which Joel attempts to wipe you from his own mind. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “Jerry ‘n Lisa. Len and Pol.”
The Frenchman’s eyes narrow, a grin pulling on his pink lips. “We,” he says again, whipping the match roughly against the strip. Speaking into cupped hands, a cloud of white billowing from his leathery fingers, he murmurs, “Joel brought company with him to Paris, yes? Who is the lucky tourist? Une petite amie?”
Joel’s tongue dabs at the sickly wash of whiskey on his lips. He thinks to grab the fucker by the throat, throttle him until the idea of you rattles from his skull, spilling back into Joel’s safe hands where you belong.
He almost fucking lies. Almost says it’s just Martha, or Drew, or his fucking mother. But Jean-Marc is like a rat, scurrying along after a source of water. He’ll find it in the end. They always do.
He breathes your name, reluctant to let it go. Jean-Marc cocks his head, leans in, a swirling snake of silky smoke lifting from the cigarette between his fingers. Joel repeats it, voice louder, but flatter. Breaks it into too many syllables. Lets his host hear every bite of annoyance.
“She’s my assistant,” he says, and Jean-Marc claps again.
“Your assistant! How wonderful. And where is she today? She is not…” his fingers circle the air, disturbing the trail of smoke, “…assisting you?”
“Gave her the afternoon off.” Joel lifts his glass to his lips. The geometric shape amplifies his voice, bass like the growl of a bear. “Busy couple days. She deserves some downtime.”
He hates the sound of your name as it peels from Jean-Marc’s tongue. Like a hangnail, the residue a gorge of bloody, torn skin. Your name is Joel’s favorite sound, he realizes now, and the way this little asshole keeps butchering it boils an anger so hot and so quick under his skin that he’s not sure he can hold it at bay.
It’s not as if he owns you or your name – far from it. He has no desire to be anything more than a placeholder: somewhere for you to slot your hand, rest your head, curl your body against. Still, he feels a direct protectiveness over you right now. An impulse to stand in front of Jean-Marc’s tiny figure, arms wide, stopping him from picturing you or learning about you or meeting you.
Which is, of course, exactly what the little fucker suggests.
A wet pff sound as he rids his mouth of bitter smoke, and he offers to host breakfast in the morning.
“No, no, we, uh –” Joel’s hands are up, like pleading with the man, whiskey kissing the lip of its glass, “– you don’t have to – Look, Jean-Marc, I’m sure you’re busy enough with all –”
“Nonsense!” Jean-Marc waves a hand. Ash sprinkles down the cuff of his robe. “It would be my pleasure. Shall we say, ten?”
Joel grumbles, eye following the flight of a bird in the distance. What are you doing right now? Are you back in the suite, trying on the outfit you picked out together? Are you still wandering down the streets, drinking up the lavish city like a perfect little cocktail of bliss and wonder?
And what the fuck does he have to do to excuse himself, to come find you, to wrap his arms around you and never let you leave his side again?
He feels idiotic. Juvenile. Like a stupid little teenager, pining for his junior year girlfriend. The feelings all sharp and brittle, prodding his heart roughly anytime he thinks too hard on them.
When he looks back to Jean-Marc – the cigarette tearing closer and closer to his fingers, an expectant smile on his lips – he concedes.
“Ten is fine,” he says, and suddenly, the sky casts over.
You’re on the terrace when he finally returns to the hotel room. Head aching from the alcohol and forced conversation, he drags himself over to you.
The sight of you, hair lifting in the breeze, the sweet smell and soft touch under his hands feels like the pouring of honey on a raw throat, like cool water lapping at his waist on a scorching day. And he needs more, and he feels the saliva pool beneath his tongue, and you’re touching him and talking to him and all he can think about is replacing his saliva with you – with every drop of you that you’ll lend him.
You follow his every request – parting your legs, making room for him between them, opening yourself to him like coming home after work, like sinking deep into your shared bed, like pushing your salt-slicked fingers on his tongue and chanting taste me taste me love me need me.
Petals opening, shards of orange separating. His cock throbs in his pants when he feels the circle of your hips against his jaw, the taste of sweet, sweet nectar spilling from your center. His clothes still smell of the smoke from Jean-Marc’s weedy lips; the sweat on his skin borne from three hours sat in the sun, dehydrated by whiskey, discussing money and gold and then money again.
He doesn’t want to fuck you here, like this. As that puny, pompous prick he’s felt like since the second he wandered through the Frenchman’s hotel doors. He can’t. You deserve him clean, new. You deserve the Joel you think he is – yours. Affected by your touch alone, moved by the gleam in your eye. You deserve him, Joel decides, on your terms.
And that same night, stood in the same spot, dregs of sunlight replaced by molten moonlight, staring at the dazzling Eiffel Tower against the deep blue sky – that same night, when he turns and clocks the silhouette of your body just feet from him, he realizes that this is it.
He’s sure he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, standing in the dim light, your fingers playing with the bust of the silk robe draped over your body. The jewelry on your neck catching the light like his own private attraction, his own little spectacle. Just for him.
He forgets any other version of himself. Shakes them off like seawater flying from his body as he emerges from the ocean. Venus stood before him; hair lifting in the light, palm over her breast. And he doesn’t notice the departure of those old versions; doesn’t feel the way they tear from his skin. His eyes are glued on you, only you, everything around the two of you reducing to dark matter. There is only his awestruck gaze pointed to your radiant form, as though the scene sits alive in the eye of Botticelli or Michelangelo.
Baby, he whispers, and you move forward, dragging him with you under a wave of lust and rebirth.
He stirs the next morning to the feeling of a weight shifting across his body, two divots in the mattress either side of his waist. Something nuzzling, warm and featherlight, into the nook below his earlobe. Wet kisses trailing down his neck.
There’s no weight of you in the crook of his arm anymore. He’s scooping thin air. He lifts it, and his palm meets the baggy cotton of his own T-shirt, draped over your body, draped over him.
A laugh brushes between his lips. “Mornin’, darlin’,” he croaks, voice still low and broken.
“Hi,” you whisper back, voice like silk and sugar and tufts of lustrous clouds.
He opens his eyes and you’re hovering over him. Tip of your nose circling his, hips light as air across his own.
You look so fucking cute, he thinks. He’d take what he had last night – you, dripping in black lace and bound by satin straps – every night for the rest of his life, if he could. If you’d grant him it. But, this. This.
You – in Joel’s clothes and nothing else. You – the curl of your hair now a lazy wave, the smoky afterthought of your half-removed makeup. The smell of sex still lingering on your skin, the taste of Joel still home on your tongue. Each part of you laced with a part of him.
You – holding yourself up over him, less than an inch apart, and all Joel thinks to do is wrap his arms around your back and let you drop onto his body; his strong, solid body, which accepts the weight of you with only so much as a tiny grunt over his lips when you fall on top of him.
You giggle. He swears he feels butterflies in his stomach. He prays you don’t feel them, fluttering purposefully against your ribcage.
“You’re an idiot,” you mumble into his collarbone, words curled by the smile on your lips. You suck a mark into the hot skin, teeth and flesh and sel et sucre, and then push off from his chest, nudging his thighs wider with your knee.
Your tongue drags a wet trail down his chest, from solid sternum to suppler stomach, following the thickening of hair the lower you move. You leave wet kisses along the crests of his hipbones, the gentle slope of skin leading you to the wide base of his cock, already stiff.
Joel’s breath hitches when your tongue sweeps across it. Your eyes lift and lock with his, fingers taking a heavy hold of him. He smiles, tongue sitting patiently behind his teeth.
“Go on, angel,” he nods, “put that pretty little mouth on daddy.”
You obey instantly, as hungry for it as he is, your tongue swiping from the base of him up, curling around as you reach the head. Swollen, gleaming, slit dripping with slick precome that you lick with just the tip of your tongue and send a roll of pleasure across every nerve in Joel’s body.
He falls back, hands searching for the back of your skull as your lips sink further down down down, tightening around the smooth skin, stopping only when they meet the tuft of hair decorating his dick. His tip pushes against the back of your throat. His head begins to spin.
His back arches, hands anchored on your head, holding you steady as you bob up and down. His shoulders push heavy into the mattress, tummy sucks in until the points of his ribcage mold through his skin. And, oh – you’re so soft with it, so wet and so warm and so good with your tongue, kitten licks over his tip, wet fist wrapped tight around the width of him.
You lift your hand and meet his halfway up his stomach, fingers intertwining, Joel’s knuckles instantly whitening.
“Doin’ so good, baby,” he groans, gasping when your throat constricts around him again.
You gag, choking with a wet grunt, but you never pull away. A quick pause, a heavy breath from your nostrils, and your movements resume.
“’s alright,” Joel coos, fingers rubbing against the back of your hand, “you got it. Atta-girl, fuck.”
His hips begin to lift, slowly jerking up into your mouth. He looks down, loosens the grip you have on his hand only to run his thumb delicately across your cheek, dabbing lightly at the tears in the corner of your eye.
You suck hard around him, cheeks hollowing, tongue flattening to his underside to let him fuck your mouth – a rhythm of sopping sounds and heartbeat hums from your throat. He’s close. He’s so fucking close.
“Just like that,” he tells you, and you blink up at him. Moans muffled by the mouthful of cock, saliva and sex slipping from your swollen lips. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. You’re such a good girl – you want daddy to give it to you?”
Mhm, you mumble into the warmth of his cock, the vibration of your throat on the eager skin enough to send Joel over the fucking edge. He throws his head back, lifts his hips up to you, and fills your mouth at the same rate he fills the room with the sound of his orgasm.
You take every last drop. You’re so good for him. Once he stills, once the screaming in his ears subsides, once the room slowly desaturates back to normal, a faded, blurry normal – he sits up and hooks his hands under your arms, pulling you up into him.
You collapse against his chest for the second time this morning, giggling and licking the last of his come from your mouth. Joel guides your jaw towards his, lips meeting in the middle, and licks the salty aftertaste from your tongue.
He rolls you both over, your thighs sitting safe on his hips.
“I know,” you sigh, head rolling against the curve of his arm beneath, “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”
“Tell you what, angel?” he asks, one eyebrow lifting.
“Best head you ever had. I know.”
He scoffs, lips finding the hinge of your jaw. You giggle into his ear, a sound softer than birds cooing at the break of dawn, sweeter than the first bite of ripe fruit – the sharp taste bursting across his tongue and coating his teeth in sugar, numbed by the holy coaxing of feathered doves.
“You’re good with it, I’ll give you that,” he murmurs, and the giggle erupts into a laugh which fuels him enough to follow your roll out of bed, tear his shirt from your shoulders, and slip into the shower behind you, kneeling before you when you turn to look.
Joel’s second encounter with Jean-Marc in as many days, goes about as well as the first.
He balls his fists as he introduces the pair of you, watches like a caged and bound animal as Jean-Marc’s eyes loop all around your face, your shoulders, the pull of your dress around your waist.
He knows he’s being quiet. The glances you keep stealing at him tell him you know it, too. He wishes there was something he could say, something his lips might be able to carve into a neat little sentence. Tongue sanding the jagged edges of what he’d really like to say into a joke, a quip to ease the tension you so obviously feel.
But he can’t. His tongue isn’t blunt, isn’t defensive. It’s sharp like the kiss of venom, protective and aggressive. He knows he’d do better to hold it tight between his teeth.
The best he finds himself able to do is keep a heavy hand on your thigh, let you wrap your fingers around his own, squeeze you in place of whispering in your ear.
You hold your own, up against Jean-Marc. He knew you would. He learned less than a week into working with you, not to underestimate you. Your quick tongue, the million and one observations hidden behind the flash of a frown. He knows you can read Jean-Marc – probably better than he can, having known the guy ten years.
It doesn’t make it feel any safer, though. Luring you into a lion’s den. He knows you’ll make it out alive, but he can’t stand the thought of the claw marks in your skin.
That feeling washes over him again – that urge scored so deep into his bones that it hits marrow, to put himself between you and anything which might come to harm you. He swallows it down with the acidic sting of orange juice �� slots it somewhere safe in his chest until he can assess whatever the fuck it is. Whatever the fuck it means.
His hand tightens around your leg when Jean-Marc mutters something to his assistant. Joel decides against asking you what it means, for fear he’ll tear the Frenchman limb from limb, strips of satin robe strung across the paved patio.
The assistant – tall, thin, looming over you like impending doom on legs – offers to show you the view of the city. And as Jean-Marc settles into your empty chair, the image of that torn satin robe shunts closer towards reality.
“I wonder if you might indulge me,” Jean-Marc slithers, pinching thin air with one hand and resting the other on the back of Joel’s chair.
“I wonder,” Joel mutters, finger tapping angrily on the table.
“She is a wonderful character. Beautiful, and very smart, I can see. I would be crazy not to ask, you must understand, Joel –”
He can’t help himself. He bites before Jean-Marc lays the trap. His head shakes. “She’s – she’s –”
And suddenly there isn’t a single word in the English dictionary worthy of describing you. Not a single combination of letters, of sounds, of syllables and phonetics that would do you justice.
He settles for, “I wouldn’t be anywhere without her.” It feels fucking redundant. It is fucking redundant.
Jean-Marc nods. “And you know that I see the value in things, hm?”
Joel dead-eyes his opponent, gaze narrowing. “What are you sayin’, Jean-Marc?”
“Well,” he shrugs, gesturing to the shadow pointing out the Eiffel Tower, “Paul is fantastic. Dedicated, hardworking. But it is a lot, for one person. I am sure you can understand, being that you have two assistants yourself.”
“And you wanna take one of ‘em out from under me?”
Jean-Marc chuckles, shaking his head. Tutting. Teeth grinding. He senses the bitter tone, hears the distortion of words squeezing through gritted teeth. “Not at all, my dear Joelie, not at all.”
Placating. It pisses Joel off more.
“I simply would like to raise the question of: would she like to be…taken?”
“Taken?”
“Hired. By me.”
The smug grin which pulls over taut lips incites Joel with a desire to punch the luminous veneers from their gummy holders. His fist balls again, nails digging harshly into his palm. He swallows roughly.
“She seems…she seems happy enough where she is to me.” He glances over, catches your eye for a fleeting second before Paul’s ghostly hand perches on your shoulder and turns your attention away again. Resigned, he adds, “You would have to ask her. I ain’t speakin’ for her.”
Jean-Marc’s leer only grows. “Ask her,” he repeats, nodding. “That is an idea.” He pushes out of his chair with a squeal of wood across stone, calling to the party, “Why don’t we take a drive? There is so much of the city I would love to show you – both of you, of course.”
Before he knows it, Joel’s on his feet, too, panic hammering through every muscle in his body. He tosses some half-assed excuse to the breeze; a half-truth, a desperate attempt to pull you away from the beady eyes and sharp claws of Jean-Marc and his assistant, and back over to his side. He takes your arm and scatters, pulling you past four, five, six bursting bouquets, your heels clicking along the polished floor, your head spinning.
He can feel the blood thrashing through his veins as the elevator arrives back in the lobby. Can see the shadow of Paul the assistant still over your shoulder, the place his hand sat like charcoal on white linen. He feels red hot, anger mixed with panic mixed with a word he hasn’t let slip just yet. He covers it by answering your questions shakily, diverting the ones about the conversation on the terrace.
And then you’re back in the safety of Denis’s car. You’re back to being on your own, together. No third set of eyes watching your every move, studying you like you’re some doll to be observed, or worse. You’re touching him again, holding his arm, caressing his cheek. His breathing eases, his body relaxes into the backseat of the Maybach.
You tell him you’d like to see the Louvre. So Joel takes you to see the Louvre.
Joel Miller has never been in love.
He’s said it, sure. Said it plenty to Avery.
G’night, love you.
I’m so proud of you, sweet; I love you so much.
Thanks for makin’ dinner, babe, I love you.
It began to take the form of breath, passing over his tongue with as much ease and instinct as his lungs would push out air. She looked at him a certain way – he’d say he loved her. They’d talk about the future – he’d tell her he loved her. They fought, over his working hours or the interest rates at different banks or whose family to spend Christmas with – and he’d remind her he loved her.
He meant every single one. He did, truly, love her. He loved her auburn hair, the way it’d sweep over her shoulders like a wave of fire. He loved the way she would pause to take thirty photos of the sky at sunset. He loved how homely she was, how simple and warm she could be. Her recipe books lining the shelves in her kitchen. Her pajamas folded neatly at the foot of her bed, waiting for her at the end of the day.
He loved her enough to spend four years with her, a life split nearly down the middle. Never seeping into one another. His side of the bed, and hers. His items in the fridge, and hers. His fucking bathrobe, and hers.
But right now, standing in a jam-packed room, maneuvering awkwardly around museum guides and backpacked tourists, avoiding the knee-height glass barriers and dodging fucking selfie sticks – Joel knows: he has never been in love.
Not until the moment he turns from some headless bust to search the room – the dark marble walls and great, carved arches; the white Parisian sky illuminating everything in a pale glow. Not until he catches a glimpse of you amongst the sea of bodies – stood before the Venus de Milo, staring up in wonder at Aphrodite like she’s the first thing in the world you’ve ever truly seen. The gentle lean of her body, the low sling of marble fabric around her waist, the soft dimple of her navel.
The way your eyes scan every detail of her form – every fold draped over her thigh, ever chisel mark and chip in her torso. The round swell of her breasts and the wavelike swirl of her hair. Barely blinking, afraid to lose sight of her for even a second.
Joel’s never been in love. Not until this very moment.
He only turned to make some quip about…well, now he can’t fucking remember, can he? Something irrelevant. Something so mundane, so meaningless, so dull that he wishes he could take back every word he ever said to you and use the breath more wisely – use the time spent making stupid jokes and work orders, just to look at you. Watch you, like he is right now. Every other thought, every worry and concern drop weightlessly from his mind, with such ease that he doesn’t feel the loss.
Your fixed stare up at the statue’s set face, the slow pacing of your heels, ankles crossing over one another as you pivot around her. And the look of wonder on your face – as if Joel instantly recognizes eight-year-old you, thumbing through the pages of the first art book she was ever gifted, copying the curled hair and round shoulders of the marble goddess in a pencil sketch.
Haloed by the towering windows behind you, arms crossed over your chest. Lips melting from a content smile to agape, and then pinning back in a smile again.
And suddenly – he can’t remember the flame of hair over his ex’s shoulder. Doesn’t remember a single meal she ever cooked for him. In the blink of an eye, he realizes he doesn’t want a life neatly split anywhere.
He realizes that his life, the way he wants it, was always meant to be meshed with yours. Intertwined so tightly that there is no his and hers. Last night at dinner, you couldn’t decide between the bœuf bourguignon and the confit de canard, so Joel ordered both – as well as what he wanted – and the two of you picked at three separate meals. Holding out forkfuls to feed one another, comparing and judging them like professional chefs on a fucking cooking show.
Back at the hotel, you fell asleep in his arms. Your head nestled under his chin; your arms curved around his shoulders. In the center of the bed, laying at an angle. When he got up this morning, the robe he threw around himself smelled like your perfume. The terrycloth on your shoulders, tinged with the weak scent of whiskey.
None of it – not the relationship you had before any of this happened, not the strolling over one boundary to the next, not the blurring of lines between colleague, and friend, and lover – has been neat. None of it has made any sense. And maybe that’s why he fucking trusts it so much.
Joel spent the first two weeks after you fooled around in his office swearing he wasn’t that guy. Staring himself down in the mirror with a balled fist, a pointed finger that said, You don’t sleep with your fucking assistant, you idiot.
And now, standing opposite you in a crowded room and only seeing you – he knows. He finally gets it.
He loves you. He – no, fuck.
He doesn’t just love you.
He’s on his knees, dagger through his heart –
blood spilling all over the pristine floor –
pathetic and adolescent in its nature –
butterflies tearing through his stomach as destructive as a hurricane –
in love with you.
He thinks to say it. To wander over and kiss your shoulder, hook his chin into your collarbone like he did in the Dolce and Gabbana store, and whisper, Hey. I love you. Did you know that?
But he knows that’d be fucking insane. Knows you’d probably unstick yourself from him and back up, tripping in your step. Paris ruined.
He knows he’d probably get so far as curving around your back and then bottle it, anyway. The words would die in his throat. You’d just lean back into him, none the wiser. You’d still make his heart pound.
Pound the way it does when you reach for his wrist and drag him off into the next room, and the next, and the next. And with every piece of art your eyes fall upon, another fragment of your soul is revealed to Joel. The depth of da Vinci, the color of Bruyère. The scale of Veronese and the beauty of Canova.
And with every part revealed, a desire blooms in him to learn the next part. Understand you; know you better than he knows himself. See you, the way he’s seeing you right now.
He takes his ex’s lead, when you’re stood in front of the Mona Lisa. All those fucking sunset photos, like she was afraid to forget what it looked like. The thought becomes urgent, pushing past every other meaningless word in his head.
He taps you on the shoulder, says your name lightly. When you turn, he’s already holding the phone up, watching your delayed motions through the screen. Please don’t let me forget this. Don’t let me forget you, like this.
“Smile,” he says, and you do.
“You’re cheesy,” you tell him, wandering off from the painting.
He’s still staring at the photo. At your dimpled cheeks, your red lips. Staring at your eyes, seeing a new glint in them that wasn’t there before. Like eight-year-old you smiling back at him, trusting him, knowing him.
Joel breathes, “She’s beautiful,” taking your waist in a steady arm to guide you out of the room.
You misunderstand him. He knows it. He doesn’t correct you.
She’s beautiful – the Mona Lisa. But she only became beautiful the second you laid eyes on her. The second she handed you a piece of your soul, the transaction laid bare for Joel to witness. A bucket list item ticked, or simply your childhood self, stood before one of her own seven wonders.
Everything is only beautiful after it comes into contact with you.
There’s a change in you, the morning that you leave. Something low-lying, melancholy and blue. Joel feels it under your skin, in the grip you keep on his hand the entire car ride from the hotel to the airport.
“You good?” he asks, walking up the steps of the jet, shelled around you. Safe, with him, safe with him.
You nod, but you’re watching the Maybach roll off, rounding the corner back to the airport. The same way you watch the city disappear beneath the clouds as the plane takes off.
The same way you glance over to him, your glossy eyes twinkling, pearly tears swimming across your waterline. Joel gets it. Figures he feels much the same.
He leads you slowly back through to the dark cabin bedroom, where you peel the shirt and sweats from your body. He watches from the bed, arm outstretched and inviting you to burrow into his side, curl around his body, loop your legs through his. His own little Aphrodite, the curves and the dimples and all the beauty to go with her.
He sinks his shoulder to let you nuzzle into him, let your slow-closing eyes follow his movements like rocking you back and forth to sleep. You link your arm through his, locking your bodies tight together. Joel slows his typing down, moves gentler, so you can fall asleep without being nudged too much by his arm.
You mumble something into the sleeve of his tee. He pauses. Looks down at your already closed eyes, your parted lips.
“What’d you say, baby?”
You take a deep, slow breath. Already sleeping, he thinks. And then, in the sigh that escapes from your mouth, you whisper to him.
“Please don’t ever leave.”
681 notes · View notes
gyuwoncheol · 6 months
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Takes Two to Tango
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Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Summary: Cheollie to the rescue on a bad day
Warnings: angst, mentions of Cheol’s torn ACL injury. There is, in fact, no tango happening at all.
WC: 1.7k
Author's Note: Wrote this a while back but have always waited for the right time to post it. I’ve had an exhausting week, probably the most tired I’ve been in a long while. I just want to be conforted by Cheol. Dedicating this also to all my carat friends going though a rough patch right now. You must remember our boys and our leader love us so much 🩵🩷
Author's Note 2.0: Written because I truly miss Cheol and I know he misses us just as much. I always feel slightly disoriented when I don’t see him in the promotions. I also just really miss having an ot13 comeback 😞
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“Babe?” It’s the first thing you hear when you enter the door and you’re already cursing at how Seungcheol just knows it’s you.
“Hmm,” You drop your keys and took off your shoes, taking a quick glance at the mirror by your main door, wiping the dried tears that marked your cheeks. Kkuma eventually got to you and pawed at your legs gently. You pick her up and cuddle into her a good few minutes, sighing heavily as you shut your eyes closed.
There wasn’t really any other way to put it. You had an absolute shit of a day. You got a flat tire on the way to the office, consequently making you late to a very important meeting. You were given a new workload that wasn’t even really part of your scope anymore but there was really no other person who could take it on, while another important project you’d been taking care of had to be delayed because of a manufacturing problem. Everyone in the office seemed to need to meet you that you ended up taking lunch 2 hours late, and just when you were about to take your 3rd cup of coffee for the day, the lid had popped open and spilled the brown liquid all over your very white top. By the time you left the office, you were cranky and hungry, like you wanted to scream and fight with anyone. It was only when you arrived at home and caught sight of the warm light that peeked through the windows that you were reminded about Cheol being home.
Your boyfriend who was nursing a torn ACL and evidently spent much of his day at home. Your boyfriend who was sweet and loving enough to check in on you throughout the day, but he barely got substantial replies. Your boyfriend who didn’t mind cause he knew you were busy. Your boyfriend who was now looking at you with the softest eyes as you approached him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi baby,” he greeted, arms open wide as he remained partially immobile on the couch.
You hesitated about going in front of the couch and receiving his embrace, your heart feeling like it was squeezed at the moment. To your better judgment, you hugged him with one arm from behind and a quick kiss on his lips instead.
“Can i just go clean up first? I.. i got coffee spilled all over me,” you excused yourself, averting his gaze.
Seungcheol nodded and watched you scurry away to your shared bedroom, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He normally gets sulky when you avoid his hugs, but this time he had already sensed something was off with you. It was the way you wrongly messaged him “take care at rehab” at 1pm when he actually had his appointment at 10am. You’ve never forgotten any of his appointments. It was also in the way he had noticed you enter the house only 20 minutes after your car park at the garage. He obviously noticed how tired you looked and the little smudge of your mascara from tears. It broke his heart that you chose to keep this with yourself, you normally always ran to him for refuge when you needed it.
You stood idly in the shower for what felt like forever. If it were up to you, you would’ve never gotten out but alas, you could only hide forever and the water bill will spike up so you got out and got changed, drying your hair and pulling on one of your boyfriend’s large shirts, your favorite one.
“Oh my god!” You jumped at the sight of Seungcheol on the bed when you got to your bedroom, “you scared me. How’d you get all the way here?!”
“Babe, I can already walk you know? Just slowly, but I still get to places.”
“Right, yeah, sorry. I was just surprised,” you shook your head, “uhmm.. i’m gonna go get water…”
“There’s water here,” Seungcheol pointed out, gesturing towards the small table which indeed had drinking water
“Oh. Okay. Then i’ll just go and fix up the liv—“
“Y/n,” Seungcheol called out softly but still firm, freezing you on the spot by the door. You closed your eyes at the nickname, and you just knew he knew you were avoiding him. “Please look at me?”
You turned around slowly, eyes only peeking open after taking a deep breath. You glanced at him and immediately, tears already began pricking at your eyes, so you looked down at the floor instead, standing there like a child that just got scolded. Cheol waited to see if you’d get closer or if you’d at least bring your gaze back to him but when you didn’t he worried even more. Slowly, he swung his leg off the bed to make his way to you.
“What are you doing?” You panicked with his movements.
“Trying to get you to me.”
That seemed to do the trick, your feet padding towards him quickly and helping him raise his injured leg on the bed again, “just stay put. I’ll do it.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly for good measure, “Jagi, what’s wrong? Could you please tell me?”
You looked at him once more and Cheol had the warmest gaze fixed on you. You sat by his side, feeling bad you were worrying him. “I just had a bad day at work, that’s all.”
“Wanna tell me more?” He prodded, thumb rubbing soothing circles at the back of your hand.
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You clearly aren’t,” Seungcheol retorted, “babe, you know I won’t pry if I didn’t think something else was wrong but you’re worrying me, you always run to me when you have bad days and problems, why are you shutting me out now?”
Your boyfriend sounded pained and you cursed yourself for making him feel that way. “Cheollie, i’m not shutting you out…” you whispered, “I just don’t think it matters to you is all.”
Cheol watched you shrug at your words, as if trying to convince yourself of what you just said. “It matters when it’s making my girl sad, why would you think it wouldn’t?”
“Becauseeee,” you whined, “you clearly have worse problems than I do. You’re uncomfortable, you have a hard time moving, rehab is painful, i know you’d really rather be with the boys doing work but instead you’re stuck at home. You have it much worse than I do. It’s just a bad day at work. I’ll be fine.” You said everything so fast you hadn’t even noticed a tear had rolled down your cheek but your boyfriend was quick to wipe it away before you pulling into his chest.
It crushed Cheol to see you like this. You weren’t one to hold off on your emotions to him. “Baby, just because im having a bad day doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to. My ‘bigger’ problems,” your boyfriend raised his fingers to gesture air quotes, “shouldn’t invalidate yours.”
“I know, but..”
“No but’s… your feelings are valid. Period. And I’m always here for you. We’re a team, remember?”
You looked at Seungcheol properly for the first time tonight, tears in your eyes as you studied his features intently, and then the dam broke loose. You hide your face on the crook of his neck and sobbed, little hiccups and squeaks coming out of you. Cheol could feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he embraced you in his arms, patting your hair with one hand whispering encouragements to just “let it all out”.
“I’m j-just… just so tired, Cheol,” you whispered softly in between cries, “I s-swear…. it’s nothing else… jus’ t-tired.” And it was true, there wasn’t anything else bothering you, you just simply felt tired from everything going on in your life, “I just didn’t w-want… t-to tell you and burden you. S-so I… i k-kept it in… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, shhhh, no need to be sorry. I believe you and i’m always here for you. Never a burden, jagi. Remember that.” Seungcheol squeezed you tighter, wanting to just take away all of the hurt and exhaustion you were feeling.
He continued to speak soothing words as he let you release more pent up feelings, his face scrunching up when you’d let out a strangled gasp. It hurt for Cheol to even think about how long you’ve felt this way, he has been injured for quite a while now.
You wipe away your tears after what felt like forever, the tip of your nose was positively red and your eyes were now swollen. Your boyfriend offered you a weak smile before planting a kiss on your forehead.
“I love you,” you say after clearing your throat, “thank you for listening.”
“Of course, jagi. I love you too. I’m sorry if all this,” Seungcheol gestures to his knee, “has disturbed our routine—“
“What? Cheollie, no,” you interrupted, “don’t be sorry. I’m not blaming your or your injury at all.”
“I know. I’m just saying I know things have been a little more difficult than usual for us, but I know we’ll get through it as long as we do it together, yeah? You don’t always have to give it your all, you know. I’m always going to be here to fill in the gap for you, the same way you do with me. You’ve been so good at taking care of me lately, I just hope you’d remember that I want to take care of you too, even with a bad knee.”
You giggled at his last words, knowing full well that even with his disability, Seungcheol would cross rivers and move mountains for you. That’s simply how he is as a person. It showed with how he flew to Japan to support his brothers and see their fans for their show. You witnessed it in the way he’d wake up early in the morning even when he didn’t have a schedule just so he could take breakfast with you and send you off for work. Saw it with how there was always dinner ready on the table when you got home. Sometimes they were cooked by him, sometimes just delivered, but it didn’t matter to you. You knew it was his way to make good on his promise of using all this time at home to make up for lost time with you.
Some people think it annoyingly stubborn— some people being his doctors— but to you, it meant that he was passionate, determined and most importantly, he loved fiercely.
He loves you fiercely.
You gently nodded at his words whilst cupping his face in your small hands. Seungcheol did the same, his thumb wiping your dried tears after placing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Together?” You asked despite knowing the answer.
“Together.”
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idiaa-shroxd · 1 year
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THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ vice dormleaders. ❞
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SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?
warnings; gn!reader x vice dormleaders + ruggie & platonic ortho. long post. rewrote this a bit so sorry if it seems a bit long or short in some places, i just did not like the way some parts turned out. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii. reading the prologue and first part is highly recommended, before reading this!
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HEARTSLABYUL. trey clover.
TREY CLOVER.
“Thank you again for your help, Trey. Thanks to you everything turned out amazing.” You practically beam as you lower the treat onto the floor as the hoard of cats line up politely one by one waiting for their bowls of new and improved cat food. “No problem, prefect. If you ever need any more help with anything I would be happy to help.” He replied, chuckling as he took off his apron and handed it to you to put away.
Fixing his glasses he made his way over to his favorite cat, squatting down and reminding her to eat slowly unless she wanted to choke as she let out a soft meow before hungrily chewing on her food again. As she finished she looked up at him expectantly and her paws tugged onto his shirt’s sleeves. “You can have a treat, just one though.” He relented, not able to deny his favorite kitty. Watching from behind the counter you take a photo forgetting about the sound as you’re caught, quickly looking away. “Hey don’t look at me like that, you’re both extremely cute.”
Trey was quite amused by your business venture when he heard of it, not quite sure whether it would be smart to have animals in a cafe though, considering the food safety for both the people and cats. When he listens to you explain there’s no actual human food, only drinks and snacks from gacha machines and crane machines in a room the cats cannot access he understands and comments that it were a smart idea and he’d be happy to visit your cafe. He even makes you a celebratory pastry as a gift for opening your own business in Twisted Wonderland and comes a bit before opening to hand it to you personally. Perhaps he should of baked it the night before however as one cat locked their sights on him, biting and nipping his fingers lightly that smell and taste vaguely like his treat.
Minutes later after you put your gift away you return to find Trey at your bar counter and a cat in his lap playfully biting him and nudging against his chest as he presses a soft kiss against her head. You decided to stand by and watch the two as he cuddles the cat close to his chest, the kitty headbutting his chin and meowing up at him while a pure and happy smile adorns his lips, a chuckle escaping. You aren’t sure how long it took for him to notice you but he look mildly embarrassed you caught him as the cat is upset at you for stealing his attention away and goes back to meowing at him for love. He ends up staying longer than anticipated as he drinks tea that you brewed and watches you care for the cats before officially opening up. He’s so distracted by you and the cats he nearly forgets he should be working on crowd control at Ramshackle before a card soldier is suffering Riddle’s wrath.
His favorite cat is a maine coon and she has a mix of dark brown and light brown fur, with golden eyes. She’s gotten quite a bit chubbier recently as he tends to feed her a lot of treats, it’s in his nature. Apricot knows very well she has him wrapped around her paws and when you scold her she plays innocent and nudges up to Trey who apologizes to you but defends her. She’s extremely therapeutic for him after a long day as she meows right at his face pawing his chest and stepping all over him. Apricot is also a massive fan of licking his fingers whenever he comes over as he vaguely smells like flowers and he tastes sugary sweet. He got her a new collar, replacing her old grey one with nothing too fancy. A dark green leather collar with golden cake prints, with a silent bell in front and a traditional plain bow in the back. He prefers simplicity over being overly extra.
He does play favorites, he says he doesn’t but he does. Apricot is almost like his child, he babies her, cuddles her, and feels much happier when she’s with him. She’s fairly fluffy so he spends time brushing over her fur as she purrs against him, biting when he stops. He tends to visit on the weekend as he knows there is no way his dorm can survive alone without him on the weekdays, especially with Riddle in charge. He may occasionally try to study while in the cafe but fails to focus for long, she once knocked his glasses off his face by nudging him too hard for attention but he forgave her and apologized to her. He enjoys the way you brew tea for him and makes sure to bring over small gifts for you, and experimental cat treats for your cats to have variety in their meals.
Overall he’s a very good guest. He may try to ask you for an extra treat or two since he can’t help it but he follows the rest of the rules and cats love him.
SAVANACLAW. ruggie bucchi.
RUGGIE BUCCHI.
“Shishishi, are you sure no longer hiring, prefect?” Ruggie asks as you shake your head, already satisfied with your current employees. “No, but thanks for applying, Ruggie. If I ever need someone though, I’ll call you first.” You say with a smile as he nods, coming into the cafe and feeling Pumpkin leap right into his arms the second he entered.
“And besides, if you were working here it would be hard to spend so much time with her, right?” You say, closing the door behind him as you scan the room, pointing to Leona who was hissing at Malleus. “I believe Leona should be right over there! Good luck getting him to go to the dorm leaders meeting.” You say, unsure if he were even listening anymore while petting his cat.
Ruggie was not one to believe in random luck of success. He thought you had zero business experience and would end up quitting within a week, but you didn’t. He had heard all these rumors and just had to check it out since it was the buzz of all other students. After randomly catching you in the halls he goes with you to Ramshackle before you opened, explaining to him the rules and what you had. You had high end pcs and manga? He wondered just how much that would sell for, surely you would not notice one or two of these books missing, right? His mind was more preoccupied on that as you two entered after you made it clear he was not to steal, knowing him. He was actually surprised by just how well you did, this looked like a professional cafe, not Ramshackle. Did you also say you would give him a free drink for being your friend, cause that’s what he heard whether you said it or not.
He was not actually too interested in cats at all, they were all sprawled out all over the place. Sure they were cute, but they were mainly just like Leona. Sleepy and grumpy all the time. As his eyes scanned the room Ruggie ended up spotting a familiar looking cat, as some of them were native to where he lived and prowled the streets looking for food. He thought they were hostile due to how the cats would often hiss and scratch where he lived, but this one was very friendly. Upon making eye contact she made her way and begun licking his fingers. She was so friendly! She were nudging him and pawing at him, crawling up his legs all the way to his arms, meowing louder and louder and acting cute for attention. He knew this cat knew how to flatter others as you gave him a cat treat to try and she was all over him and biting at it. He couldn’t help but laugh and want to play with her just a bit more, he would also take a cup of tea, too since it were free.
His favorite cat is a Sunset Savana (Somali) that has dusty orange-brown fur and bright green eyes. Pumpkin knows she’s a cute kitty and uses it to get his attention, stealing it from others with her soft purrs. She especially enjoys playing with cat toys and getting cat treats from him which comes off Leona’s tab. He claims he would never spend his precious money on a cat collar but surprise surprise her old orange leather collar is gone one day and she is wearing a dirty golden collar with white paw prints all over, and a silent bell. The collar is pretty basic but it is different enough from it’s original collar, it was nice enough for both him and her. Maybe in the future if she were still sticking by his side he would buy her bow or something else, but that would be coming from Leona’s wallet.
He does not play favorites and will pet basically any cat, but does have a soft spot for Pumpkin. He calls her spoiled for eating so much and living the good life, but feels like he can sympathize with her lightly as she used to be a stray before clinging onto you and living the life of luxury now. He does feed her cat treats with Leona’s tab, and gets drinks for himself too, he’s noticed a bit of cat drama going on behind the scenes while picking up Leona one weekend at your cafe and is living for it. Pumpkin is friends with Nebula and Oatmeal, both seem to want to play with each other but Leona and Malleus are enemies, holding their cats in their arms and refusing to let their children communicate in their presence. He’s commented on this to Leona who gave the most disgusted look and claimed Nebula would never like that lizard’s cat. Both he and pumpkin seemed to be laughing at that, with you commenting they were quite alike, just that she seems to be much more friendly and isn’t as self motivated as him.
Overall a good guest. He doesn’t disturb too many of the guests, he did try to steal from one once, but stopped after you threatened to kick him out. He may or may not still be taking from guests but without being caught now, however he gets along well with cats!
OCTAVINELLE. jade leech.
JADE LEECH.
“Ah, prefect. Perfect timing. It is my day off tomorrow and I was wondering if you were available for me to pay a visit?” Jade asked, a business smile presenting on his face. Raising a brow you rephrased what he was asking to yourself and answer. “If you’re asking if you can see Peanut, I’ll allow it. Just don’t bring more than three terrariums this time.” Knowing he would likely bring his latest one to show off to his favorite cat.
“Fufu, you seem to be able to read me quite well, prefect. I hope this means we’re closer now and that you’ll allow me to know you better too.” He said, opening his eyes to look at you as you rolled your’s. “Octavinelle is good at flattery but no more than four hours this time and make your own tea.” You retort, walking off in the direction of your next class as he eyes linger on you a little while longer. Maybe one day you’d realize he were serious about getting to know you better.
Jade was amused by your business idea and kept tabs on it, informing Azul of what was going on when they’d seen a decline of customers. He had never heard of this human concept and the fact it were something common in your world more had caught his attention enough to actually visit under the guise of checking up your cafe for information. He’s unsure what to expect and expects it to be unsanitary and loud but is pleasantly surprised how thought out everything is and how soothing the decor makes him feel. He greets you as you’re surprised he came, making small talk with you before purchasing what you called a cat popsicle and picking up a few cat toys to really “have a true cat cafe experience” as you’d called it.
It doesn’t take long for him to understand the appeal not just from an atmospheric standpoint as your beverages are not lacking in quality and the cats are all well behaved. He finds himself approached by all sorts of fascinating different breeds as he feeds the cat popsicle before playing with the remaining kitty using the cat toy. He finds this certain cat to be particularly endearing as he seems to have a bit of a birth defect with smaller legs than the other cats, asking you about it as you explain you also wanted to give this cat a chance at love. He wouldn’t say he’s smitten but he is amused by the way the cat walks and tries to play with the toy, eventually scratching at his pants before crawling onto his lap to try and reach the toy better, only for Jade to tease him and raise it higher. He’d never thought something so simple would entertain not only the cat but him as well as he finds himself doing just this for quite awhile.
His favorite cat is a Shaftlands (Siberian) that has brown and white fur and green-yellow eyes. He has a natural birth defect that makes it legs shorter resembling a munchkin breed and Jade finds this completely endearing. The cat is completely fluffy and warm in contrast to his colder body temperature and snuggles up to him whenever he visits, Jade can’t help but laugh whenever Peanut makes his way towards him as he helps the cat up onto his lap while he meows up at Jade demanding attention he rightfully deserves. Jade has changed his collar from a plain blue one to a cream white color with orange-golden mushroom prints around the collar, the bell being replaced with a fake leather chicken of the woods mushroom bundle. He can’t help but laugh yet love the way Peanut looks with it on.
He does play favorites and doesn’t get jealous because he knows he’s his cat’s favorite and may occasionally play with the other cats until they get bored, but he mostly pets Peanut. He buys an occasional cat popsicle, maybe once or twice a week as he lets the cat rest on his lap or beside him while he does his homework or paperwork. He’s also brought a few terrariums to show the cat that seems vaguely interested, nudging a glass as he tells them what a great choice they made, whispering an explanation of the contents and where he had foraged them. Despite his sharp teeth and smile Peanut seems to have no sense of weariness as he meows up at him as though speaking before crawling into Jade’s lap for a nap. He unfortunately can’t visit too often since he works at Monstro Lounge but will visit on an occasional day off when you’re closed just to explain his recent forages to his cat.
Overall a great guest that follows the rules and won’t disturb other guests, and he is very nice to his cat if you excuse the occasional comments he makes that sounds like he may be making fun of the cat, or the fact he brings terrariums into your cat cafe.
SCARABIA. jamil viper.
JAMIL VIPER.
Running your finger’s through Jamil’s hair you finish up making the braid and quietly clap to yourself at your hard work. You quietly open your phone and take a picture silently of the view right in front of you, soaking in the very rare occurrence. Jamil stirred ever so slightly in your lap as you placed your phone back down, mumbling ever so slightly as the cat in his hands snuggling against his chest also made a little squeak.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” You asked him as his eyes open up to meet your’s as he shakes his head slightly. “No, ah!” He said coming to the realization he fell asleep on your lap after a long day of practice. He shifted suddenly as his cat stretched, jumping out of his arms and glaring at him for waking her as he gave her a quick apology, pressing a chaste kiss against her forehead as she nudged against him, crawling back into his arms. You weren’t sure which was more precious, a sleeping Jamil or a half awake cat dad Jamil.
Jamil had originally thought of your cat cafe to be a disaster as Kalim had approached him asking if they could go. He did have faith in you, in a way, sort of, but don’t you think this was too much to handle, prefect? He has zero expectations that he would enjoy the place, only expecting it to be somewhere else he had to clean up after Kalim. He hesitantly agrees and after actually entering he’s bombarded with cats, a bit to his dismay. He was the one who did both him and Kalim’s laundry, the cat fur which would stick to them would be crazy. He’s a bit sullen by the thought but the atmosphere and guest room is truly surprising, it actually looks good. On top of that, it does feel really good to be served for once as you make him a coffee, even encouraging him to use a cat toy.
One cat is instantly attracted to him, plopping onto his lap lazily nabbing the toy. She wasn’t overly fluffy enough to shed on him, but her fur was in fact silky smooth as he ran his fingers through, stroking at her chin and stomach as she rolled over, looking at him with curious eyes. For a place with so many cats it was so quiet, enough to make him sleepy if he were not playing with the cat on his lap. Even Kalim was behaving for once, he had to give it to you prefect. He was pleasantly surprised by how quick he was to relax, the sounds of purring like music to his ears as he actually almost fell asleep from exhaustion, realizing just how frustrated he had been lately. He would have to come more often, as long as Kalim behaved that was, if this was the usual experience.
His favorite cat is a Shaftlands (Russian) Blue with black fur and bright green eyes. She’s rather soft despite the short coat, and is not too vocal, but purrs quite loudly once she gets started, spending most of her time napping over being hyperactive and is very low maintenance, which Jamil really likes as it is finally a breath of fresh air, very therapeutic for him. He had replaced her old grey leather collar with a dark brown leather collar that has black and golden snakes engraved, with piercing red eyes. Two snake heads from opposing ends seem to be gripping at the silent bell collar’s mouth as a pretty design, with a brown and a small gold bow in the back to not be too distracting when petting her.
He does play favorites, with subtlety. You know he does prefer short hair breeds and that he tends to favor the quieter cats, but he tends to not play with cats that don’t purr too much. His perfect fit is Cashew ultimately even if he will not admit this out loud out of embarrassment that he had become a cat person like this. He also enjoys coming pre-game to calm himself a bit and enjoys returning after his games. When he wins it feels like a well deserved break and when he loses it feels better than being angry about it in silence as his kitty purrs right against him. You have caught him nodding off a few times before and always try to make him as comfy as possible because you doubt some nights he is even able to get sleep at Scarabia with how often things seem to go wrong and his dorm students need him for help.
Overall a good guest! He’s very peaceful, gets his work done and sometimes tries to get Kalim to not try to move around too much as he pets his kitty!
POMEFIORE. rook hunt.
ROOK HUNT.
“Welcome back, prefect.” Rook smiled at you as he helped you with your groceries, bringing them into the back for you as you give him a quick greeting, kneeling and pressing kisses to the cats nuzzling against you and meowing. “Thank you. Have the kitties been good?” You ask as you look up at him, his arms now carrying an extremely fluffy and cuddly cat that was nudging him. Honestly it would be a cute scene if you actually let him in the begin with. You really needed to change your lock, you don’t know how he keeps getting in without telling you.
“They’re very well behaved, seems they’re as sociable as ever, Mon Trickster.” He replied, helping you up with his free hand as you made your ways towards the back. “Great, glad they’re all good. Since you’re here help me prepare won’t you?” You ask, intending to at the very least get free labor out of him. Maybe you’d actually keep the same lock for a bit longer if it meant a helping hand.
Rook had known you were making a cat cafe even before you had Idia investing. He was watching you stay after class from outside and begun reading your lips, asking Professor Trein if he knew where wild cats were. He of course followed you throughout your entire journey across Sage Island to find cats to make sure you were not attacked by anything feral. Eventually you noticed him and swore him to secrecy about the project until it was actually developed. He was pleased to have a special secret just between you and him even if momentary and helped you take the cats to vets to have all the work done, fascinated by your ideas and the little creatures. He wanted to know all the details of who else was helping you, how long you planned to stay open, your open and closed days, and he sung poetry about it while knee deep in the forest grass picking up a hissing cat.
He was fairly interested with that certain cat, she had kept biting at him, particularly attempting to scratch his face, and you were unsure to bring back as she may of been too feral. Rook assured you everything would be fine as he took care of domesticating the cats and getting them used to touch with you. He once returned and Vil nearly shrieked at him for having bite marks littered across his wrists, but he was smiling the entire time. You were still very unsure about this cat but both she and Rook seemed to have bonded and she calmed down quite a lot and eventually began politely meowing at him and actually going to him of her own volition, a completely glow up you were unsure was even possible considering her previous thirst for his flesh. He only smiled up at you from his kneeling position gently stroking her chin as she purred even louder.
His favorite cat was the former feral Harveston (Norwegian) forest cat that has black, white, and orange fur, with yellow eyes. She’s incredibly fluffy and has gotten pudgier in recent times but she’s very well groomed and doesn’t shed all over the cafe since Rook is the one personally caring for her. He makes sure to use products Vil recommends and likes and that her fur is always glossy, but he also does keep her away from Vil. She never had a basic collar like most of the other cats as he got her one himself, a dark purple-blue collar with gold bows and red arrowheads pointing towards where the silent bell is. Her bow in the back is sort of transparent and a little sparkly with a thin purple-ish fabric and gold stripes. Rook calls the collar Honeysuckle’s reward. He also tends to call her Honey as a nickname since you rejected Neige jr. Neige sr., Roi du Sauvage, or any other name he suggested.
He doesn’t play favorites as he treats all the cats equally, enjoying all their company. However, Honeysuckle thinks otherwise and claims him, every so often a little hiss coming from her lips as another cat approaches her human. He seems to find himself claimed and finds it to be beautiful. An animal seeking human companionship with the one that helped them adjust to domestic life, is there anything more sincerely breathtaking? He does give her a few cat treats but only because she needs to be a good weight and healthy since she didn’t eat much before. He has tried reading manga and playing games but those just aren’t his thing, he prefers telling Honeysuckle about the beautiful things he’d seen that day, including her, and shows her photos he had taken. He also tried to show her his bow but she ended up biting off the string and playing with the string so he learnt his lesson, hopefully. He’s actually trying to find out what kind of string is cat proof.
Overall a good guest for the cats but had unusual quirks. He may stare at some guests and watch them while gently stroking a cat in his arms while whispering to her what they’re saying or doing that was interesting and beautiful.
IGNIHYDE. ortho shroud.
“You look amazing in that gear, Ortho!” You say, clapping your hands as the boy gives you a twirl, excited to show off. “Thank you, prefect! My big brother helped me design it.” He said as you pat his head, happy to have him apart of the team to help you. “Everything he makes is always amazing.” You say as he agrees, happy his brother was praised.
Handing him a tray filled with drinks you don’t even need to tell him which table as he memorized it, heading off to the Ignihyde students gaming away at one of the pcs. “He’ll be fine it seems, Idia.” You say to your loyal customer as he watches Ortho with his face behind manga, squeaking as you spoke to him. “H-Hey I’m not that concerned, I believe in him too!” He says as you giggle, going to make him another juice.
Ortho found out as he was wherever his brother went. He heard his brother telling you about bringing cats to the guest room but was pleasantly surprised you actually did convert the room into a place for cats. He was even happier at the thought maybe you did it for his brother to be happy and even socialize at the thought of pcs and manga! He decided to help you with your plans, getting you materials you needed and staying with his brother who set up the mechanical parts of the cafe. You also allowed him to play with the cats as a thank you for helping you prepare for your cafe! He was ecstatic the first time he got to do so after you and Rook domesticated them properly.
He was so excited to play with kitties, pointing out their breeds and friendliness. As he played with them he noticed a cat from afar with such a genuinely sad face staring at him and he recognized the breed. You explained he was very shy of people still but was slowly getting used to them, and he found himself making his way over. The cat backed away slowly, but eventually came over to Ortho as you handed him a treat to use. He laughed as his parts tickled from tiny cat kisses and from then on he knew what the cat reminded him of, his big brother who tended to have the same look on his face when people saw and spoke to him.
His favorite cat is an exotic shorthair with white-grey fur and orange eyes, and it is 100% because the cat reminded him of his brother and partially claimed him. Taquito is very docile but doesn’t like spending time in large groups, feeling safer with Ortho and Idia. Due to this, Ortho tends to comparing Taquito and Idia, petting the cat and telling him about how his day has gone or what Idia did that day when he is not working. He does enjoy feeding him a lot of treats and since he doesn’t have a need for homework or really plays games and can download all sorts of manga info he spends most of his time working and mainly petting Taquito. Ortho had also gotten him a new collar, replacing the old blue one with a custom black collar with what looked like blue sparks engraved all over. The silent bell is replaced with a flame core’s resembling’s orthos in a yellow color like his eyes.
He tends to come over a lot with Idia even on your days off and has seen the other first years working at the cafe and asked you about it. After explaining to him he had also wanted to try working for your cafe, with Idia and your’s permission. Compared to the others he was a real fast learner and very good with the cats, along with customers. You’ve assigned him to a waiter position and to be in charge of Ignihyde students as they get nervous talking to the other first years. He even had Idia make him a work body that looks similar to the uniforms the other first years wear as well! Ortho and Idia also have no need for money or need anything from you, Ortho instead thanking you for getting Ignihyde to leave their dorm for once but you insisted on returning the favor so he sometimes asks you to cook for Idia so his brother doesn’t just eat instant ramen. Recently though you wonder if you’re cooking just for Idia or the group of men entering your dorm demanding food.
Overall a great guest and even better employee. He does not disturb the kitties and he’s a really positive employee that lightens your burden tenfold.
DIASOMNIA. lilia vanrouge.
LILIA VANROUGE.
“Prefect!” You hear a deep voice as you jump, hands on your shoulder from behind as you nearly scream, falling to your knees. “Khehehe.” You hear the culprit chuckle as you turn around, the diasomnia vice dormleader laughing at you as he got you again. “Geez, I’ve told you to stop doing that, Lilia!” You say while getting up, you should of known better that it was him.
“I’ll stop when it is no longer funny,” he says with a little chuckle. “Then I hope you stop finding it funny soon while you’re reflecting.” You say, a teasing smile on your face as he raises a curious brow. “You’re not going to see Saffron until you’re done reflecting.” You say, walking off as his eyes widened in shock. Wait a minute, prefect. You two can talk it out, right?
He came out of nowhere scaring you senseless while chuckling, inquiring about your new business venture that he’s heard so much about from Cater. Apparently the prefect was going around “collecting stray kitties and making a totally magicamable cafe that you just totes have to visit”, and he was one who had traveled to many places all over the world throughout his time of living, so of course he had to pay a visit. He’d never heard of a cat cafe before and wondered what promise your world’s concepts had to offer as he tagged along back to Ramshackle after your classes, listening to you explain the concept and rules while heading to your cafe. He found it hard to believe that it was your old guest room at first with how fast the wifi was! Those pcs over there were high quality and the latest model designed for gaming, so you actually did get an investor?
He was enjoying the design and atmosphere but upon seeing the kitties he was a little surprised by the sheer amount of them you had. He thought maybe ten as a stretch but you liked smug with over twenty cats. They just kept on coming. You never fail to amuse him, he thought while you were scooping one into your arms as they meowed at you intently, loudly purring against you as they nudged against your chin for pats. He found the scene cute but preferred the pcs over the cats until you plopped the cat into his arms telling him to take a seat, you’d fetch him something to drink. The cat was overly affectionate as he’d nip at Lilia, meowing even louder and pawing at his uniform reminding him of caring for little Silver. He had indulged in that train of thought for a little bit too long as he soon was reminded of his parenting days while cradling the cat, feeding him a treat. This soon evolved into the point where Lilia became a cat dad.
His favorite cat is a Shaftlands (Turkish) Angora with pure white fur and brown-yellow tinted eyes. He’s a very playful cat, slightly fluffy so he combs the cat over every so often when visiting. Saffron loves to tug at Lilia stealing his attention away from everyone, but his lack of coordination always makes him laugh after confirming the cat is okay, helping him into his arms or wherever he wanted to go to like a parent entertaining their child. Due to Saffron watching Lilia play games on the pc he decided to replace his old white leather collar with a new ombre green silk collar, with small white specks engraved. The collar has little weapons on then such as swords or mage books from the games he plays in black, replacing the silent bell with a bat wings in a dark black color and pink-red eyes.
He does play favorites and it is quite clear as his kitty crawls into his lap pawing at him. Lilia is also a pretty big gamer so on certain nights he logs in, he’s coming in early and staying out late as you bring him juice after juice, one hand petting his cat to sleep, the other furiously clicking away to kill his opponent. Sometimes he maybe lose due to his hand suddenly being nudged and nipped due to his kitty waking up and wanting his attention but he’s very engrossed in killing his opponent and looting, however he never blames Saffron since he thinks of the cat as a small child. Other times Saffron may also fall over after jumping onto different ledges, being a little uncoordinated but relatively safe, and Lilia always seem to catch him in time. He murmurs something about “reliving parenthood”, mildly concerning you as you decided to ignore the comment and pour him some juice. He says some really weird things.
Overall a good guest! He may occasionally let out an annoyed grunt while gaming and say his trash talk aloud, but almost every gamer in the world has gamer rage on occasion. The cats seem to be pretty fond of him at least!
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thank you for everyone’s support! part two seems to be quiet anticipated but my favorite is probably part three solely because of floyd’s kitty!! nothing makes me happier than floyd finding out about a hairless breed and then going it’s so ugly that is mine. I also plan on posting a au(?) brainrot tomorrow!
(≧∇≦). thank you to 130+ followers and all my reqs from a single post! (*´ω`*) i’m not too sure what to do for it, but thank you for the support!
©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.
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eamour · 1 month
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Hi i don't know if you'll reply/repost this ask but i really believe what i have to say is needed to help people in the manifestation community i am only sending this to you because you are one of the few active ones with a decent following that can get the word out..
The amount of complications people in this community have brought upon themselves is just infuriating and annoying the amount of creators/blog writers that come up with something new every week are just deceiving and preying on people who want to have a better life if you care i hope you'll post this.
Lies and overcomplications like;
'You shouldn't feel lack' 'don't focus on the 3d' 'know that you have it and go on with your life' 'this is the only way you can manifest' 'don't try to affirm or visualize it won't work its just endlessly affirming' 'feel it know' the amount of 3d and 4d 'live in imagination' is all a bunch of bs what Neville said is not the final! And you all seem to forget that
You can do all that and still get what you want sure! you can manifest this way too but why overcomplicate it?
(Yes there is a possibility that spreading this misinformation may not be necessarily intended to cause harm and might be just a misunderstanding from bloggers as well but it still causes to harm to those who are vulnerable and are just wanting to better their life and learn about manifesting)
None of this matters you are the only one who makes yourself manifest and there are many ways and you can use any way/method the problem on tumblr is people push only one way no you don't need to be fulfilled in imagination or 'know you have it and shut up in order to manifest sure Neville found a good way but its not the only way but the amount of people here who push this as if it's the only way and say if you don't do this you will never manifest are fcking playing with people's time and energy! i'm here to root for how far visualization affirming and robotic affirming goes,just for the average person its just such a quick and easy and 'failproof' way to 'get you desires' you don't need to hate the word 'get it' or something like that you don't have chase after knowledge or understanding to 'finaly manifest', when i went back to watching sammy and just affirming with no care about believe the thoughts no care about things like 3d or 4d no care about fulfilment or doing it to get it or anything like that...I've been carefree i don't worry at all...we are always learning about life and spirituality but you don't need an awakening or some sacred knowledge to manifest
You can read these posts that helped me but please no more,thats it no need to scroll and scroll and search for an answer
You don't need to read it all throughly just get the main idea you're good (most of them are short)
https://www.tumblr.com/imperfect777/744087420843245568/stop-scrolling-on-tumblr-twitter-pinterest-etc?source=share
https://www.tumblr.com/miracledarling/715265433528320001/the-key-to-manifesting?source=share
https://www.tumblr.com/sp0iledprincess55/744703729957257216/100-proof?source=share
https://www.tumblr.com/dreamsintoreality111/672119540555153408/hey-do-you-prefer-to-change-appearance-through?source=share
My tips and experience..
All this time after being kinda obsessed with the void state (don't even get why people renamed the i am state by Neville lol) trying all things but just being lazy giving up restarting and going back to the old way of thinking, thinking 'why i fail' but now looking back and realizing i just got distracted and stopped never persisted .... now i realize how easy it is but what tumblr was doing was just discouraging me all along so many people lied or were misguided and said 'don't endlessly affirm just decide' implying if you try affirming you'll do it endlessly and never have what u want.. and so i listened....i used to watch sammy after a few videos last year i joined tumblr for a few 6 months at some point i was just reading things which have already been said and read..so i quit and decided to delete tumblr to just actually apply because reading the same thing over and over is no use...i'm now watching sammy ingram again so this is what i vouch for, affirming and thoughts watching sammy ingram (if just deciding or knowing seems like its not for you sammy ingram is great and in my opinion if i also just know or decide its mine then by affirming aren't i just reminding myself..'knowing' & 'deciding' in a way too?) again sammy joe dispenza is more helpful compared to tumblr over 6 months... i have logged back after a month typing this rn to help people and will delete my acc today even the creators i used to follow haven't posted in weeks and i urge people to leave tumblr after a certain point please live your life.
posting this for everyone who is currently overcomplicating the law and beating themselves up for not "doing it right". ♡
i want to add something: you can believe in all of these things (such as "feeling it real" instead of "affirming to get") and if it works for you, that’s good! that’s quite literally the law. but if it’s the opposite for you, if you think that it’s too much work and you would rather robotically affirm to get your desire, then do that.
i have seen both sides on tumblr and twitter, and they are both successful. it’s up to you what you want to make work for yourself!!
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You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how has your opinion changed on Steven Universe now than when it first aired? Like I have fond memories of watching the show while it was airing but now I realize that it had a lot of problems that I feel like a lot of fans either flat out ignore or bend over backwards to make sure their rose tinted glasses stay on.
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... okay, fair question. Let's talk about this.
I'll try not to wax poetic too long, but there are a lot of things to be said here.
First and foremost - how has my opinion changed since the show has ended?
Simply put - it hasn't.
When I started watching Steven Universe over 7 years ago, I didn't have much knowledge of it. I sat down, saw a few of episodes and went 'well, this is a silly show for kids with a goofy but loveable protagonist... but it seems like it's also incredibly charming with its delivery and has some nice, more complex themes about loss and healing and grief throughout.'
And if you ask me what Steven Universe is now... I would probably say that exact same thing.
Am I wearing rose tinted lenses? Interesting question.
What ARE 'rose tinted lenses' in this context anyway?
What do these lenses represent? What do they obscure?
Since you didn't go into specifics, I can only assume what you're referring to when you say that many fans ignore the show's problems.
There have been many discussions surrounding various aspects of the show and how it might be read as 'problematic' (ahhh how I've come to despise that word.... without context, it has all the descriptive power of the word 'icky' - none of the critical details and all of the emotional punch of scrunching up your face like a cat that just sniffed a lemon...)
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Is this about something as simple as the 'SU doesn't have a consistent size for its characters' debate?
Because that has been gone back to, over and over again, and proven to be a point of opinion. SU favored allowing storyboarders to show off their personal flourish, and even though Peridot was 30% hair in that one episode, it did not overall take away from the plotline being told, which was their goal. If you wanted to watch a show with consistent styling throughout, you can always watch a 3D modeled show, but keeping that up was simply never one of SU's main pillars. And I feel like it didn't have to be.
Is this about something more complex such as the way Rose was presented?
...and how her arc was shown backwards instead of forwards - showing first the person she became in the end, and afterwards revealing all the growth she had to have to get there?
That was on purpose! And I don't think this is a problem. It's a feature, not a bug. Rose was never meant to be an ideal character - she was meant to be complicated and messy, and I think the fact that the fandom is so split in their opinions of her shows that the Crewniverse pulled that off really well!
She fucked over Bismuth! She forced Pearl to be silent! Those are both parts of her character arc that were never resolved because she died before she could resolve it - that's BY DESIGN. Sometimes, you just do something absolutely stupid and cruel, and you cannot go back to fix it.
Is this about the Diamonds? The fact that they were not put in space jail, after being put on trial for space crimes, and then publicly executed for space eco-genocide?
Here's the thing - most people I know who watched and loved SU are fully aware of that. But simply put - Steven Universe was not a story about Revenge.
Steven Universe was a story about love. A story about family. A story about truth, and lies, and hurt, and healing. About how sometimes healing doesn't happen. And how sometimes it will, but you won't be around to see it.
But it's not a story that can be all things for all people.
That is the thesis of my reply: It is a story.
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It is not a manifesto. It is not a bible. It is not a Complete Truth.
It is a single story. Made by a group of very talented people, who cared about these characters, who did their best. They made a funny, emotional, well-drawn and complex cartoon show about the things THEY personally wanted to tell stories about.
Does it answer all questions the way everyone wants them answered? No. That's impossible.
Everyone wants a different story. Everyone wants a different solution, a different resolution. A different ending.
Steven Universe is one story. It cannot satisfy all people.
So when you ask me 'has your opinion of Steven Universe changed'? The answer is 'no'.
I went in, expecting to see a story. I saw a lot of what I liked! I saw some parts which I thought were interesting. I saw some parts which, yes, I disagreed with a little.
But overall, it's a good story. And that's what I expected, and that's what I got, which means I'm pretty satisfied. I love that story.
I feel like recently, there's this expectation of media, to be Everything For All People. And it's a bit unrealistic. No one call tell the perfect story. We are all simply telling the stories we want to tell. And people will vibe with that, more or less.
A single story, made by a small group of people, will never be that for you. There will never be an Unproblematic Cartoon that you watch that will be devoid of things you disagree with.
Being critical of media doesn't mean 'Criticize the FUCK outta that media, and the one with the least criticisms is the best one'.
Critical thinking is about evaluating things critically - that means being critical of YOURSELF. Being critical of your OWN reactions. Asking 'why did I like this?' and 'why did I dislike this?'. Asking 'this doesn't mesh with me, but who WOULD it mesh with? It isn't for me, but who is it for? Who would it hurt, but also who would it help?'
Some people HATED how SU: Future ended. They beat their fists on the wall and cried about how Steven was leaving his family behind, and how THEY could never imagine doing something like that, and how he was running away from his problems just like Rose had.
Me? I loved it. I think it was the right choice, and I COULD imagine it and thought it was in character. I thought he needed to be his own person, instead of shouldering everyone else's responsibilities for once. Was one of us more right than the other? Maybe not? Maybe that was the whole point?
Loving things is not about putting on rose colored glasses. Sometimes, choosing to love something with flaws is an act of rebellion. It's about knowing you have differences, but understanding that there is value in the things you DO agree on, and knowing you can consume that.
Healthy consumption of media does not mean throwing the whole cartoon away as soon as you notice something is wrong with it, like a bruise on an apple.
Healthy consumption of media involves critical thinking AND feeding yourself. Acknowledging you may disagree with parts of it, but not starving yourself just because your apples all have small imperfections.
Eat, for fuck's sake. Feed yourself. You'll feel better.
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Thassit.
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creamhoodie · 10 months
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˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ Internet Cafe Love ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
synopsis: The white haired boy who regularly visits the same internet cafe as you becomes your boyfriend but can your relationship survive when his best friend seems distrustful of you?
warnings: 7,915 words (long one shot with multiple settings),Nagi X female reader, gamer Nagi, per fluff no smut since it is written while he attends high school still.
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You had often noticed the white haired boy at the internet cafe as he seemed to go nearly every night the way you did. 
While you also brought projects and subjects to study on the side when you were taking a break, you noticed he never took breaks, the clicking of the keyboard and mouse were constant companions. This had led to you bringing your own noise canceling headphones that were much more soundproof than the gamer ones that came with the PC set at the cafe.
That was your current situation, headphones in practicing a new writing style of kanji when you felt a light tapping on your headphones. You glanced up and towering over you was the white haired boy. He wore an oversized gray sweatshirt and black sweatpants. You moved your headphones around your neck. 
“Did you need something?” You asked, meeting his gray eyes. 
“Do you have any money?” He asked straightforwardly. 
“Money? What for?” You asked, looking him up and down again. He didn’t seem in need based on his lounge outfit and you now noticed the light up rainbow keyboard he had under his arm. It had gone unnoticed before since his tall domineering figure was the main spectacle. 
“Lemon tea. I wanna buy one from the vending machine but I’m low on money because I spent it all on this and the gacha games on my phone,” he said motioning to the keyboard.
You raised a brow at not only his abruptness but also his poor money management. You had some cash on you but weren’t too keen on giving it up since you planned on getting food at your favorite food stand after you left the cafe.
“Well I don’t have any money,” you said.
“Bummer,” he replied, not sounding convinced as he plopped down in the spot next to you and began removing the default keyboard and setting his own up to the PC. 
You bit the inside of your cheek, chewing on it a little to hide your annoyance. Now he was gonna be right next to you making all this noise. 
“Do you really have to sit here?” You asked. 
He looked over at you as the PC booted up, his gray eyes seeming slightly hurt.
“Is that a problem?” He asked. The way he asked made you feel guilty. Yes he was a bit eccentric and odd but so far he was harmless.
“No it’s fine,” you said. By now your kanji was forgotten and you watched as he opened a first person shooter game and signed into his account.
“God of soccer?” You teased regarding his gamertag. 
“Oh yeah I’m on the soccer team at Hakuho High School,” he said. 
This guy went to the elite prep school? He didn’t seem like the type. You yourself were in the neighboring public school.
“I wasn’t aware Hakuho had a team,” you stated as he loaded into a game. 
“My friend Reo and I started the club up so we’d have a team to go to nationals.”  His focus was now on his game however as he had chosen a sniper character. You watched as he hit every headshot. He was eerily good at the game and you didn’t miss how match chat came up with the enemy team accusing him of using aimbot. When his team won the game he exited the queue and remained on the menu and looked over at you as he had been aware you were watching the whole time.
“You’re really good, how long have you played that game?” You asked.
“Just a few months now,” he said, shrugging. 
“And you aim that good already?” You asked in disbelief. You weren’t half bad yourself and had always considered your aim to be impressive but his was godly.
“I grew up playing first person shooter games,” he said as if it was no big deal. He glanced at your notepad before adding, “what’s with the studying?” 
You blushed. 
“I alternate between studying and gaming,” you answered his question. 
“No, I mean I see you studying here all the time even when it’s not exam season,” he said. So he had noticed you before as well? That was to be expected as you were both regulars. 
“I just like to study consistently,” you replied. He made a face and you added, “you don’t? You go to Hakuho, surely that’s more rigorous than my public school.” 
“Well sure but I just study a few days before the exams. Hey, are you sure you don’t have any money? I could really use that lemon tea.” 
His delivery made you wanna laugh. He was easy going and charming all without meaning to be and yet he was still odd, you hadn’t ever met anyone like him before. 
“I'm still thinking about it. Do you have a name or is it just god of soccer?” You asked. 
He chuckled.
“My name is Seishiro Nagi. What’s yours?” 
“Y/N Y/LN,” you replied, telling him your first and last name as well.
“Nice,” he replied, “you wanna play some games?” 
The two of you were duos on the same team with him playing the sniper character again and you his support offering him both damage boosts and heals. Between both of your combined skills and efforts the two of you went on an eight game win streak. 
An hour of gaming had gone by even though it didn’t feel like it and the two of you decided to call it quits.
“So Y/N,” he started.
“No about the lemon tea,” you joked. He shook his head.
“Forget about that. I have a home game tomorrow at my school in the evening. The match starts at two. You should come,” he said. You noticed the slight pinking of his ears when he said it. 
“I’ll try to go,” you said. You did enjoy playing with him even though originally you had felt slightly annoyed by his presence. 
“You should, our school’s marching band is gonna be there too for the first time,” he said. He finished unplugging his keyboard and putting the original one back and stood up. He scrolled through his phone quickly before adding, “will you be back online tonight? Maybe we could play some more too.” 
You felt your heart somersault at how he sounded hopeful.
“I may but I’m not sure I don’t usually play late.” 
“Bummer. Hey Y/N?” 
You prepared to be asked about the damn lemon tea again. 
“What?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked shyly.
“No I don’t.” 
“Good keep it that way. I’ll see you online tonight,” he said quickly before waving bye and taking off. 
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You were back home in your room that night freshly showered and sitting on your bed getting ready to settle in for the night and watch TV. 
You heard a notification from your PC and received the notification on your phone as well through the gaming app. 
It was Nagi using the whisper feature where you could message online friends direct messages.
GodOfSoccer: get on 
You smiled at his eagerness. 
SleepyKoala: Kinda don’t want to I’m tired
GodOfSoccer: don’t care I wanna play with you 
SleepyKoala: Nagi we played so much today 
GodOfSoccer: true well are you coming to my game tomorrow? 
SleepyKoala: Yes
GodOfSoccer: WOHOO LETS GOOO 
GodOfSoccer: forgot to say earlier cute gamertag 
SleepyKoala: Thanks :) 
GodOfSoccer: give me your number 
You did and not even a minute went by before you got a message from him. It was a plushie of a koala on his desk next to his PC monitor. You also caught a view of the rainbow keyboard from earlier. You created a contact ID for him and added a koala emoji to the end of his name. 
You: Cute plushie 
Nagi: he says thank you. I’m gonna game a bit I’ll see you tomorrow 
You: see you 
You then settled at last to watch more of the Netflix show you were currently binging until you lulled to sleep. 
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The next morning you woke up at noon having slept in later than you would have liked. After doing your morning routine and eating, you made your way to the supermarket to buy a lemon tea for Nagi. 
You hadn’t been able to ignore the butterflies that you had gotten thinking about him. You had checked his online status and had noticed he had stayed up until one in the morning gaming. 
Supermarket mission successful, you began to make your way to Nagi’s high school. You had timed your schedule perfectly so the metro would arrive at 1:30 giving you enough time to head to the stadium before the game started. Your outfit of choice was casual with a tote bag to hold the lemon tea and your noise canceling headphones though you doubted you’d need them. 
Arriving at the school on time you couldn’t help but notice how much more expensive everything seemed. You knew it was an elite academy but as you followed the crowd into the stadium you noticed just how much the school invested into its extracurriculars. 
“Y/N!” 
You turned around and there was Nagi coming up to you. 
“Hey Nagi,” you replied feeling slightly shy from your flirtatious exchanges with him. 
“You like the stadium? Reo’s dad is this mega rich guy and he donated the funds and manpower to build it. He doesn’t care for soccer but he frequently donates funds to the school for them to use for whatever purpose they’d like.” 
You nodded. He looked handsome in his soccer uniform, the black jersey, shorts and black socks contrasting against his white hair and skin. 
“Oh before I forget, since you kept asking yesterday,” you said, taking the tea bottle out of the tote bag and giving it to him. That made him laugh in glee.
“Thanks for this,” he said gratefully. 
“Nagi! We need to warm up!” A purple haired figure shouted as he ran over. When he caught up to where the two of you were his equally purple eyes were distrustful of you. 
“Reo. This is Y/N. Remember I told you about her?” Nagi said. 
So this was Reo? His suspicious eyes took you all in.
“Yeah I remember. Nice to meet you,” he said but his words didn’t match his tone or expression.
“Nice to meet you too. Nagi’s talked a lot about you as well,” you said and you noticed that did soften his eyes a bit if not fully. 
Nagi seemed oblivious. 
“Y/N, if you sit there you’ll have a good view of me,” he said pointing to a specific section before continuing, “and I want you to look at me not any of these other guys.” 
His words sent a jolt of heat between your legs and to your face but you simply nodded and assured him you’d be watching him. 
“Nagi,” Reo scolded impatiently, “we have to warm up.” 
“Alright alright,” he said following him but yelling back to you, “stay after. Text me if you can’t find me.” 
You headed to the section he had designated would have the best view of him. 
Throughout the game Nagi had lived up to his gamertag. He truly was a god of soccer. He was lightning bolt fast his legs moved just as fast as you had seen his fingers were capable on the keyboard. 
He also worked incredibly well with Reo. They were a dynamic duo on the field and the passes between them were strategic. 
When Nagi had scored a goal he had looked directly at you and pointed, unmistakably claiming it had been for you. 
His team was in the lead right now and you hoped it would remain that way. 
During the halfway break, you waited eagerly waiting to see him again. When they came back his eyes searched for you instantly and met yours sending you a sweet smile. As expected his team won and you cheered happily for him. As others started leaving the stadium you waited for him afterwards like he had asked you to. 
You didn’t have to wait longer than ten minutes. He was racing towards you, changed clothes, freshly showered and his gym bag over his shoulder. To your dismay you noticed Reo tagging along behind. It’s not that you didn’t like him, you just didn’t understand his scowls and distrustful attitude toward you.
“Y/N! Did you like the game?” He asked, standing in front of the railing of the seat you had remained at. 
“I did. It was so great seeing you score,” you said. 
“I wanted to score for you,” he said, his cheeks turning pink. “Hey Reo and I are gonna go get something to eat. Do you wanna come?” 
Your eyes dashed to Reo a second after Nagi asked the question and you could tell he was exasperated.
“That’s okay I think I’m just gonna head home,” you said softly. 
Of course you wanted to spend time with Nagi but you couldn’t risk Reo disliking you even more after all he is Nagi’s best friend his opinion must count for something. 
Nagi, still oblivious to all this, furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Okay. Well when can I see you again?” He asked. He seemed hurt that you weren’t coming. 
“I’m free tomorrow. Maybe text me later and we can come up with something,” you offered, not feeling comfortable under Reo’s purple gaze. 
“Okay I will. Thanks for coming, it really means a lot,” he said, giving you a sideways hug now as you stepped down from the bench you had been sitting at. He towered over you and he smelled incredibly good. 
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed every minute of it.” 
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“So how long have you and Reo known each other?” You asked as you took another mouthful of ramen. When you had gone home yesterday you had gotten caught up on school work and chores. Nagi had texted you at night and asked if you wanted to play some games to which you had agreed. Somewhere between steam rolling the enemy teams and playing silly custom games in the arcade he had suggested going out for ramen and boba the next night.
Now as the two of you sat in the restaurant’s outdoor patio seating with red paper lanterns illuminating the night sky you were interested in knowing more about his best friend who didn’t seem to take to you. 
“Not too long. I met him here at school probably six months ago,” he replied. 
“He seems very fond of you,” you said. 
Nagi shrugged.
“Reo got me into soccer and I have him to thank for that. Before him no one really talked to me at school.” 
This surprised you. He was good looking and charming, sure a bit strange and had his quirks but he was friendly and good company.
“Really? Not even girls?” You teased. 
“Especially girls,” he joked back. His gray eyes were looking at you softly. It gave your stomach butterflies. Lately it seemed like all he did was either give you butterflies or make you belly laugh. His hand reached out to lift your chin up so you were forced to meet his gray gaze head on. 
“You always look away from me when you notice me looking at you. You never look at me for too long,” he said in a gentle tone. 
“I don’t mean to on purpose,” you said trying to be casual although the thumping of your heart was a great contrast to the calm you were trying to portray. 
“I like when you look at me and when you watch me play video games and soccer,” he said, inching closer to bridge the gap between the two of you as you sat on opposite ends of the table. 
Was he going to kiss you? It seemed like that was his intention. You wanted to kiss him but worry and concern and feeling Reo’s stinging rejection you pulled your chin from his hand and looked away. When you glanced back at him he wasn’t looking at you for once but looking down at his lap with clear hurt in his eyes. 
“I thought you liked me too,” he said with embarrassment coloring his voice. You couldn’t take him thinking you were rejecting him, not when he was perfect and sweet and everything you could ever want.
“I do like you!” You said. 
“Then why won’t you let me kiss you? I want to so badly,” he asked in desperation.
“Reo-“ you started but he didn’t let you finish.
“Oh,” he said, sounding deflated, “do you like him or something?” It was obvious he was trying to sound nonchalant but jealousy threatened to burst through.
“No no I don’t. I mean I don’t dislike him. He’s your best friend so I don’t have anything against him. I just don’t like him in the way I like you,” you stammered. His response had thrown you off completely because it was the last thing you had expected him to say. 
“You don’t like him? Lots of girls do because his dad is that rich guy and girls think Reo is good looking,” Nagi said. 
“No, I don't see him that way. I like you,” you said, face flushing at your confession. 
“I’m confused. What does Reo have to do with you not letting me kiss you then?” 
“It’s just. Reo doesn’t seem to like me. He looks at me as if he’s distrustful and suspicious,” you said. 
Nagi instantly relaxed and laughed.
“Oh that’s just how he is. He’s very overprotective of me. It’s nothing personal he’ll grow out of it once you’re around more,” he said. 
While Nagi’s words assured you, you still found the whole bit a little odd but maybe that was just their friendship. Maybe Reo saw Nagi as a brother he looked out for. You decided to focus on the latter part of his sentence. 
“Once I’m around more?” 
At this he reached out across the table taking your hands in his.
“You know how I asked you if you have a boyfriend?” He asked playfully.
“Yes it wasn’t that long ago Nagi,” you replied.
“Well I want to be your boyfriend,” he said. He looked at you from under his long eyelashes, his gray eyes so sweet and vulnerable. 
“Well I don’t know this guy at the internet cafe told me to not go getting a boyfriend,” you teased.
“What a little prick he probably wants you for himself,” he went along with your joke. 
The two of you laughed before he spoke again, 
“Can I be your boyfriend? I promise to be good.” 
“Yes you can be Nagi,” you replied. 
“Awesome. Can I kiss you now?” He asked practically whining.
“Yes Nagi,” you laughed but your lips were soon overtaken by his. The kiss was sweet and made your head spin. 
You wondered if this is what it meant to be on cloud nine. 
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Your routine for the past few weeks had become Nagi centered. 
You continued to go to the internet cafe regularly. In fact that’s where you spent the most time with Nagi since you still went to different schools. You would go watch him practice and go to his games, he had even given you one of his jerseys to wear and he was strict about you wearing it to each match. You’d stay up on video chat with him as well and watch as he streamed his games for you when you were too tired to play with him yourself. 
As for Reo, there wasn’t any progress to be made there as the two of you were still virtually strangers but at least his scowling had  toned down. 
“I wanna see you more often,” Nagi said, his lips kissing the top of your hair as you hugged him bye at the end of practice. 
“We see each other nearly everyday, Nagi,” you laughed. However he did have a point since the majority of the day you were at different schools you only saw him in the evenings at the internet cafe, at his practice, or when he had games on the weekends. You were also busy studying a lot of the time as well and still not feeling comfortable enough to hang out with him and Reo who was often around. 
“Why don’t you stay over this weekend?” He asked but was trying to hide the shyness he felt from asking. 
“You mean like at your dorm?” You asked. 
“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. 
You thought about it, you were so comfortable with him you didn’t have any objections and most of all Reo wouldn’t be there. 
“Sounds like a plan.” 
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“This is Choki,” Nagi said, motioning to a little cactus in a pot on his desk. You had your travel bag with you around your shoulder and had taken the metro to go to Nagi’s dorm in the late evening. 
He had met you at the stop and walked you back to his room. 
“It’s very cute,” you said. He was eye level with the cactus smiling at it. 
“He is very cute not it,” he replied defensively. 
“Yes he is cute,” you corrected, continuing to look around his room.
For a dorm room it was quite spacious but that was to be expected of the elite school. His bed was made and neat with a plush dinosaur throw blanket folded neatly on the comforter. He had a television in his room on a stand next to his desk where his PC was. His PC setup consisted of the rainbow keyboard and the koala plush and Choki next to it, and a gaming chair. He also had a mini fridge with a magnet holding up a photo of Reo and him that was taken on a Polaroid camera. Towards the entrance of the room there was a sink and mirror and the toilet was secluded in a cupboard-like closet separate from the full walk-in closet that held his clothes. The room was illuminated blue from the LED lights he had. 
“What do you think of my room?” He asked tentatively as he watched you inspect the place. 
“I like it. It seems very comfortable and clean,” you replied.
He let out a sigh of relief.
“Good because I cleaned it before you came over. I’m not a slob or anything but I can get disorganized because I procrastinate,” he explained. 
You nodded but felt yourself blushing as now the full prospect of being alone with him was setting in. 
“You wanna watch a movie?” He asked. 
“Sure,” you replied. 
He grabbed the remote and laid back on his bed, kicking off his shoes while doing so.
“You can lay down you know,” he teased watching as you stood there. You followed his lead and also took off your shoes, dropping your overnight bag on the floor and laid down next to him. Gently he brought you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair. He flicked through movies on the streaming service.
“Do you have a preference?” He asked. 
“We can watch whatever,” you replied. He chuckled.
“You’re not helping here,” he teased but then settled on an animated movie about animals. He started the film and then put the remote down, his arms still holding and caressing you. 
“Is this okay? I want you to be comfortable with me,” he asked. You could hear the vulnerability in his question however and knew that it would hurt him if you didn’t want him to touch you. Fortunately, you did enjoy his comfort and warmth. He felt like a bear hug. 
“It’s okay I’m comfortable like this,” you assured him. 
You watched the movie intently but your heart still pounded in excitement from his closeness and you wondered if he could hear it.
He watched the movie as well, occasionally peppering kisses into your hair or chuckling when he found something funny. It was peaceful and not awkward in the slightest. You enjoyed this comfort only Nagi could bring. If it were any other guy you’d worry about his intentions but when Nagi said watch a movie and spend time with you he meant it, not trying anything else besides cuddling.
Towards the end of the movie you heard slight snoring and looking up you saw Nagi had fallen asleep. He looked more boyish when sleeping. You watched the rest of the movie and when it finished you turned the tv off. Nagi was still fast asleep but you didn’t mind, taking it as a sign that he felt comfortable around you. Ever so carefully you moved out of his arms and went to brush your teeth using his sink. You then used his walk in closet to change into your oversized tee and shorts for sleeping. When you came back you saw Nagi blinking in confusion from having woken up. 
“I thought you left,” he said sadly.
“No Nagi, I was just changing. You fell asleep towards the end of the movie.”
“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he rushed to get his words out but you were quick to assure him.
“It’s okay, I thought it was sweet. I didn’t wanna wake you but I already brushed up for bed.”
He looked you up and down in your pajamas and his eyes softened. He repositioned himself so he was now laying in the bed underneath the sheets and blankets.
“Come snuggle with me. It felt so good having you in my arms.”
You obeyed his words and got into bed with him facing towards him. His  eyes looked at you lovingly.
“I love having you here. I got up early today to clean my room and make sure everything was perfect. That’s partly why I fell asleep but most of it was because of you. Cuddling you and smelling the nice scent of your hair was so relaxing.”
His way of declaring loving and saying things so openly with his childlike innocence was so endearing to you. Other guys were much more guarded and wouldn’t admit such things out of fear of vulnerability but Nagi just said what he always thought. 
“I love being here with you Nagi, you make me feel so safe,” you replied truthfully.
He pouted a little.
“You know you can call me baby or honey or anything you want,” he said. 
“Okay baby,” you said, giggling a bit. It was still new and felt a little strange coming out of your mouth. 
“Hey what’s funny?” He asked before adding: “you’re my baby and I’m yours and that’s that.”  He pulled you closer to him as you laughed.
“You’re right baby, you’re so needy,” you joked. 
He pouted again but it didn’t last long because he kissed you nice long and slow. He tasted so good like mint and just Nagi, his ocean breeze scent intermingling with the kiss. Your hands felt his soft white hair as you kissed and he moaned a little into your mouth. 
When your kiss broke you gazed at each other. 
“You mean everything to me,” he said, cupping your cheek. You curled up closer in his arms so he could snuggle you again how he had loved.
“You mean so much to me too,” you told him. He yawned.
“I wanna sleep with you again, it felt so good. This feels so good, but don’t get any ideas. I brushed my teeth before you got here,” he said. 
That made you belly laugh and swat him a little in laughter.
“What? It's true I always brush my teeth right before I see you. I want you to like me,” he said innocently.
“I do like you,” you said. In fact you were starting to think you more than liked him and as you both dozed off to sleep you heard him say the words you had been thinking out loud and it was the last thing you heard before being overtaken by sleep. 
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“I’ll be here waiting,” you told Nagi as he ran off towards the locker rooms to change for practice.
This morning you had woken up completely entangled and cuddled into him. His long legs had interlaced yours and after very prolonged kisses and cuddles you had gone out for miso soup for breakfast at a little restaurant nearby then returned to the high school campus for his practice. 
“I was almost starting to think he wasn’t gonna show up,” a voice said behind you. You turned around and Reo was standing behind you on the field already dressed in his uniform for practice.
“Reo, where did you come from?” You asked wondering how the two of you hadn’t noticed him on the way in.
He ignored your question and you felt small under his violet intense eyes. 
“You know Nagi is never late for practice. He’s usually here early with me,” he said in an accusatory tone. 
“Yeah sorry about that it’s just-“ you stammered but he cut you off.
“It’s just you were with Nagi last night and because of that he was thrown off routine this morning,” he finished for you. By now you felt yourself growing frustrated with him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t make any effort to know you, your only mutual connection was Nagi and he seemed hell bent on disliking you.
“Reo what is your problem with me?” You asked out of genuine curiosity and frustration.
He seemed more than happy to tell you.
“My problem is that ever since you’ve come into Nagi’s life he’s been changing. It all started with him wanting to spend more time at the internet cafe and when he told me it was because of some girl I knew it would become a problem,” he said. 
Nagi had been spending more time at the internet cafe not to play games but because he had wanted to see you? He had noticed you before he had even spoken to you and liked you? If it weren’t for this confrontation with Reo now you’d relish in that fact more.
“How is it a problem? We’re not doing anything wrong,” you said in an effort to defend yourself. 
“Maybe not, but Nagi isn’t like other guys, surely you’ve noticed that. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s a good guy. I don’t need you hurting him when he’s already changing for you,” he said.
“Changing how?” You said not fully understanding. 
“He’s more motivated. Before you I had to do everything for him because he thinks everything is a hassle. He showers after every game now because he knows you’re there waiting for him, he cleans his room because he knows you’re coming over, he does those things he normally wouldn’t wanna do because he has you in mind.” 
“Isn’t that a good thing?” You asked. 
Reo’s gaze was still sharp. 
“Maybe so but if you hurt him I’m worried he’s gonna be worse than before. Before he was just lazy after you hurt him he’ll just be unmotivated and depressed.” 
Your heart hurts at the thought. 
“I’m not gonna hurt him,” you said quietly. 
Reo didn’t seem convinced. 
“You and I both know that’s not how relationships work. Eventually you’ll hurt him and when you do I’ll never forgive you.” 
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GodOfSoccer: where did you go after practice? I thought you were gonna wait for me but Reo said you left early :( 
You saw the whisper message come through the game server as you loaded up the game to play. You had set your status to offline but Nagi was savvy enough to know when you were online. 
SleepyKoala: I didn’t feel good 
GodOfSoccer: do you need me to come over? i can take care of you 
SleepyKoala: No it’s okay 
GodOfSoccer: do you wanna play a few games? 
SleepyKoala: I think I just wanna play by myself 
GodOfSoccer: oh alright 
GodOfSoccer: good luck in your games :) 
GodOfSoccer went offline
You sighed as you watched him go offline and you knew you had hurt his feelings despite his good natured response. Nagi was never offline and he wasn’t the type to set his status to offline so you knew he was really not gonna play games tonight which didn’t bode well. You didn’t mean to hurt him, it's just you couldn’t get Reo’s words out of your head. He’d never forgive you if you hurt Nagi? You’d never forgive yourself. He was so good and sweet and pure and Reo was right that relationships were messy. Did you really want to be the one to give Nagi his first heartbreak? 
You tried to play a few games but it was futile, the game had grown stale without him. 
You logged off and crawled into bed. Soon it began to pour outside and it reflected your inner state. 
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The next two weeks were exam season so luckily you had an excuse to not be around Nagi as often. 
You stopped going to the internet cafe altogether and instead went to your school’s library to study. These days you only saw Nagi at his games and though he was understanding about it because he knew you had to study you could tell he was sad.
The two of you still texted at night but the conversation grew stale as Nagi wasn’t always the best texter and from your experience with him you knew that comfortable laid back atmosphere of being at peace with him was something text couldn’t capture. Text was made for talking and it forced this dynamic where it felt as if you always had to come up with something to say and often times the best moments with Nagi were just being able to enjoy each other’s presence. 
When you got home from school one afternoon you had noticed a bouquet of flowers waiting for you on the porch table. 
You had taken the flowers to your room and put them in a vase with water. You got your phone out to text him. 
You: Thanks for the flowers 
Nagi: you’re welcome. I know you’ve been working hard studying and I wanted you to have something to brighten up your desk. 
Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness and again you wondered why you were being so distant. You knew it wasn’t fair to him but what Reo said really got to you. You knew he was only looking out for his best friend but you were worried you were really going to be the one to hurt Nagi. 
Nagi: I miss you :( 
Nagi: Are you coming to my game tomorrow? 
You felt overwhelmed by it all. The flowers, his double texting, and all the while you still felt Reo’s disapproving eyes on you as if he were watching you now. Part of you thought maybe it was better to back out of things early on before they got any deeper. Maybe then Nagi wouldn’t be as hurt. It was that rationale that led to your reply:
You: Sorry I can’t. I have to study now more than ever. 
Nagi: oh okay
He didn’t say anything more after that. 
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When you woke up the next morning you had ten missed calls from an unsaved number. You also had text messages as well. You unlocked your phone in confusion. The messages read:
It’s Reo, are you awake? 
Nagi is hurt he got hurt at the game 
He’s been crying for you and wants you here
You instantly called the number back. 
“Reo what’s wrong? Where are you guys?” You asked, your panic and worry not giving you time to feel weird about calling him. 
“We’re headed to a nearby medcenter clinic that's across the school. You can meet us there,” he said then hung up. 
You raced outta bed and got dressed quickly. You didn’t bother to eat breakfast as all you could think about was how you hadn’t been there for Nagi. You were so worried and your heart hurt. 
The ride on the metro seemed obnoxiously long despite being the same as always. You anxiously tapped your fingers along your thighs the whole way there. 
At last you arrived and headed toward the clinic Reo had described. You felt nervous and shy as a nurse directed you to what room Nagi was in when you asked and told her you were his girlfriend. 
In front of his door you hesitated a little bit not knowing what to expect. How hurt was Nagi? Would he be upset with you for not being there for him? The only answers you’d get would be through that door. 
You pushed the door open slowly. 
Nagi was laying down in bed with his right ankle wrapped in med bandages and an ice pack against it. He perked up instantly when he saw you.
“Hey I knew you’d come,” he said. This wasn’t what you expected. He wasn't upset with you at all.
“Reo said you asked for me,” you said, noticing how the room was devoid of any purple. 
“I did. I needed my girl,” he said. His words tugged at your heartstrings as you walked closer to the bed so you were right beside him. 
“Where is Reo?” You asked. 
“He went to get us some food from the cafeteria and call my parents,” he said. You stroked his hair. 
“So how bad is it?” You asked. 
“Not too bad it’s just a sprained ankle but it hurt like hell when it happened. It should heal quickly,” he said. 
You nodded and stopped stroking his hair. 
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened,” you said. 
He shrugged but you could tell he was a little downcast even if he didn’t say it.
“It’s okay I know you’ve been busy,” he said. There was an awkward tension in the air that you knew was your doing. You were the one that had been distant lately. You just didn’t want to hurt him but it seems like you already were. 
“How long are you gonna be here?” You asked.
“Reo wants me to stay for a few days for some reason since he thinks I won’t take care of it but I told him I have you to take care of me,” he said beaming up at you his smile wavered when you didn’t react and added,”you will take care of me won’t you?” 
You wished he hadn’t asked that with his begging gray eyes that looked at you with the eagerness of a puppy.
“Nagi I’m just really busy right now, maybe Reo is right,” you said softly. His face fell.
“Why don’t you wanna be around me anymore? Am I doing something wrong? Am I spending too much time on soccer?” He asked. 
“No Nagi it’s not like that-“
“Bullshit. I know you have to study but you always did before and we were able to see each other. I’ve tried to be a good boyfriend and spend time with you by letting you stay over. I just don’t know what I did,” his voice almost broke. You reached for his hands but he pulled them away.
“Nagi, you didn’t do anything. I love being with you and spending time with you,” you said. He looked at you again, his eyes ever so stormy and sad.
“Then tell me the truth,” he pleaded. 
You swallowed, you'd tell him the truth but you didn’t want to make Reo look bad after all he was his best friend. 
“You remember the morning after I slept over and we went to your practice?” You started reluctantly.
“Yes,” he replied, understandably confused.
“Reo started talking to me and saying this stuff about how he’s scared I’ll hurt you. He told me how you’re already changing for me and taking initiative and doing things you normally wouldn’t like: showering after your games and waking up early to clean your room. He’s worried I’ll break your heart and you’ll be unmotivated and depressed.” 
There was silence for about a minute after you told him this. He was the first to break it.
“He really told you I didn’t shower after games before you?” He asked.
“I guess he kinda implied it,” you said wondering why he focused so much on that part. 
“Well that’s embarrassing,” he said with a wry smile before adding,”you don’t have to worry about hurting me.” He reached for your hand now and brought it up to his lips to kiss softly. 
“Why aren’t you more concerned about this? Reo is right. Relationships are messy and people get hurt and I don’t want to hurt you ever,” you said shivering at how his lips felt against your skin. 
“Reo is cynical. Yes people get hurt but I don’t wanna close myself off from you just because something may or may not happen.” He kept your hand laced in his and that’s how the two of you stood until Reo himself walked in a few moments later. He had two trays of sandwiches that he set down and seeing the state the two of you were in he asked: “Am I interrupting?”
“No Reo, I actually wanted to talk to you. Why have you been telling my girlfriend that she’s gonna hurt me?” Nagi asked in a conversational tone.
Reo glanced at you before looking back at Nagi.
“Nagi, you know everything I do is to protect you. I don’t want you getting hurt. You know how the girls at school are,” Reo replied. 
You didn’t understand this and looked curiously at Nagi but he ignored you.
“She’s not like that, she's nice to me and sweet and I need the two of you to get along otherwise you’re hurting me both,” he said firmly. 
At last you and Reo looked at each other, his last words resonating with both of you so there was no malice or ill will in the others eyes.
A nurse interrupted, coming in and saying she was going to change Nagi’s bandages to freshen them up before he left for the night and you and Reo were ushered into the hallway. 
“Thanks for coming,” Reo said genuinely once the door closed behind the two of you. 
“You’re welcome. I really care about him,” you said. 
“Yeah I can see that,” he said, running a hand through his hair that was loose out of its usual ponytail. 
“I didn’t mean to snitch on you or anything like that. I only told Nagi because he was asking why I was being so distant,” you said to him. He nodded in understanding. 
“No it’s fine I knew something was up when he was bumming around and blue because you weren’t around all of a sudden. It’s my fault,” he said. Now that he wasn’t looking at you with suspicion he seemed friendly and you could see why he got along with Nagi. 
“I know you were just trying to protect him since he’s your best friend,” you said.
“Still I shouldn’t have said anything to you like that or in that way. The last thing I wanted was for Nagi to be sad but I seemed to have caused it by you being distant. I've never seen him so down like that before.” His words made you feel guilty, after all you had only distanced yourself in order to not hurt him. 
“What did you mean by that comment about girls at your school?” You asked him. 
“Girls at school think Nagi is weird. Well, not just the girls but everyone does. He sticks to himself and he’s not concerned with impressing people the way everyone else is,” he said. 
You did know Nagi was a bit odd but he was endearing and now you knew why Reo was so protective of him. He was very attractive as well so you had truly thought he was joking when he had said that girls especially don’t talk to him. 
“Reo I wanna be able to get along. I don’t wanna stay away from Nagi because I care about him,” you said, deciding to call for a truce.
“Yeah that sounds good to me. I guess I  judged you unfairly and like Nagi said he wants us to be able to get along. It’s just always been him and me so I have to get used to it,” he said. 
You assured him you didn’t wanna ruin his and Nagi’s friendship and that of course they’d still be able to do the things they’ve always done. When the nurse came out of the room you both went back inside to find Nagi playing games on his phone in his typical fashion. 
You and Reo smiled at each other both knowing this was a sign he was recovering. 
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“I never said thank you,” Nagi said, stopping in his tracks as you both walked in the park.
It had been three weeks since his injury and he had recovered with you by his side. These walks with him had been a form of physical therapy but once he had healed they had stuck around as a routine thing for you two. 
“For what?” You asked. 
“For accepting being my girlfriend. I had liked you for a long time before I spoke to you and I was always too nervous to do so,” he said. He looked wonderful surrounded by the cherry blossoms of the trail you too were on. It had been his idea to go cherry blossom viewing with you and he had been looking forward to it for weeks even drawing a little blossom on your calendar for this date. 
“You’re welcome. Reo had told me about how you had started spending more time at the internet cafe because of me,” you said. A blush the color of the blossoms formed on his cheeks.
“The only downside to you and Reo being friends now is that he tells you all the embarrassing unfiltered things about me,” Nagi said but you could tell it meant a lot to him that you and Reo got along. 
In the weeks following Nagi’s injury you had stayed with him at his dorm and took care of him and Reo would come over in the evenings and all three of you would binge watch shows and movies you took turns picking. Of course you and Nagi continued to support Reo by watching him practice and coming to games as well while Nagi was healing. 
“I don’t think it’s embarrassing. It’s sweet you like me so much,” you said. 
He reached out to cup your face in his hands in the way he was so fond of doing. 
“I more than like you,” he said seriously before adding,”I know you were scared of hurting me but the truth is I’m not scared to be hurt if it’s by you. I wanna be with you always.” 
Your head was spinning at the way his eyes penetrated into yours. 
“I more than like you too,” you said shyly. He looks at you lovingly before leaning in to kiss you. 
When he pulls away he looks into your eyes and tells you those three words you had sworn you had heard before you had dozed off to sleep when you had slept over: “I love you.” 
This time as he kisses you again even though it feels like it, you know you’re not dreaming.
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the-kr8tor · 1 month
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I finally caved in. Hello Katy may I request cowboy Hobie with a farmer reader who live on a ranch together. (That’s the main idea but you could change or add anything also your choice to make it angsty/fluff etc.). 🤠
Cowboy! Hobie request let's gooooo!!! Thank you for requesting! 😘
Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Cowboy AU, Western AU, established relationship, lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
You're ogling. It's not a crime to ogle your partner per se but with how your horse Luna is currently side-eyeing you whilst you brush her mane, ogling should be illegal. Or at least in your shared ranch. How could you not ogle Hobie when he looks like that?
You sigh deeply, eyes shaped like hearts at his glistening chest. Sweat dripping on his skin like tiny diamonds sparkling in the heat of the golden sun. His arm muscles are prominent as he heaves heavy hay bales over his shoulder. The blue jeans he's currently sporting hugs his legs perfectly like it was tailored only for him. Belt buckle glimmering, a dark cowboy hat protecting him from the sun, and dark cowboy boots to match— you should be arrested by how your eyes are glued to him and him only— even though your animals need your attention.
He knows that you're staring with how his pierced lips subtly curl into a smirk and how he's currently making an effort to stay in your line of sight even though the hay bales definitely don't need to be placed a few feet away from the field to the barn. He has been going back and forth for a while that he feels like his feet have carved a path on the dusty field.
You sigh longingly again and Luna has had enough of you. She huffs loudly, air coming out of her pink nose, head bumping yours to get your attention when her neighing couldn't.
“Hey, girl, what's your problem?” You pat her nose to calm her down. She kicks at the dusty ground, making sure her annoyance is palpable. “Carrots right, sorry.”
You swear you heard Hobie chuckle. But when you turn to look at him, he's currently busy with stacking hay, seemingly unaware. He hides his grin behind the shadow of his hat.
Feeding Luna her favourite treat, she happily chews noisily. Craning your neck to go back to the gun show, you knit your eyebrows to see his usual spot empty.
“Lookin' for me?” Hobie scares the tumbleweeds out of you. He pokes your side, making you jump in place. “You were starin’ a bit too hard. I swear there's holes on my back havin' the same shape as your eyeballs. At this point you gotta pay me, sweetheart.” He shoots you a wink, adding to your quickening heartbeat. Going around the pale horse, his smirk never leaves his face.
He leans over Luna's saddle, face perched on his hands with a smile that could stop someone's heart. Tilting his head, eyebrows raised, he waits for your clever reply. There's only crickets singing in your head with how he looks at you like you hung the sun for him. He just stares at you lovingly, perfectly content, perfectly happy even with all the grime dusted on his chiseled cheeks.
You feel like you've fallen for him all over again.
Copying his movements, you lean over Luna's saddle, facing him with the same love and softness he's currently showing just for you.
After what seemed like hours has passed just from throwing each other heart eyes from looking, you finally speak with a tone that Hobie could only describe as lovestrucked.
“Do I get a discount at least?”
He sucks in his teeth with fake annoyance. “Nah, don't think so, love. You can only see these muscles right here.” Patting his bicep, you laugh.
He thinks he's in heaven.
“That’s true, the sight alone is a rare commodity around here.”
Reaching for your hand, indulging himself with your mere touch, he intertwines your fingers together with his, like vines that grow and weave around each other, never letting go.
“You good? Heat isn't killing you?” He asks you like he's not the one toiling away outside with the sun bearing down at him.
You shake your head, bringing his hand up to your lips to reassure him. You feel the raised skin atop his knuckles, taking extra care, you kiss each one gently. “Nope, I'm melting but I can handle it.”
“Melting from the heat or from the show I gave you?”
You giggle, rolling your eyes, it's his turn to press a sweet kiss over your knuckles. “I should be the one asking you that. You alright? You're sweating a lot.” Wiping his forehead, he closes his eyes, his smile deepens with every wipe.
“Got it all?”
“Mm-hmm”
“Now do my pits,” He raises his arms above his head. “they're awfully sweaty, sweetheart.” He jokes with a deep chuckle.
Hobie expects for you to flinch away, or even screech and run away but you just shrug. “Sure,” your acceptance has him flabbergasted and endeared. “I've cleaned blood off of you, sweat is nothing compared to that.”
“Holy shit,” he says softly, almost a whisper as he goes around Luna to come near you— impossibly near as he holds your face in his hands. You don't mind the smell of hay clinging to his palms or sweat as you lean to his touch, eyes shining and full of affection for the man before you. “You think the reverend is free today?”
Chuckling, you knit your eyebrows in confusion. “What? Why?”
“So I could marry you today.” He says it with certainty that you're sure it's not the heat that has your legs almost crumbling. “Obviously.”
If horses could roll their eyes, Luna would be doing it right now.
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hedgehog-moss · 2 years
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(replying to this post)
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That’s a good example of the perils of domesticating translations! It seems obvious that if you try to adapt an ongoing series by changing a main character’s hometown so it’s more local, at some point you’re going to run into problems, like a whole book where they visit their hometown, which will need an in-depth rewrite so it stays coherent.
The France-French translations of Baby-Sitters Club were still set in the US, so the characters had names that were slightly domesticated so as not to frighten French children, but not so much that it wouldn’t make sense for these girls to be American—e.g. Mary Ann became Mary-Anne vs. Anne-Marie in Québec French, and Dawn and Stacey became Carla and Lucy, which still sounds American to a French kid, but not as unconscionably American as their original names. (Part of it is finding names that won’t be difficult to pronounce—but the Famous Five kids had easily-pronounced names like Julian and Dick, and they still ended up heavily Frenchified, into François and Michel. And the books were set in Brittany in the French translations, instead of England, even though French kids could have handled reading a story that was set five metres to the left.)
I remember feeling puzzled about Nancy Drew at one point, because she’s such a household name in anglo literature and I’d never ever heard of her, so I was like, we’ve translated every other popular anglo series, why have I never seen a Nancy Drew book in a French library? And then I discovered that Alice Roy from the “Alice” book series in French was, in fact, Nancy Drew. It blew my mind—Nancy Drew is Alice!! omg, I did know her this whole time. I read somewhere that the French translation re-named her because French kids would have no idea how to pronounce “Drew” and because they would be more likely to associate “Nancy” with the French city of the same name, so it wouldn’t feel anglo enough. So, amusingly, it was a mix of domesticating and foreignising. 
One type of domestication that’s regrettably popular in children’s literature is “temporal” domestication—when you re-translate older books to modernise the language and remove references that would “confuse” today’s kids (not talking about changing aspects of the books that wouldn’t fly with today’s sensibilities, that’s another discussion.) In revised editions of the Famous Five books in the UK, “shall / shan’t” were changed to “will / won’t”, dated words like “horrid” became “horrible”, “trunks” -> “suitcases”, etc. It’s a form of domesticating translation—from 1950s English to modern English. Personally I’m not a fan of it, because in a lot of instances, “modernising” prose for children is synonymous with pruning it and dumbing it down.
In French children’s literature spatial domesticating is losing steam while this kind of temporal domesticating is on the rise—we now feel like French kids can handle reading about an English boy named Julian who lives in England, rather than making the story about François in Brittany, but apparently kids can’t handle reading about a boy who lives in the 1950s and speaks accordingly. In recent re-translations of the Famous Five books they changed the passé simple conjugations to the less complex present, and the “nous” to “on” in the kids’ dialogue among other things, to make the text less formal, more modern—and simpler. The Spanish revised editions have examples of both trends—George calls her father “Padre” in the original translation and “Papá” in the modern one (temporal domesticating—the UK reprints do the same thing, changing “Father” to “Dad”); the kids having tea was initially translated as “tomar el té”, while the new translation changed it to “merendar” (spatial domesticating—and sure, it’s a similar enough concept, but it erases cultural differences. If you’re reading about English kids you can accept that they refer to their snack time as la hora del té rather than la merienda...)
Idk, I think kids who enjoy reading can handle books about fictional children that don’t live and talk just as they do; identifying with people who are quite different from you is part of the fun of reading. I remember reading as a kid the Comtesse de Ségur children’s books which were written under Napoléon III, and the 19th century language was a delightful aspect of them—the fact that little kids my age used imperfect subjunctive in casual conversation was hilarious to me. I was saying in my previous post that domesticating your translation too much evinces a lack of respect for your reader’s ability to handle unfamiliar concepts, and I think we should try to have a little more respect for children in that regard.
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kenlvry · 4 months
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jealous
an; someone requested this but idk tumblr wouldn't allow me to edit it in drafts and i accidentally deleted it so here it is im sorry anon🙁🙁. btw this is more scenarios instead of hcs
17-18 stan, kenny, kyle!jealous x gn!reader (uses the term "your girl/mygirl" in kyles)
req : "can you do main 3 who's extremely jealous with reader?"
stan
"who was that?" stan had you pinned to a confined space, in the janitors closet to be more specific. he towers over you his shadow blocking the one light bulb in the closet. "..stan i have to get to class" you avoid eye contact, Stan's jealousy was something everyone was aware about but it was never this serious to the point he'd pull you in a closet.
"so do i, answer me who was that? you seemed to love laughing and giggling at his jokes, looking at him as if your boyfriend wasn't watching" although his head doesnt look down on you, his eyes does, he raises one eyebrow looking down on your figure. "stan it was just.." it was a friend but for some reason you wanted to push his buttons a little.. you know add a little fuel.
"and what if me and him have something? you got a problem with it?" if he wasn't close enough, now he is. he walks towards you in the already small space closing in on the distance between your bodies, "what?" his head now turns down to look at you. although you stutter you try to fight back "y-yeah.. what about it?" despite your cruel words that you have no idea is aching his heart your eyes fail to meet his.
"baby look at me in the eyes and tell me he loves you better than i do" stans voice was low, you've never seen this side of him and to be fair it was kinda hot. your eyes glance at his own pupils and your words seems to not want to come out. "well?" stan crosses his arms, "im waiting" he looks down on you.
you laugh, it was funny but you were lowk getting scared "im just kidding stan! godd youre no fun" you laugh awkwardly and wrap your arms around his neck, tiptoeing. "that wasn't funny y/n i was actually about to cry" he sighs hugging you back.
"im serious though who is he" stan says his mouth inches away from your ear, tou you laugh "its a friend you idiot" "i dont care, no man should make another's girlfriend laugh so beautifully" he pulls back from the hug looking at you "sure next time I'll make him kiss me beautifully" "dude??" he retracts "kidding" you say opening the door walking out of it "im cutting off your lips if you kiss another man" stan says behind you.
kyle
bro this man.. jealousy is skyrocket high. he's not insecure no he's just irritated people can hear his partner's voice when he's supposed to be the only one who can hear your angelic voice.
you laugh echoes the hall, tears falling from how funny kenny was. "you could be a comedian you know?" you say panting from the joyous laugh "yeah i could, but i could also be your boyfriend" your smile fades "as if" he smirks walking close to you "yeah? don't wanna try? i could be better you know, kyle doesn't have to know"
before you could respond you feel a hand on your waist, your head turns to your side to see kyle looking at kenny with the most serious face. kyle was a serious man but this face was so serious it beats everything. "what do i dont have to know kenny?" he raises an eyebrow at his bestfriend "boo youre boring let me have a talk with your for a sec" kenny whines at kyle.
"my girl kenny, not yours" "could be" his grip on your waist tightened. "haha funny joke kenny, you could drop it" you laugh awkwardly "not funny didnt laugh" kyle replies. "nahh its no joke, maybe we could be something y/n" "what the fuck dude i am right here." kyles eyebrow furrow. "and?" "and you're about to watch something you'll never get to do" your eyebrows too furrow when you hear this but you quickly understand it when kyle turns you kissing you infront of kenny. his lips were soft with a taste of strawberry.
your eyes widen but quickly melt in to the kiss "fuck you guys, get a room honest", you open an eye at kenny and realise kyle raised a middle finger at him "fucking weirdos" he says before walking off. kyle pulls from the kiss "y/n i wont hesitate doing that again infront of every guy if you dont stop talking to them" he crosses his arms. "okayyy sorry kyle, next time instead of talking with guys I'll fuck them" "bro i will literally have a quickie with you behind to school rn if you dont stop" his face shows no humour while your grin was wide as ever.
kenny
okay, i like to think he's manipulative 😭 like tell me this dude doesn't turn the tables and makes you the one at fault. the fights you two have over his issues is crazy and you know he's manipulating you, its just you like the power over him. (although i think out of the three stan would be the most manipulative)
kenny looks down on you sitting on the bed. his eyes already glossy "please dont tell me you're cheating on me" his voice in a high pitch. you feel yourself wanting to sigh, this happens every week but you also feel yourself wanting to smirk with how you can easily make him cry. "what are you talking about kenny?"
"tolkien, you were laughing with him and he put his hands on your shoulder!" you sigh "kenny he was loosing balance" "and? as if bebe's shoulder wasn't right beside him!" you sigh again, rubbing your temples. "well? are you cheating on me?" "no! god kenny I'm not cheating on you!" your voice was high and your tone seemed like you were done with his shit.
you don't see it but kenny smirked, he felt himself feel proud. "im sorry kenny.. its just" you trail off "no.. don't worry" you feel as if his voice was off, his usual whined turn to a condescending one but you dont look up at him.
he sits down beside you,his body turning to yours "so.. can you cut Tolkien out of your life?" he says a low whisper "what?" you finally look at him, and something in his eyes tells that he seems.. rather proud. "can't you do that.. would you rather have your boyfriend crying every night thinking about how you an tolkien fuck each other?" "kenny!" you stand up, now youre the one looking down on him. though with his tall figure you barely even looked down
"what? dont act as if you dont want him in your bed every night!" "what are you saying!" "please! go on and kiss him, leave me be here all alone" his voice now high. "fuck fine I'll delete his contact!" you sigh in defeat "and dont talk to him at school" kenny adds "yes okay". kenny smiles, standing up and hugging you "i love you" you hesitate, "love you too"
and although the statement seems like a lie, the warmth of kennys hug melt awat the itching guilt that kenny was right about tolkien. you do want him in your bed every night
268 notes · View notes
firegirl888101 · 1 year
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Insatiable Madness (4)
|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|
Thank you all for the continuous support!
I'm finding it so hard to keep the characters acting how they would in the game...
Also I'm a bit nervous to post this since I'm not feeling confident.
Reader is Gender Neutral!
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"Pierro, I think we're attracting unwanted attention." Columbina whispered to the older male, her face unchanging.
He didn't reply, he continued to watch the doctor walk around and look for the Decider.
"Dottore, do you even know what they look like?" Scaramouche asked the man.
"I may or may not have discovered this problematic issue."
Meanwhile, you were in line with your family waiting for your turn to order at the desk.
Your aunt didn't bring her card, so now you all had to physically go to the desk instead of order at one of the tablets.
While your aunt was fiddling with her purse, you were eyeing the Dottore cosplayer walking around the room.
He seemed to be looking for something... or someone...
You wanted to walk up to him, you really did. However, you were with your family right now.
You couldn't just leave them and help someone you wanted to be friends with.
"Y/N! I've been calling your name for the past 5 minutes." Your aunt snapped her fingers in front of your eyes.
"Sorry, sorry, what did you want?" You blinked, focusing your eyes on her.
"I was asking what you wanted, we're next in line." She pointed, the teenagers in front of you grabbing their ticket from the cashier.
"Speaking of which, we're now being served."
Damn it, you were so focused on the cosplayer you didn't decide on what to order!
Hmm, a cheeseburger does sound good... and certainly smells good too.
"Just decide for me." You sighed to yourself, fumbling with your fingers.
"WHAT!? This is so unlike you! ...For your courtesy to my wallet, I'll buy you an extra milkshake."
"Yay."
The Harbingers regrouped at the entrance of the building.
"Dottore, what's our next plan?" Capitano questioned, moving further away from gazes passed at him.
"I'd personally like to leave public view as soon as possible, I think I'm the main problem."
"You could never be the problem, Captain!" Childe smiled.
"Fucking brown noser." Scaramouche scoffed.
"Shut up, balladeer! We all know it's your hat that's attracting attention!"
"Would you two stop arguing like children!" Pulcinella raised his voice, Childe backing away.
"Right, so I'm the child." The Balladeer scoffed, his arms folded as he looks away.
"Do you want extra time in the abyss once we return to Teyvat?" Pierro threatened.
"I'd love that extra time, anywhere away from the fucking man that brought us here is pleasant enough."
"Of course you'd say that." He shook his head in annoyance.
"Dottore, what's our next plan?" Pantalone asked him.
"I have an idea! Let's just kill everyone to attract their attention." Childe suggested.
"Absolutely not, I'm not looking to dirty my hands here." Signora shut him down.
"Tartaglia's idea isn't a bad one." Dottore thought out loud.
"Excuse me?" Sandrone gaped. "How is causing mass-murder an acceptable idea?"
Dottore paused, looked around him, then continued.
"It hurts my intellect to admit this, but we don't have any other options."
"Dottore is right, we can't miss this chance. Who knows when they'll leave the building." Pantalone nodded.
"Additionally, I don't feel like walking much further."
It was decided.
"Well then, comrades, let's dance. I'm glad you all see my way for once."
You were sitting in a dirty ass toilet stall which probably hasn't been cleaned in weeks.
Fiddling with the phone in your hand, you curse to yourself quietly when your Childe still wasn't working.
Okay, it's clearly not your computer that's the issue.
You were about to leave the stall, when all of a sudden you heard screams outside.
Did... Did a celebrity walk through the door or something?
You walked out of the stall, washed your hands and peaked through the main door.
...
Blood. Blood was everywhere. It was splattered across the windows, the stools, the food, the corpses.
The smell was awful. Iron filled your nostrils, making you gag.
You shook with fear, stepping back slightly.
What happened while you were gone!? More importantly, where was your family!?
You wanted to check, but you didn't know if it was safe.
Oh, of course! 999 is usually the number you call in these situations... right? They'll be able to help!
You shut the main door slowly, and ran back to the bathroom stalls.
You quickly dialed the number, and put your phone up to your ear.
"999, what's your--"
"Please, help me, help the people! I don't know what happened." You whispered harshly, hearing footsteps behind the bathroom door.
"Calm down, love... Take deep breaths and explain what's going on." The elderly voice behind the phone calmly warned.
"My... My family. We went to a fast food place for lunch, I went to the toilet. I come back, and... everyone in the entire facility is laid on the floor with blood surrounding them!"
"Did you see anyone out there alive? Perhaps the murderer?"
"No! I ran back inside the toilet in fear! Ohh, I hope my family are safe..."
"Alright, sweetie. Here's what we're going to do. I need you to tell me where you are, and to follow my instructions. From the sound of your situation, you'll need paramedics and police?"
"Yes, yes! Anything that can help! I--"
You heard the bathroom door open.
"I'm fucking checking the room now!" You heard a voice yell. "That damned doctor..."
You felt yourself slowly climb on top of the toilet, hiding your feet from view.
"Hello...? Is everything alright?" You heard the woman on the phone.
When the woman spoke, the footsteps paused.
You couldn't breathe, you were terrified. You could feel your hands shaking, the phone in your grip becoming increasingly heavy.
"There's someone in here!" You heard the male voice shout.
So, there's more than one murderer... who would do this? Who would have the conscience to murder these people in cold-blood?
That's not important. Right now, you had to find an escape.
"_____ ___ _______," You whispered your location. "send help..."
You hung up the phone and frantically looked around the stall for something to defend yourself with.
It's clear to you that you're dead meat. One wrong decision and you're dead. You had to survive until the police arrived.
The footsteps began to move again, you could see sandals when you peaked under the door.
You heard a knock from the other side.
"Listen here, and listen here closely. We've got you surrounded, you can't escape." The voice started.
"If you don't show yourself in 5 seconds, I'm ripping this weak door and showing you to The Doctor." He threatened.
"5..."
What do you do!?
"4..."
They'll kill you!
"3..."
Dottore? Are the cosplayers behind this?
"2..."
This is sick, everything about this is making you sick. Move legs, MOVE!
"1."
BANG!
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I want to bring the series into an entirely different direction. I'm going to try and make things quite dark, if possible.
Like I said earlier, I am a very bad writer. The aim of writing these situations is for practice and to see what I'm good at and what I'm bad at.
If anyone has any critiques for me, please tell me if you're comfortable with sharing!
Despite my plans being fucked up, I want to have fun with it!
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Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.
This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.
This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.
If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.
If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.
Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.
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✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:
@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140
Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine! I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^
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453 notes · View notes
peachybeom · 1 year
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Valentine Blues
Taehyun x reader
ex-best friends to lovers
Please reblog if you like this!
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You were currently experiencing the worst day ever and were about one more tragedy away from having a breakdown.
Huffing violently you stood in the middle of an alleyway, watching your home route bus disappear with the main traffic.
Your phone beeped at the same time and you reached for it while taking rest on a wall nearby.
[10:51pm] Roomate.
Hey Y/n,
I just wanna thank you again for staying out tonight!! Because of you me and Josh can FINALLY enter the home base tonite and get extra juicy iykwim ;)))
Happy Valentines day babes!
Okay yeah now you can feel the breakdown coming.
You were so engrossed in storming all the libraries in town, looking for a specific book for your asshole Professor, to get him to reward you some extra credit, that you had conveniently forgot the stupid promise you had made to your roommate.
As much as you wanted to crash on the soft mattress of your bed and mute the world for rest of the weekend, you weren't desperate enough to walk into your roommate having sex with her co worker while roleplaying as a nurse.
In your peripheral vision, you could see couples huddled together, walking hand in hand. Some sharing an ice cream, others practically devouring each other with their intense stares.
Love was definitely in the air, and it made you nauseous. It wasn't that you were anti love or something, in the past you actually looked forward to this cliche holiday.
But recently you had managed to convince yourself that after several bitter breakups and unrequited crushes, being in a loving, healthy relationship seemed just impossible for you at this point.
Shaking your head, you pushed aside all the pointless worries and tried to focus on your current problem which was being homeless for the night.
You racked your brain to think which one of your crackhead friend would be available to offer you a lodging.
Kai? No. You knew he had plans with his girlfriend in her dorm to watch some random Disney movie and cry like a baby while she consoled him.
Soobin? Doubtful. His still had problems prioritising his girlfriend over odi, so that was a territory you didn't want to enter.
Beomgyu and Jeongin? Never. Those two would definitely be somewhere wasted in a club while they humped their way through another round of beer pong. They had actually tried to convince you for an entire week to join them at the club tonight and form a 'Singles Union', An association which helped each other to get laid. No way you were walking into that trap again.
That left you with Yeonjun- ehhhh. You actually had no idea what he was upto. Last time you heard from him, he was 'Single like a Pringle and definitely ready to Mingle'- his words not yours.
Sighing, you crossed your fingers as you dialled his number on your phone. Hopefully he could be your saving grace.
After a few rings he picked up the phone.
"Hey Junnie, I know it's kind of late and well.....Valentine's day but I really really need a favor from you," You said rushing your words. The cold weather was definitely peeking under your raging emotions.
"Oh hi Y/n, yeah sure what's up," Yeonjun replied, in a whisper.
"Yeah so I actually- I hear a woman's voice. Are you on a date?," You asked, cutting off your own words.
"Yes I am, but I can help you. What's the problem?" He answered.
To this you stifled a laugh. Choi Yeonjun on a date? The no strings attached Choi Yeonjun taking some lady out to have a nice dinner? This day was getting more trippy minute by minute.
"It's a speed dating thing. Now tell me what do you want, I don't have much time." Yeonjun said in an annoyed tone, taking the silence as a way of you teasing him.
Ah that makes so much more sense.
You almost felt bad for interrupting Yeonjun on his 'date' but you knew he was the only one who could save you right now.
So you told him about your problem.
"Hmmm you are aware that you can just crash at my place right? You already know where the key is kept, I won't be home for the night anyways" Yeonjun stated matter of factly.
Your ears perked up at his suggestion and you almost cursed yourself for not thinking about it earlier until a face flashed up in your mind.
"And what about Kang Taehyun?" You questioned grimly.
"Beggars can't be choosers Y/n. Besides it's not like he's the spawn of Satan." Your friends responded.
"But Yeonjun-,"
"Listen I have to go but consider this. It's not like you have any other option. Byee happy love day!" And then Yeonjun abruptly ended the call.
You groaned loudly and stomped your feet like a baby, earning glances from a few pedestrians. But you couldn't care less about them.
You started to weigh your options.
Spending a night at a run in shady motel full with horny couples or with your friend's roommate, the annoying, son of a gun- who also happened to be your ex bestfriend, Kang Taehyun.
After giving both of them intense thought. You decided to swallow your pride and take up Yeonjun's offer. Atleast his bed would be free of mysterious bodily fluids unlike the motel's.
After almost walking for half an hour- a consequence of missing the bus earlier, you finally reached Yeonjun's apartment.
Your feet were giving up on you and your teeth began to clatter lightly due to the cold February weather.
You could hear faint music from the other side of the door.
Great. Taehyun was home.
You weren't surprised though.
Even though you despised Taehyun, you decided to knock on the door instead of unlocking it out of common courtesy.
Nothing happened for a few moments and you knocked again. Still nothing.
Growing impatient you reached for the key and was about to use it when Taehyun opened it.
Correction: A very shirtless dripping wet Taehyun, with a towel around his waist opened the door.
"Lover boy isn't home tonight," Taehyun started with a stern tone. Oblivious to the fact that he was basically half nude standing in front of you.
"I-uh," You gulped, trying to compose yourself.
Taehyun is annoying and irritating and an asshole. His chiseled abs could not facade his shitty personality.
"Yeonjun said I could stay here tonight, Now move." You continued before making your way inside the apartment.
You did feel a bit intrusive and rude but your day had already been a mess and dealing with Kang Taehyun was icing on the cake.
Ignoring and engaging in minimum conversation with him was your goal.
Reminiscing the comfy feeling of a bed, you made a beeline for Yeonjun's room and turned the knob to open the door.
"What the fuck," A string of curse words left your mouth as you saw the room before you.
It was completely trashed and the stench of freshly applied paint almost made you dizzy.
"Yeonjun's room is being renovated, didn't he tell you that?" A voice mocked you from behind.
Taehyun was now leaning against the door frame -now fully dressed- and drying his hair with a hand towel.
You wanted to cry. You knew that this proposition was too good to be true. Breaking down over a trashed room was childish but anyone in your place would feel the same way. Everything was getting on your nerves.
There was no way you could sleep in the living room too, your fingers were already numb and your throat felt scratchy.
"I'm gonna kill him," You muttered under your breath before taking your bag and making your way to the exit only to be stopped by Taehyun midway.
"Hey I can't let you leave. Yeonjun would kill me, also not to forget you are sort of homeless aren't you?" He said raising a hand.
Your eyes widened. So he knew, great.
The last thing you wanted to be infront of him was vulnerable and embarrassed, but here you were.
As much as you hated to admit it, he was right you didn't have any other choice.
"So where will I sleep?" You asked raising an eyebrow, refusing to admit defeat.
"In there," Taehyun replied pointing to his bedroom.
"No way I'm sharing a bed with you. You pervert, " You answered him in disbelief.
But the thing was even though you hated Taehyun, you knew that he won't make a move on you without consent.
Deep down you still trusted him.
You, Yeonjun and Taehyun went way back. They were the first two people you ran into on your first day of college, when you were a naive, insecure friendless student. They were the ones who took you in and made you feel welcomed.
"Oh no, You'll take the floor," Taehyun answered bringing you back to reality.
What?
You stared at him blankly as he broke out in a fit of laughter.
"God it feels so good to have the upper hand," He continued.
Suddenly the thought of walking home alone and witnessing your roommate doing the dirty didn't phase you anymore.
So once more you picked your stuff and started walking towards the door when you felt Taehyun grab you wrist.
You'd had enough. Fuck avoiding him.
"What the hell do you want Taehyun. I've already had a crappy day as it is, spent my entire day searching a useless manuscript for that Professor dimwit, ran two fucking stations only to miss my bus home and walked here in this freezing weather with people sucking off each other's face all around me. So No, I don't have the energy to deal with your petty humiliations. Let go." You turned around lashing at him.
Your fists were bawled and your lips quivered. Taehyun always worked you up, he made you feel weak and vulnerable and you hated him for that.
Something changed in Taehyun's expression and his eyes softened. He loosened his hold on your wrist as you pulled it away from him.
"You can take the room. I didn't plan on sleeping there anyways, got some assignments to finish," Taehyun finally spoke up, his voice soft and laced with guilt.
You stared at him for a minute too long and then without saying another word you made your way to the room and shut it behind you.
You sunk down on the floor, once inside.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair you let out a shaky breath.
This wasn't fair. While the rest of the world was busy celebrating love and happiness with their significant others, you were left here moping in the bedroom of the boy, one you managed to successfully detach and despise in your mind for almost a year now.
The reason you were so hostile towards Taehyun wasn't because he was sort of pretentious or his face was too annoyingly perfect, it wasn't because he was so calm in situations where one shouldn't be.
The true reason was that Taehyun made you feel things that you would never allow yourself to feel.
Everything thing he used to do drove you wild. Made your heartbeat like crazy whenever he was around you, the touch of his hands, the small comforting smiles which adorned his face when your eyes met.
You were always rational with your love life, never reaching for places you couldn't but Taehyun was an exception.
He led you on, starred in all your hopeful fantasies and dreams but then left one day only to leave them shattered on the ground.
"Y/n I think you've got it wrong. It's best for us to remain friends don't you think? Best friends can't hurt each other,"
Except Taehyun was wrong. Best friends can hurt each other, they can leave scars which can take ages to heal. Those words still haunted you to this day.
He had rejected you that day.
But it wasn't the response that upset you the most, it was the shitty excuse he gave you, because the promise to remain friends was just as difficult. You could never look at him the same way again, the pain eventually grew into hatred and here you were now.
Holding back tears, you finally looked around the room. Nothing had changed since the last time you've been here, Taehyun had always been a pretty minimalistic person. Everything felt the same except for two photo frames which were placed on his bedside table.
You went up and examined the two pictures closely. One was of the day when Yeonjun, Taehyun and you decided to take a spontaneous road trip to your home town. A smile spread across your lips as you recalled the happy memories.
However it was the second picture which earned a gasp from you. In it, you were shoving a handful of Chocolates into Taehyun's mouth laughing while he looked at the camera with mischievous eyes, hands wrapped around your arms.
You couldn't understand why Taehyun would still keep this picture with him, nevertheless framed and on his bed side table.
Before you could think about anything else, you felt a knock on the door. Startled you dropped the frame on the bed and went ahead to open it.
Taehyun stood there in front of you, holding a jumper in his hands.
"I have to grab some books and here, I figured you would be cold," His expression still apologetic.
His hair was messy and a hint of sleepiness evident in his eyes.
You took the sweater from him and moved to the side to let him in.
Your heart skipped a beat when you brought the jumper closer to your face. It smelled like him.
"I'm sorry Y/n. I acted like an asshole earlier," Taehyun said minutes after, eyes still settled on his giant bookshelf.
For a moment you didn't know how to respond but then you spoke,
"I'm sorry too for lashing out on you, it's just today's been a pain in the ass for me,"
As you were speaking you realised, how much time it had been since the two of you spoke without bickering, let alone apologize to each other.
"I thought you'd probably be out tonight celebrating," He continued now looking at you.
You scoffed at this.
"My love life has been in shambles since forever," you replied letting out a pathetic laugh.
Since you.
"Same for me, if that makes anything better,"
Even though the three of you did not hang out together anymore. Yeonjun always used to give you updates on Taehyun's life even though you pretended not to care.
You had no idea where this conservation was leading. At any moment you could ask him to leave, but there was piece of you that wanted him to stay just like it did a year ago.
"Actually I- uh got something to give you, just a second," Taehyun said abruptly before leaving the room.
He exited the room in such a hurry that you didn't even have time to process what he said.
Something for you? What could it be? The thumping of your heart making it hard to concentrate on anything.
The door opened again and this time Taehyun returned with a mug in his hand.
He stood beside you next to the bed and placed the mug in your hands.
"What's this?" You asked him, puzzled.
"I know the circumstances aren't the best but I couldn't break the promise," Taehyun replied, his expression soft and a little embarrassed.
You still couldn't get it.
"I can't cook or bake to save my life so here's some hot chocolate instead....Happy Valentines Day Y/n."
That's when it hit you. A few years ago you and Taehyun had made a made a pact with each other, for every valentine's if either of you were single or sulky the other person's job would be to look out for them and cook them a 'comfort' food of their choice.
Taehyun remembered. Of course he did, that explains that picture he kept on his nightstand.
You were overwhelmed to say the least.
"Hopefully this makes everything just a bit better," Taehyun finished off.
That's when you heard your own sniffs and felt a tear running down your cheek.
Taehyun looked at you with a panicked expression as he sat beside you and opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.
"I can't do this anymore Taehyun, it's too unbearable. I did everything to get over this Despised you, avoided you but I'm just so weak. I'm pathetic," Even though your vision was blurry, you could still clearly see Taehyun's sculpted face in front of you.
It was pathetic really. The facade you managed to pull off for so long came undone the moment he confronted you.
Beomgyu and Jeongin would probably laugh their heads off and label you a loser if they ever got to know about this.
But Taehyun pulled you into a hug, his warm embrace enveloping the whole of you.
"Don't say that, I hurt you and it's my fault. I was a coward Y/n, I didn't want to ruin or complicate things but it only caused pain for both of us,"
He pulled back to face you.
"I know I can't ever make up for the things I said that day, but- fuck it I miss you. There are so many things I want to say that I couldn't back then but most importantly Y/n I- I love you."
Although your mind was an emotional mess. Hearing those three words from Taehyun made the butterflies in your stomach wild. The school girl crush, the giddy feeling you felt everytime Taehyun was near you returned.
"Same," you blurted out meekly not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences.
This earned a wide grin from Taehyun, giving a perfect view of his pearly white teeth and adorable eye whiskers.
He placed a hand on your cheek, wiping the tears and then leaned in dangerously close.
"May I?" He whispered against you lips and without thinking twice you smashed your them against his. This exact moment, you dreamt of it countless time. Being in Taehyun's arms was something you thought you could only see in your dreams. Actually you still weren't sure if this all was real or you were just lost in another dreamland. .
"I've missed you so much y/n oh my god" Taehyun breathed against your lips.
What eventually started soft and slow turned hot and steamy in a matter of seconds. Hands roaming all over and your entire body melting into his.
When Taehyun slipped his hands under your jumper to take it off you suddenly pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.
"What happened, did I do something wrong?" Taehyun asked with a worried look.
You shook your head quickly and pointed to the mug now placed on the nightstand.
"The hot chocolate will get cold," You replied.
Hearing this, Taehyun visibly relaxed and entwined his fingers with yours.
"I can make you a thousand cups of hot chocolate later but right now let's focus on us," He said in a deep voice, laying you down further on the bed.
"Am I really going to get laid with Kang Taehyun on fucking Valentine's day? Past us would be cringing so hard," You teased him further.
Taehyun replied by burying his face in your neck.
"Happy Valentines Day baby. Lets believe in love again."
The next day when you woke up to a naked Taehyun sleeping peacefully beside you. You had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that this wasn't a dream.
Never in a million years you thought such a disastrous day could have such a perfect ending.
Taking a sip of the cold chocolate milk from the night before, you started down at his beautiful face.
He gently stirred beside you, eyes opening slowly.
"Good morning, you're real" He speaks in a hoarse voice, eyelids still heavy with sleep.
"Yes Tyun, I am" You smiled at his cute state.
Taehyun pulled you closer to his side and whispered in your hair, "Did I tell you, you make all my problems go away"
"Speaking of problems-" You started but were cut off by the loud bang of a door opening.
"Hey Taehyun, Did Y/n come here- WHAT THE FUCK MY POOR EYES. DO YOU TWO NOT KNOW THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE LIVING IN THIS HOUSE" Yeonjun screamed covering his eyes.
You giggled at Yeonjun's mortifying reaction and slipped yourself deeper into the sheets.
"You're the one walking in without knocking, get the fuck out yeonjun" Taehyun screamed back, throwing a pillow at his direction.
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discord-lurking · 5 months
Text
Dungeons and Daddies Wiki Drama: A Greek Tragedy Told through the Medium of Forum Posts (Part 1)
Prologue
Greek tragedies are typically formatted in three or more acts interspersed with choral interludes, beginning with a prologue, and ending with an exodus. In these, protagonists often meet their downfall due to their fatal flaw, or hamartia: the ways in which the protagonists are their own undoing. Our own human failings are the things that bring us the most pain.
When considering a three-act Greek tragedy structure for this, my first thought was to use the Oresteia as a framing device, a trilogy of plays written by Aeschylus about Agamemnon's family in the aftermath of the Trojan War. Upon reflection, though, the themes of the Oresteia (revenge vs. justice, perpetuating a cycle of violence, honor and punishment) didn't quite fit the story I was trying to tell.
No, this is a classic tale of hubris: excessive pride and its ultimate downfall.
After all, what position could come with more power than that of wiki moderator for a Dungeons and Dragons podcast series?
Act One: The Beginning of the End
The D&Dads wiki has historically been... unhelpful, at best. (Source: Myself.) Trouble had been brewing for a long time.
Forum posts from spring 2022 began noting issues cropping up around the wiki. First, it was a complaint about anonymous users "disrupting" the wiki (specifically on Jodie-related pages) while also fixing mistakes in articles.
I'm unsure what specific "disruptions" were meant, but the proposal to ban anonymous users didn't garner much traction.
March 21st, 2022:
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After little activity for months (only one forum post, related to infoboxes), wiki user TwoRatner had a radical proposition: wiki migration.
December 17th, 2022:
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TwoRatner suggested an alternate platform that would have different editing options, then made a potentially-prophetic statement: the wiki might be cursed.
This warning went unheeded.
December 27th, 2022:
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Ten days after the migration suggestion, TwoRatner came back to ask if there were any recent changes. This went unanswered for months until new user Penguinwithafancytophat reported adding art to character pages (including Glenn, a main season 1 character since the start of the podcast in 2019, who incredibly might not have had any official art on his wiki page before March of 2023).
Spring of 2023 seemed to bring along a revival of the wiki, with new editors coming in, engaging with the forum, and attempting to make suggestions on how to improve wiki organization.
March 31st, 2023:
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May 27th, 2023:
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July 17th, 2023:
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October 2nd, 2023:
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Interestingly, the only administrator seen to be interacting with these enthusiastic new editors? Gaycowboyrats. Let's put a pin in that.
Enter: the drama.
It started out simple enough- a forum posts for administrators to discuss changes that needed to be made.
November 3rd, 2023:
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76 replies.
Seventy. Six. Replies. Each deeply interesting in its own way.
However, this is a Tumblr post, not an Hbomberguy video essay, so I'll keep it brief.
The discussion started out as one might expect a wiki admin discussion to start:
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Mods discussed blocks, deleting stub pages, spam, etc. Standard wiki business.
The first reply to ping my interest:
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Removing cast pages from a wiki about their work seemed like an odd decision, in my non-wiki-editor opinion, but the last line is what really stuck out: "Besides, I hate the idea of someone vandalizing the pages to defame them."
Several questions arose for me:
Was this a known problem? Were people constantly vandalizing cast pages?
Would a vandalized fandom wiki page really defame somebody?
Isn't the point of wiki editing to remove vandalization on articles?
The administrators began to stand out to me as deeply invested in a very specific sense of wiki justice.
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Users TwoRatner, Brazil86, and TheOneTrueGod41 agreed with Honic's take.
Another thing to ping my interest: these users seemed to share a similar odd, slightly stilted, writing style. Almost Tommy Wiseau-esque.
Brazil86 expressed optimism about users engaging with wiki pages, something that would begin to set them apart from other administrators.
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As I read, themes began to emerge: wiki justice, and incongruous one-liners.
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Quoth Honic Washington: "I just found a wave of nonsense fish. My backyard is full of them. Hey, TOTG41, do you like jazz? I like jazz."
Truly, modern poetry.
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Administrator Marth8204 suggested giving people more time. More time for what? Unclear. It seems a plan was afoot.
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TwoRatner came in with a hot take: "I feel like we need a community more right now, than adding links that people can search for in the search bar."
Brazil86 agreed: Changing the navigation was less important than getting people editing and making friends.
Another theme began to emerge: wiki community as more important than wiki functionality.
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Gaycowboyrats had some (incredibly reasonable) objections to this, pointing out that the wiki was a resource for many visitors who might not participate- something that is generally true of wikis as a form of content.
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Honic Washington responded to this, the signs of wiki-related stress beginning to show.
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Honic posts a long rant about the thankless task of moderating a wiki, which goes largely unacknowledged.
Notable TwoRatner quotes:
"You can't crack open a few omelets without punching a few egg-rolls."
"Now Freddie will get more money. What do you all say? I think I helped quite a bit."
Another theme emerges: discontent in the wiki moderator ranks.
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Honic reaches full Joker mode. Again, this goes largely unacknowledged.
Honic: "I am leader. I am a painter! Keep your rules. Keep your status. Keep your friends."
"Keep your status"- words that will reverberate throughout the rest of this tale.
The final theme? Wiki moderator status, and the maintenance of it.
After Honic's bomb drop, conversation about regular wiki moderation continued, with mods considering the addition of a bot to make edits.
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Admin Discussion Zone, first started by Honic Washington, ends not with a bang but with a whimper.
Over nearly a year of forum posts, patterns emerged.
Firstly- users attempting to engage in the wiki, wiki administrators not engaging with these new users, then wiki administrators bemoaning the lack of user engagement.
The notable exception was Gaycowboyrats, the only wiki administrator to engage with new users in the forums. Gaycowboyrats, the administrator whose (incredibly reasonable) suggestions ended with Honic Washington's villain-esque monologues and denouement as a moderator.
Secondly- administrators putting forth large-scale, drastic solutions to real or perceived wiki problems. This includes Cheesoid4 wanting to ban anonymous users, TwoRatner suggesting site migration, Honic deleting cast pages to prevent vandalism, and more to come.
Thirdly- wiki administrators seeming to share similar styles of speech and occasional non-sequiturs. Interestingly, this mainly seems to include the wiki administrators who agree with each other.
Funny how that happens.
Chorus
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Stay tuned for Part 2, where the forum drama really starts to heat up.
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