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#just thinking about how much she lost in such a short amount of time
httpsserene · 5 months
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𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘
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𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞
summary: tainted, virgin!reader is growing tired of grinding against her boyfriends. she’s never touched herself before—no toys, no fingers, no fondling—the friction from a pillow used to be enough. but, maybe having something inside of her isn’t as terrifying as she believed. charles’ pretty pianist fingers don’t look too scary, and they way he raves about how talented max’s daunting thicker fingers are; well, she could be convinced to see what all the fuss is about. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. fingering. hand and finger kink. guided masturbation. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. dialogue heavy. max is a brat tamer. word count: 2.7k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: pressure • ari lennox
preface: *laughs maniacally*
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max stated, “when you get your nails done today, don’t get a new set. keep them natural; you can get polish but keep them short and rounded with no sharp edges.”
you stared at max with a lukewarm expression. it’s seven in-the-fucking morning, and he’s woken you up from your extremely comfortable position tucked into charles’ chest to tell you that you’re getting your nails done and exactly how he wants them done. he must have lost his mind overnight.
“d’you think,” you croaked out, voice unused from sleep, “that getting my nails done will distract me from realizing that my thighs have healed from the friction burn?”
the dutchman opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to shush him, and continued scratchily, “‘cause it hasn’t worked. ‘n i don’t even have an appointment to get my nails done? ‘s not happening today.”
“i made one,” he responded with a self-satisfied smile, “it’s in an hour.”
“WHAT THE HELL, MAX?!” you exclaimed, fighting through the layers of blankets tangled around you to make your way out of bed to rush through getting yourself ready. charles, still asleep, snuffled unhappily at the commotion and rolled over facing away from the two of you.
max chuckled mutely as he watches you stumble off the bed towards to en-suite bath, “use my black card–i’m sure it’ll cover the late fee.”
slamming the bathroom door shut, your yell carries through the door, “I WAS GOING TO USE IT ANYWAYS!”
thanks to years of lounging in bed to the last possible second before you needed to get ready, you were exactly on time to your appointment. it’s a boujee “self-care salon” that you don’t usually go to but it’s pretty much impossible to mess up a soak-off and basic manicure. actually, max is paying so there’s really no harm in treating yourself. you go from a basic manicure to the most luxurious mani-pedi package they offer, there’s even a hand, arm, foot, and calf massage included. you leave a healthy tip too; it’s not like you can run up max verstappen’s black card, he won’t even notice.
by the time you get home, you’ve completely forgotten about being mad at max for terrorizing you with morning. but, you’re quickly reminded of why when he jumps you as soon as you walk in the front door, tugging you in by your hands as he examines your nails.
“sheesh,” you gasp, “can i close the door first?” 
charles, more awake but still disgruntled (he considers any-time before noon “too early to be awake), apparates from around the corner and walks to shut the door behind you. he wordlessy shimmies your keys and bag out of your hands, and presses a kiss to your cheek, “bonjour, mon coeur.”
“good morning, charlie,” you murmur sweetly, ignoring max’s general incompetence, “may i…” you shift awkwardly on your feet, “can i have a real kiss, please?”
the brunet’s discontented gaze turned to liquid gold warming your body with the amount of love that poured through just one glance. he leans in to kiss you but yelps, flinching away from you at a pinch on his arm from max.
the older man grunts, “bedroom first. then you can make out with each other to your hearts content.”
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your legs have turned to mush from deep kisses, so you’re thankful to be seated on top of charles’ lap on your vanity chair. the monegasque has one hand fisted in the curls at the nape of your neck, moving your head to just the angle he likes as he continues to explore past the seam of your lips. he doesn’t allow you to pull away for more than half a second to catch your breath, all of your hums, moans, and whimpers of delight are caught in his mouth. the lust fogs your brain as he nips and tugs at your bottom lip, the soft skin surrounding your lips raw already from his stubble. the weight of his large hand resting on the small of your back combined with the overwhelming sensations has you shifting your hips rocking back and forth on charles’ thigh, yet you haven’t consciously noticed you actions yet. you haven’t noticed how max has been calling your name to get your attention for a while now.
“liefje, come here,” max’s voice has a commanding edge to it, that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, “you’ve been patient like i’ve mentioned. so, i think it’s time you experience more than one of our thighs, hm?”
you squirm of charles’ lap, prying his hands off your waist when he tries to tighten his grasp, and eagerly make your way over to the foot of the bed where max is sitting–has he been watching the whole time? the monegasque huffs loudly to inform the two of you of how displeased he is at you discarding him quickly at the promise of something more. the younger man stands up and doesn’t manage to take more than one step in your direction before max halts him.
“and where do you think you’re going?” max asks condescendingly, he pulls you down to sit in between his legs, his chest to your back, so you can face charles, “only good boys get to participate. and if i can remember…two days ago, you decided to be a brat.”
the brat in question reddens, “yes! i was…being mean–but, you said that i don’t get to come, not that i don’t get to touch her?”
max shrugs dismissively, and he starts to undress you–pulling off your shirt to leave you in your bra, while he motions for you to tug off your jeans.
“mon chat–this is unfair,” charles whines, “let me touch her!”
“you want to touch her?” max asks, charles nods eagerly in response, “say you were a brat and apologize, and then maybe i’ll let you touch her.”
the brunet gapes at his boyfriend, stumbling over his words for a few seconds, before he turns to look at you, expecting you to help him out. you curl up, dropping your gaze to your lap and pulling max’s hand around you to play with it while he sorts out charles. the monegasque, too stubborn to do anything but disagree with max, clenches his jaw and fists, before he steps and back and sits in your vanity chair again. he crosses his arms across his chest, and turns his head up at max to emphasize his attitude.
“mmm,” the blonde’s chest rumbles behind you, he dips his head to press a kiss to your temple, “he’ll learn how to act once he realizes he won’t be able to finger your pussy, pretty girl.”
you and charles both jolt with matching gasps of surprise at the reveal of today’s sexual exploration. a meek whimper escapes you and max coos sweetly, “do you want to this, liefje?”
you nod shakily, ignoring the flush of heat to your cheeks and the way you press your thighs together a little tighter. 
“words, baby.”
“y-yes, maxy.”
“remember the rules: any time you feel uncomfortable, tell me and we can stop or take a break.”
“y-yeah,” you say airly, “ok.”
“good girl.”
max tilts your head to the side and lavishes kisses along your neck. your breath catches at the unexpected attention, you can only rest limply against max as he sucks marks into your skin. he nips teasingly at your pulse point and you tighten your grasp on his hand to prevent yourself from moaning embarrassingly loud. you let your head fall backwards to give max complete access to the length of your throat, and in the motion you make eye contact with charles. his green eyes are piercing–you can see the envy, yet you can’t tell if he wishes he was max in this moment, or if he wishes he was you.
the dutchman moves lower and focuses on bruising up your collarbone, tugging and biting at the thin skin and you’ve quickly lost your ability to regulate your volume. every exhale transforms into a moan and max’s free hand gets more exploratory as a result. his lips are wet and flushed red when he pulls himself away from the expanse of your newly bruised neck, playing absently with the strap of your bra and whispers next to your ear, “may i take this off, liefje?”
“yeah, yes, yes–take it off,” you rush out, turning shy at the sound of max’s amusement, “you can take it off, please?”
the use of manners quiets the man’s laughter easily; something about the way you use ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ unhesitantly in bed causes his brain to misfire. he rids you of the bra, tossing it at charles, who catches it and stares at max in disdain.
the older man smirks, and brings both of his hands to your chest to ghost the pads of his thumbs against your nipples. the barely there touch had your back arching, pushing your breasts more firmly into his grasp to seek more of the sensation. his chest rumbles behinds you and he steadfastly applies more pressure as he toys with the buds–your moans are more like sharp whines now, and whenever he throws in an occasional pinch you shriek, as your vision already blurs from this level of pleasure. you’ll cum before he gets his hand inside your panties.
you clumsy pull at his right hand, trying to tug it away from your breast to direct him further south, but max tuts disapprovingly and you cease your motions as soon as the sound registers.
“actually, liefje–you won’t need my hand for this part, only my voice.”
you tilt your head towards him to stare in confusion, and max brings his hand up to caress your cheek, “i’m going to teach you how to finger yourself, if that’s okay?”
you gulp, the pressure in your tummy only building, “more than okay.”
max nods, and presses a kiss on your jawline.
“be good for me and touch yourself over your panties, pretty girl.”
you squirm anxiously, but do as he ordered. you drag your hand down past your navel and in between your thighs, trying to keep them as closed as possible without having yourself spread out obscenely. max, obviously, doesn’t allow that to slide, and spreads your legs for you, draping them along the outside of his, his knees pressing outwards to prevent you from slamming your thighs shut. you whimper shamefully, but continue to drag two fingers along the seam of your cunt over your thin panties, the fabric beginning to darken as you start to leak.
“nice and slow until you start to get wet for me, yeah?”
“‘m already wet, maxy,” you murmur, biting your lip to suppress a whimper.
(“merde,” charles groans from across the room, throwing his head backwards.)
max brings his hand down to tug your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cooler air of the room, and moans at how your glistenting already, “shit–always so wet for me. keep dragging your fingers up and down, liefje.”
max’s hand continues to rest on your navel after he tucked your panties away, and you quickly bore of the slide of your fingers, huffing silently and nudging your nose against his jaw for the next direction, “once your fingers are nice and wet, you’re going to take just one–and gently press inside, yeah? you should be nice and relaxed, okay–if your pretty hole doesn’t open up easily just keep rubbing at yourself and then try again.”
you nod jerkily, and your first attempt at breaching your inner walls fails. you chickened out–after your felt yourself opening up, the pressure was odd. however, with max’s reassurance, you took another pass over your cunt and then tried again. and this time, your finger easily slid within in you–a shocked gasp pushed from your chest at the intrusion. 
“you’re okay,” max murmurs, rubbing at your side and navel calmly, “take your time, get used to the feeling, and when your ready you can start moving that finger, liefje.”
it’s odd–the feeling of something inside you. a little uncomfortable, but not painful like you thought it would be. the strange feeling passes quickly, especially when you draw your finger out and press deeper–it feels good? you think, it feels good at least. max watches the array of emotion pass over your face, and once he sees the previous apprehension dissipate, he instructs you to slide in another finger. the addition for another finger is easier for you this time, even though the pressure is multiplied–as if once you learned that this wouldn’t be painful you were a lot more receptive to the intrusion. 
and when your second finger pops in, the stretch feels good. you sigh breathily, and without further instruction, you begin to slowly thrust your fingers. max leans back and allows you to awkwardly fumble through your own motions, allowing you to figure out what brings you pleasure and what doesn’t. you mimic what you’ve heard girls talk about before, curling your fingers, scissoring them wide, pressing them upwards–and it feels fucking euphoric. your moans begin to ring through the room, and your hips buck dowards to meet your palm, pushing in your fingers deep.
“hm–you see why you needed your nails cut now, pretty girl,” max teases. his words go unheard by you, you’re more focused on trying to find the one spot everybody raves about–you want your vision to flash white, your toes to curl, your eyes to roll, your back to arch, your chest to heave–but you can’t find it. you whine in displeasure, kicking your foot out angrily, and begin to more vigorously thrust your fingers to no avail. 
“let me give you a hand, pretty.”
max gently removes your hand, a sob falling from your lips at the newfound emptiness, but quickly soothes you with the press of two of his fingers inside of you. you and max moan in unison–max at the feeling of  just how tight and dripping wet you are and you at the size of his fingers. max patiently waits for you to adjust, before he begins to absolutely ravage your pussy. his fingers are unforgiving; his rhythm is consistent, the pads of his fingers press firmly along your walls, and he finds your sweet spot after his second attempt of searching.
you shriek, legs trying and failing to slam shut at the overload of pleasure—max coos, ‘good girl’s’ and ‘so pretty’s’ falling from his lips freely. it’s a testament to how talented he is with is fingers that as soon as his thumb falls to press at the bud of your clit–you cum.
it surprises you, max, and charles (from across the room). it’s so overwhelming you cry–forget a toe-curling orgasm, you’e pretty sure you’ve just forgotten your name. your hips are frantically thrusting forward freely, and maxx continues to rub his hand over yout clit until you start bucking away from him in discomfort. you’ve soaked the bed, again. the dutchman tenderly pulls his fingers from the pulsing warmth of your cunt, and calls charles to the bed.
the younger man rushes forward, kneeling on the bed next to max. wordlessly, the blonde shoves his fingers covered in your essence into his mouth, smirking wide at how charles’ eyes widen, exposing his blown out pupils, before they drop to a half-lidded gaze as he thoroughly slurps max’s fingers clean.
when charles pulls away from max’s hand, panting heavily like he was the one who was just brought to a mind-blowing orgasm, max drops that same saliva-covered hand to grope at the bulge in charles’ pants.
the monegasque moans highly, hips thrusting forward to press deeper in to max’s hand–but he pulls it away cruelly.
“you better go take a cold shower charles, since you still can’t come for a while,” max orders nonchalantly, “you might want to put some music on while you’re in there. i would hate for you to get hard again when you hear me make her squirt.”
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© httpsserene 2023
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catedsheeran · 20 days
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fantasize
a/n: somebody please tell me if this short story is good or not i want to write more... guys im scared to post this
please check my latest post before reading!
warnings- g!p nat, nat being a perv, age gap (reader is 21), masturbation with panties, horrible writing
nsfw below 👎
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it's stupid how little amount of self-control she has around you. it's stupid how you always found ways to taunt her even if it was unintentionally, some tight shirt and shorts that you always dress in whenever she came by, and most importantly its stupid that she can't ever stop herself.
she knew how messed up this was. she was so much older than you, by 20 years to be exact. she was also your fathers best friend making it much worse, yet she couldn't keep her hands off of you. she felt so guilty. you looked so perfect standing in your room this morning, half naked getting undressed for a shower, and so unaware about her perverted stares through your slightly open door. her cock stiffened every time you had bent over to pick something off your floor, your lacy white panties on full display for her dirty fantasies.
and right now those were the exact pair wrapped around her throbbing cock. her hand over her mouth, muffling her moans as you were in the room right next to her, her other firmly placed over her cock. she imagined your hands over herself, helping her reach her much needed climax, you'd only wear a white lacy set she knew you owned somewhere in your dresser. her moans grew louder just thinking about getting to finally touch you, slowly and carefully pushing into you with her large cock, pausing when you would gasp from the pain. once you'd be ready for her to move, she would start slow and steady. her hands placed softly at your hips to comfort you—as it would be your first time.
she'd only be gentle in the first few minutes, making sure you were okay before she lost all of her self control. her cock relentlessly pounding into your tight cunt, which she dreamed of almost every night. she'd be so kind to you, better than anyone else you had.
"shit." she whispered. her voice becoming higher the more she climbed her high, her tip pulsed as she came into your panties. she panted heavily, only catching her breath when she remembered you were still on the other side of the wall.
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2
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summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!
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The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath. 
The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line. 
You weren’t exactly happy about this.  
The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach. 
Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you. 
Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —
the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that. 
If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily. 
Maybe. 
Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared. 
But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee. 
Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one. 
She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger. 
You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never. 
You weren’t a child.
Just wanted to be one, sometimes.
Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed. 
Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See. 
He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time. 
Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did. 
Win some, lose some, I guess.
Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five. 
Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention. 
You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.
You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?   
Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you. 
That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.
The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways. 
A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong. 
The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat. 
At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall. 
Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention — 
and you slipped. 
The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge. 
The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height. 
You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally. 
Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle. 
You’d made it?  
No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening! 
Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd. 
But. 
One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.
You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.
You were chosen. 
It wanted you as its rider. 
If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.  
The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly. 
You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw. 
Firstborn daughter excellence. 
Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong. 
Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling. 
“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”
The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you. 
You were all alone. 
The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement. 
Right. 
You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life. 
Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.
Flying! He wanted to fly! 
The first flight sealed the bond, after all. 
You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step. 
The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night. 
The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine. 
You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you. 
And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos. 
No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun. 
Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.
When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory? 
Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.    
Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.
And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. . 
 Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up. 
Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this. 
But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!
“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”
Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick. 
Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”
“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”
The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.” 
“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”
“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”
“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”
You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core. 
“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.” 
All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’
You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.
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One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood. 
An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.
“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”
Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”
“How much longer?”
“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”
What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”
This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in. 
His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation. 
He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child. 
It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first. 
Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.
Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.   
His teenage daughter. Scared him. 
Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place. 
The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore. 
He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely. 
And then he didn’t. 
“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”
Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”
“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”
Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut. 
His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”
“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”
Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”
This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before. 
Here we go again, Jake thought.
“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”
“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”
He grimaced. “I have to—”
“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”
“They trust me plenty.”
“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”
“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”
“They won’t if you never tell them.”
“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”
“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.” 
“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”
“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”
Because he had gone too far already with the older three. 
Trial and error. 
He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step. 
A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning. 
Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.  
He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.” 
Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.  
“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”
“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”
“Dad—”
Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”
Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”
He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”
“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”
Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.  
Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”
“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.
“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?” 
Silence.
The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—” 
Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”
“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”
He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”
His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.  
Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.
You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.
A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face. 
When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble. 
“Neytiri?” 
She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear. 
“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”
And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.
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haunted-xander · 7 months
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Do you ever think about how Alisaie's biggest fear is losing the people she cares about? How the very first conversation you have with her alone, a deeply personal one, is about her confiding in you about those fears? Telling you that she hated the state of the world Louisoix died for because, to her, it wasn't worth the sacrifice? She tells you about all the allies she made and lost, who she watched die and could do nothing to save them.
Do you ever think about how Alisaie was consistently one of the first to act, to recklessly throw herself at danger throughout stb? She didn't care (as much) about herself getting hurt, but she'd be damned if she let her friends suffer without doing anything. She has to be fast and proactive, because if she can't protect them even when striking first, how would she be able to when acting after the fact?
Do you ever think about how every time her loved ones are in peril/are in risk of being in peril her heart just breaks? How whenever someone's safety is unsure she panics and immediately tries to contact them/rush to their aid? When Castrum Abania's cannon shot the tower that, for all she knew, Alphinaud was still in, she immediately stops what she's doing and runs to it in panic because her brother was in there and he might be dead.
Do you ever think about how when the Scions start getting their souls yanked to the First, Alisaie reacts the strongest? How, when Urianger and Y'shtola got taken, she fell to her knees shaking Uriangers body, screaming for him to wake up? And when Gaius appears with Alphinaud in the Burn, she immediately goes to fight him (before being stopped by Hien) because this man, who has been her enemy, is holding her brother's lifeless body. She doesn't care that she can't possibily beat him, he has her brother and she's already lost so much in such a short amount of time. She's lost Thancred, Y'shtola and Urianger already, she can't lose Alphinaud too.
Do you ever think about how you are the only one she can fully rely on at that time, but who is also at risk of being taken away? Of how she's so desperate for you to stay, to not be taken away, that Alisaie, who, for all her bluntness, prefers to rely on herself first and foremost, begs you not to leave her? She begs you. Alisaie does not beg. She yells at you to not do something, and she'll scold you to hell and back if you do it anyway, but she does not beg. But this time she did.
And then she ends up being taken away right in front of you. She cries out for help and uses her very last energy to reach out for you. And then she falls limp.
Do you ever think about how, when Alphinaud turns to tell her his plans at the end of Ultima Thule, she immediately rejects it without even letting him say it? She's lost so much and experienced so much grief, not only overall but also just in Ultima Thule. And she loathes to bring that grief onto another. Especially to one who has already lost so much, like you. She hates it. She ends up doing it, yes, but she hates it still.
DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT-
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franzivonkarma · 3 months
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I desperately need people to understand that Franziska's whipping thing really isn't solely a silly character gimmick. Of course it is to a degree, just like Godot and coffee and Klavier and air guitar in court, but so often I see people dismiss Franziska's whipping trait as an annoying feature that adds nothing to her character and I cannot stand it. This is a bit of a rant and I touch on gender inequality and the way I see a lot of men treat her as a character a decent amount within this because I feel like the fact that she is a woman is actually very important to this element of her character, and her treatment is also a lot of the reason why I feel compelled to talk about this in the first place.
Firstly what you need to understand is that not only is Franziska a woman, she is also laughably young when she becomes a prosecutor. She's a 13 year old girl trying to hold the attention of a courtroom of mostly grown men and be taken seriously. It's no secret that misogyny does exist in the Ace Attorney universe of course (see: Godot), but aside from this, maybe it's just because I've been playing Ace Attorney Investigations recently, but she is just very small all around. It's a running gag in Turnabout Reminiscence that she is short, she's small, she can't see things Edgeworth can - although granted Edgeworth is definitely fairly tall, most estimates I've seen linger around 5'8-5'10 (around 170-180cm). And of course, she is only 13 here, she's not done growing, but it's at this age that she actually did begin to prosecute. Naturally, she'd often be underestimated, and we can see a strong desire to prove herself during Turnabout Reminiscence, even just to her father; I can only imagine that this would extend further into her trials as a young girl. Secondly, she's the daughter of Manfred von Karma, whom she idolises to a godlike status and who teaches her everything she knows about prosecuting, and also a lot about life in general - he's her father. There's a lot I could say about their dynamic, but I feel that much of it doesn't need to be said in this specific post if you're already here dedicated to Franziska enough to bother reading this post.
Manfred's courtroom (and often, regular) behaviour revolves a lot around him taking complete control of the entire courtroom, with him even speaking over the judge, overruling objections he does not like and sustaining his own, and instructing witnesses himself. He also often snaps his fingers to direct attention to himself and his point. Franziska learns this, but how does a literal 13 year old girl follow her father in this regard? Well, by force. Whipping someone is a very clear way to get their attention. Not only the person it hits but the people around - whips cracking are loud, they take up a lot of visual space, and they also obviously cause harm to the person they hit. These are all things you can't really ignore - it forces you to look at her and pay attention to her and gives her control of the room exactly like Manfred. I've also been thinking a lot about the end of Justice For All in relation to this. She's lost to Phoenix multiple times and she couldn't beat him even once just to prove that she was better than Edgeworth as she so desperately wanted to. This brings me to another point about her use of her whip. While I think control is a huge aspect and is my main focus here, I think it falls more under the umbrella of Franziska's own perceived shortcomings. We also know that she doesn't believe she lives up to her father's genius, and that she consistently feels like she's walking in Edgeworth's shadow, she says it herself:
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I think at least some part of the reason her whip is so important is because she believes she could very well be less than equal to others in the room in terms of certain traits. She sees her father as a genius, knows she isn't equal to him, and internalises this (whether she is actually less intelligent or not I personally don't know what I believe, I haven't played Justice For All in over a year and a half and I would have to replay it to decide my thoughts).
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In having to be perfect, there are many expectations she cannot live up to, and this leads to many ways in which she falls short of what she believes she should be. By using her whip, again, she can account for her perceived shortcomings in other areas - control, her intelligence, her ability as a prosecutor. I think this last scene of JFA actually introduces us to the idea that Franziska is somewhat self-doubting in some ways and compares herself a lot with others, not just Manfred, but also Edgeworth, which we see more of in Ace Attorney Investigations during Turnabout Reminiscence, where we see her at 13 attempting to prove that she can "out-logic" Edgeworth for the entire case, and essentially, that she is "more perfect" than he is.
But to come back to her whip, control, and the end of Justice For All.
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She is left with little of who she was before and doesn't know how to move on - everything she was taught to be from the moment she was born, she no longer is. She is 18 here, prosecuting for 5 years already and desperate to be prosecuting for even longer. As far as her life was set out, this was basically it for her - become a perfect prosecutor and prosecute perfectly just like Manfred - the ideal prosecutor in her eyes.
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A Von Karma is perfect, but she is not - she lost, just like Edgeworth, whom she shamed for the same thing. She gives up her whip here, and I feel that it's truly symbolic of how she feels like she's completely lost control of herself, her life, her relationship with her father and most obviously her occupation as a prosecutor. How could she continue being a prosecutor when she no longer lives up to the idea of it that she's had her entire life? What use is her whip if she will not need to hold the court's attention any longer?
I'm sure a million other people have thrown their coin in the pot on this exact topic, and I'm sure many have said the same thing as me and many have said something different, but I needed to write my thoughts out about it because I couldn't stop thinking about her. This is one big reason why I feel like I see a lot of men who don't understand Franziska and see her as very annoying, gimmicky, and my least favourite - a "female Edgeworth." She is a woman who steals attention and space forcibly; both from characters in-game, and also from the player with her animations that take up time in trials and a lot of the visual space. Of course this makes her unpopular with a lot of men. I'm not saying that if you dislike her or the whip it comes from a place of misogyny, I am saying that I think her whipping trait is reduced to a stupid, annoying gimmick more than, say, Godot and his coffee, because a lot of people don't really care to see that there is intention behind it that reveals a lot about her character, just like how Godot's coffee problem is relevant to his backstory.
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samkerrworshipper · 7 months
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let me love you | Leah Williamson x Reader
a lot of angst, ending in fluff, themes of eating disorders, depression and alcohol abuse, 5900 words
please keep sending request yall i need something to feed my brainnn
i’m stuck on a blurb for this so basically just what happens after a rough moment in r and leah’s relationship, can they fix it? can they learn to love each other again? the photo i’ve used says it all lol
it’s piecy and i think u can see my sleep deprivation in this one but hope you enjoy!
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I’d known going into camp that I was in trouble. That as soon as the team doctor did our pre camp exam that I was going to be fucked. With the extensive weight loss I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was approached but I hadn’t expected it to be the first night.
I’d been lying in my bed, in my room by myself. I was rooming with Keira this camp, but luckily enough she spent most of her time in Lucy or Leah’s room so I didn’t see much of her. I’d had the tv playing in the background, to fill the room with something other than the sound of my breathing and the sound of me scrolling through my phone. Then my little bubble, my perfect barrier that I’d created was broken by the resounding noise of someone knocking at my door.
“Y/n, it’s me.”
Sarina. Fuck.
“It’s open.”
It was probably the polite thing to get up and open the door but I was comfortable in my bed and while Sarina was terrifying I couldn’t see her getting mad at me over something so minor. The door cracked open and I switched the tv off out of respect for the manager who had closed my hotel room door behind her. Her face was unsteady, like she was unsure how to approach the conversation, something that I’d never seen on her.
“You missed dinner.”
“I feel asleep, the jetlag has tossed me around a little bit. I didn’t even realise until I woke up twenty minutes ago.”
It wasn’t a lie, I had travelled an obscene amount in the past twenty four hours. I’d flown from Cabo to New York, then spent 20 hours in New York with Kristie and some of the Gotham girls before getting on a plane to take me to Barcelona, where I’d spent a very short eight hours with Keira and Lucy before we got on a plane to London to bring us to camp. It had been hectic to say the least and had resulted in one of my suitcases being lost and me being in a very lengthy back and forth discussion with British Airways about how my luggage had ended up in Austria and that no, I didn’t have the time to go to Austria to retrieve it.
“I think we need to have a talk.”
Sarina’s foot was tapping nervously at her side, it was her tell, she was about to have a hard conversation that was not going to be easy to go over.
“Okay.”
She nodded at me.
“Meeting room 2, five minutes?”
I gulped, fuck, a meeting room. It had gone from informal to a little bit to formal for my liking. I nodded regardless, too scared to reply in any other way.
“Yes Ma’am.”
As soon as Sarina had left my room I was throwing myself out of the bed to throw on some proper clothes and make myself look a little bit more presentable. I threw on my light blue tech fleece and puffer jacket that we all had and then very haphazardly threw my hair into a greasy high pony. I pushed some mascara through my eyelashes and some moisturiser on my skin before coming to the conclusion that no amount of makeup was going to be able to disguise the purple bags under my eyes. Once I was done making myself look a little bit less dead I picked up my phone and keycard from my bedside table and left the room, making my way down the hallway towards the meeting rooms.
The meeting rooms had a multitude of purposes, zoom calls, skypes, video review, contract signing. Business stuff mainly, not a talk with your coach. That was what had me trembling a little bit as I made my way closer to the meeting rooms. When I got to the door of the second one, the one I’d been told to go to I waited outside of it for a few seconds before lifting my fist and knocking twice on the door. I didn’t have to wait long for a reply, Sarina was at the door opening it for me in a matter of seconds. I stepped into the room quickly, my eyes recognising all the faces in the room.
I was directed to a seat at the table, sitting directly across from Sarina, Leah, Millie and our team doctor. Lucy and Keira were seated on either side of me and the whole vibe of the room was enough to tell me that I was royally fucked.
“We are all here to have an open conversation about your recent medical exam.”
I kept my eyes on my own hands, which were resting on the table, playing with the rings that adorned my hands. I couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to look into the eyes of a woman who a few weeks ago I had loved so intensely and now couldn’t even think about without crying.
“You're here to tell me that I’ve dropped a dangerous amount of weight considering my normal weight class, that I should get some further tests done even though we know that there is nothing medically wrong with me. We’ll beat around the bush a little bit, try to ignore the fact that we all know that you can’t allow me to play when I’ve dropped this much weight and then you’ll send me home.”
Sarina’s jaw was set firmly, I could make out that much as my eyes darted up to the older woman quickly to catch a look at her facial expression.
“Do you want to die Ms y/l/n.”
I was taken aback massively by the question, because who asks a person that question, especially in this context.
“I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation with certain people in the room. I don’t want to die necessarily but living right now isn’t exactly ideal either. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’ll admit that, I’m aware. I’ve neglected my body, prioritised other things. I knew walking in here that I’d dropped 2 stone and I wasn’t proud of it. I just went through an intense break up though, I’ve been in Cabo for three weeks, most of which I don’t remember. I know that it’s bad, I know that as an athlete we have expectations but I need some wiggle room, I need you to give me a shot to make this better. Because I honestly believe that in this environment I can fix it, I’ll get the weight back, I’ll get back into therapy or whatever. I’ll give up the bad habits, I just need a period of grace.”
I couldn’t look at Leah, couldn’t let myself out of fear that my brave face would fall and I’d be left in shambles sitting here. I just needed to convince Sarina that I could get my shit together.
She was in front of my brooding for a few minutes, leaving everyone in the room in an awkward silence.
“Everyone out besides Leah and you.”
Fuck.
I watched as everyone else slowly got up, Lucy giving me a reassuring pat on the back before exiting the room.
“I’m giving you both five minutes to explain what the fuck happened between you two, because as much as you both want to make it sound like nothing it isn’t. Everyone can feel it and obviously it's affecting the both of you.”
I still couldn’t look at her, it just hurt.
“Seems like I’m the only one who’s suffering.”
“That’s not true nor fair y/n. Leah’s having her own struggles.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes at the table.
“She’s the one who caused the problems in the first place so I’d call that karma.”
The tension in the room was thick, like a cloud laid over us.
“That’s not fair, you had a part in it as well.”
“I had a part in you kissing Jordan at a party?”
“Jordan kissed me first off, drunkenly, she apologised profusely to both of us when she was sober. You soberly made the decision to kiss fucking Alexia.”
If the tension could have thickened anymore, it did.
“You cheated on me with your ex, I think I can cheat on you with my ex situation.”
“Do you realised how fucked up that whole ideology is? I didn’t want to cheat on you, anyone who was there that night will tell you that I physically pushed Jordan off of me, I didn’t want it to happen. I know it hurts you, but you wouldn’t even hear me out, you didn’t answer my calls or texts. I didn’t know where you went, just heard from Lucy that you’d decided to go abroad for a few weeks and you were turning your phone off. I spent 3 days sitting in Keira’s apartment balling my eyes out because I missed you so much, I haven’t slept properly ever since, I can’t fucking live without you y/n/n.”
Leah was sobbing and it hurt a part of me that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to hug her, wipe the tears from her face and apologise for my stupidity, to make it all better. But I was stubborn as shit and I also hadn’t really forgiven Leah. I hadn’t forgiven myself either.
That night had been the worst one of my life. Seeing Leah making out with Jordan had broken my heart and before I knew it I’d been running out of the bar we’d been celebrating in and calling Ale because she was my person and then she was picking me up and taking me back to my apartment and she was comforting me on our sofa and then we were kissing and Leah was walking in, mascara smeared and tears down her face and then Ale was running out of the apartment. I ended up waiting for Leah to fall asleep before I’d fled. I’d been terrified, my fear response was flight, when I was scared I fled, so that was what I’d done on that godforsaken night.
“I don’t really give a shit who did what. You both fucked up, that’s evident. We have the olympic coming up, Leah you are coming off of an ACL injury and you are going to be our captain, y/n, we need you on top of your game for us to win. I won’t deal with this team being torn into shreds because the both of you are too stubborn to talk about your feelings. Am I understood?”
Both Leah and I nodded meekly at Sarina, the both of us equally terrified of the dutchwoman and the tone of voice she was using towards us, like we were six year olds.
“Y/n, I’ll give you a grace period, two weeks. You’ve got two weeks to show that you can make some improvement in your habits, but there will be conditions if you wish to continue training and playing during those two weeks. You will eat every single meal, with the rest of the team. You aren’t going to work out beyond our team scheduled gym sessions. You will go back to talking to a therapist on a weekly basis. You are going to socialise with your teammates instead of holding yourself up in your room by yourself. You and Leah will room together until you can prove to me that you can be civil. If any of these conditions are broken you will find yourself sidelined, am I understood?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Sarina nodded at me, her blue eyes staring intensely into my own, I was trying to get away from this situation, away from the confrontation that was only bound to get worse the longer Leah and I were stuck in a room together.
“You are free to go, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”
I’d given Sarina a quick nod before bolting out of my seat and straight out of the room. I was pretty sure I’d had the worst 96 hours of my life. My whole body felt like it was on fire, my hair and face were still greasy from all of the airplane travel and my eyes just hurt. I half jogged my way back to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me almost as soon as I’d closed the door behind me. I slowly slid down against the solid wood, this whole situation was so fucked.
Not only did I have to focus on being fucking civil with a woman who I hated, I had to fucking turn my whole life around in a matter of two weeks, which right now seemed pretty fucking impossible. I wasn’t a person who cried very often, I wasn’t in touch with my emotions like that. But right now, fat, warm, wet tears were dripping down my face and my lip was wobbling between my two front teeth trying to suppress the sobs that were coming up from my throat. Love hurt. Loving someone and being loved is one of the hardest things that I’d ever done, because it’s not easy to spend every day loving a person, it fulfilling but it also is so fucking painful.
I could hardly make up the energy to get off the floor, so I didn’t. I sat against the door, crying, shaking and trembling as I let out the feelings that I’d built up for the last month. I was a person who didn’t cry very often, when I was drunk, when someone died, when I was really hurt. That was the extent of my emotional release. Leah was similar, that’s why we’d hit it off, neither of us were over emotional, we didn’t read into things and we didn’t over complicate anything. At the end of the day neither of us had to worry about the other one getting offended by a joke or drunken words. I’d honestly believed we were soulmates, for a long time, but that night had wrecked it all.
Both of us had been stupid, it had been the celebratory night of our win in the Nations League, we’d beaten Spain, it was a big deal. Everyone was completely wasted and I didn’t remember much of the night until Leah had been on the dance floor with Jordan, Chloe, Millie, Rachel and some other teammates and one moment Leah is motioning for me to join me and the next Jordan is making out with her and I’m running out with Lucy following me. Then Lucy called Ale because I’d locked myself in our hotel room ensuite. Then Ale was there and she was comforting me and hugging me and I was pissed off at Leah and then I was kissing Ale and she was telling me no and the Leah walked in to comfort me and it was just a fucking mess of alcohol and emotions.
Just thinking about that night had hurt, I hadn’t let myself in the last month. Not when I’d been in Cabo drinking all day and night, clubbing and partying and spending all of my spare time trying to push my emotions away. Then I’d gotten the call from Sarina, I’d been expecting it but it had still shocked me for some reason. In a matter of 24 hours I’d been packing up all my shit and hopping on a plane back to the one place that I couldn’t have been more desperate to avoid. I’d contemplated turning down the call up, but a call from my agent had told me that I couldn’t expect an invite back if I turned one down now. The Olympics was a big deal as well, it was something that I did want to do but the overwhelming anxiety I had felt being faced with the reality that I was walking into a group of people that worshipped the ground that my ex girlfriend walked on.
My thought pattern was interrupted by the sound of knocking directly above my head. The sound pulsated against the wood and across my body, seeping deep into my bones. It was a resounding knock, loud, echoing across the room.
“Y/n, open up.”
It was the voice that I least wanted to hear at that moment and I tried my hardest to ignore it but the sound of the knocking repeating made it harder.
“Y/n/n, c’mon, open the door, I know you're in there.”
It was the nickname that only she called me, a nickname I hadn’t heard in a month and it hurt my soul hearing it. It made fresher tears fall from my eyes that I rubbed at furiously with the sleeve of my jumper. I wiped as much of the smudged mascara and tears from my face, I knew subconsciously that my eyes were red and puffy and Leah would one hundred percent be able to tell. For my dignity though I rubbed it all from my face before standing up and opened the door.
Before I could say anything Leah had slipped past me and into the room, making herself at home and sitting down on Keira’s bed, resting herself at the very top so she was leaning against the headboard. I pushed down any thoughts that I had about Leah being in the same position in our own bed, except with a lot less clothes covering her body.
“You’ve been crying.”
It wasn’t a question, a statement, but it held a question in it somewhere. Leah wasn’t used to me crying, so the fact that I was crying was probably a little bit of a shock to her.
“What do you want?”
Leah pouted at me, sarcastically, it pissed me off how confident she was when I felt like I was tearing at the seams.
“In case you didn’t remember, we’re roomies now. I wanted to talk, I think we both have stuff we need to get off of our chests. I love you y/n/n and I’m worried about you.”
“Go worry about Jordan.”
I was leaning against the dresser, trying my hardest to keep my shit together in front of the woman that was making me feel so many things that I had been denying myself for a month.
“That’s fair, but also not necessary. I didn’t kiss her y/n, I didn’t even get as close as a metre’s distance from her, anyone there could tell you that. I pushed her off me. So yes, she kissed me, without my consent or my desire for her to do so. I love you, not her. I promise you that. She means nothing to me beyond being my friend, I don’t love her.”
I didn’t really know what to say. Leah wasn’t really the root of my anger, because I knew that it had been Jordan all over Leah, and at the end of the day she’d come to my room that night to apologise instead of going back to Jordan’s, I was her priority.
“She loves you, and I can’t do anything about that. That hurts and I know that it shouldn’t, I have no right to be jealous but it hurts.”
Leah looked contemplatively at me, like she was trying to understand what I was saying but knew that she couldn’t really.
“Do you love Alexia?”
I gulped, that was a fucked up question that I didn’t have a answer for. My immediate silence gave enough context to that.
“That’s not a fair question.”
I was deflecting and also furiously toying with a loose thread on the edge of my jumper.
“I think I deserve to know if the woman I love loves me the same way.”
It was hard hearing those words come out of her mouth as well.
“I would be lying if I said I didn’t love her. I dated her for six years, I thought I was going to marry her. I don’t love her like I loved you. We broke up because we couldn’t love each other that way. It was a surface relationship, but we both knew at the end of the day that we couldn’t get married or have kids or get old together, we didn’t love each other like that. We didn’t have a messy break up, I didn’t have a phase where I hated her and I wanted nothing more than to be away from her. We just stopped physically loving each other. She’s still my person Leah, you know that. I regret kissing her, I was so drunk and I was so fucking upset and she was so familiar to me in that moment. So maybe I do love her, in some fucked up way, but I don’t love her long term. She’s not the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life loving, not the person that I want to wake up next to, not the person that I want to write vows for, not the person that I want to be with every minute of every day. I don’t yearn for her.”
I realised now that there were tears in Leah’s eyes, which shocked me a little. Leah never cried, I could count the amount of times I’d seen her properly sob on one hand. Four times. When we won the Euros, when she did her ACL, when she woke up from ACL surgery and that night when it had all happened. Apart from that she was a brick wall, she wore a facade everyday, that very little people got to see broken down. I considered myself very grateful to have been able to see past it, to see the side of Leah that not a lot did. She’d let a stray tear go every once in a while, but proper crying, proper emotional, vulnerable crying was very rare to see.
“Do you love me long term?”
“Leah, that's not a fair question either.”
Tears were running down Leah’s face, similar to the tears that had been falling down my face less than five minutes ago.
“It's not fair? I’ve been here for the last month y/n, wondering if we still stand a chance. Wondering if you still love me, wondering if I should wait around for you? I want to know if you still love me as much as I love you.”
I could feel more tears coming to my eyes, Leah was sitting not even three metres away from me and yet it felt like we were oceans apart.
“I don’t know. Does it really matter?”
Leah was wiping at her face, she detested vulnerability and it was clear in her actions.
“Does it matter? Y/n/n, I am trying to figure out if I am going to spend the rest of my life fucking mourning losing the love of my life. I want to know if I stand a chance, if there is something here that we can salvage, something here that we can try and fix. I will spend everyday making it up to you if I have to, anything you need us to do I am down to do it.”
I shifted from toe to toe in my spot standing, Leah’s words were so genuine, they had so much power over me, sent shivers down my whole body.
“I love you. I love you enough though to tell you that I’m a fucking wreck, some of it’s because of this, some of it is just me. Leah I’m trying to fucking sort myself out now and I love you but I’m not going to tell you that your my priority right now, I love you but I also am trying to learn how to love myself and I’m also trying to learn how to love my sport again.”
Leah pursed her lips, wiping the last of her emotional admission tears from her face. She looked so raw, her blonde hair was thrown up in a messy high bun, an unusual look for her, her face was stripped bare of any makeup and her jumper looked a tad bit too big on her. She looked stripped, stripped of her dignity, stripped of her facade, stripped of everything that made her Leah motherfucking Williamson. I wasn’t looking at England’s captain, I wasn’t looking at Arsenal and England’s world class defenders. I was looking at just Leah. The Leah who would wake me up with forehead kisses every morning, the Leah who would give me foot massages after a rough training, the Leah who would only look at me in a room full of people.
“I’ve worried about you so much that I started to get scared I was praying. You took off and I didn’t know with who or where. I mean I know that I fucked up but y/n/n, we could have talked it out, or we could have tried to. You fled and you didn’t even give me a goodbye. I didn’t know if we were done or if I was ever going to see you again and it fucking broke me. I stayed in bed for a week, I didn’t eat, I didn’t leave. Keira and Lucy literally had to drag me out of bed to get me to do anything. I cried, non stop for a week, it was horrible and I felt like shit. Then Lucy got Alexia to come over and we talked it out and she told me that she didn’t mean for it to happen and all she wanted was for us to be happy and it broke me because how am I supposed to be happy when the woman I love is nowhere to be seen.”
A sob echoed from her chest and it broke my heart, because I hated seeing Leah in pain, I hated seeing her hurt. When she’d done her ACL it had been the most gut wrenching thing I’d had to witness. The only difference was that now I was the source of pain and it hurt ten times more.
I pushed myself off of the dresser and towards the bed. Leah’s head was buried in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees as her palms rubbed furiously at her eyes. I sat down onto the bed and pushed myself up against the headboard beside her, putting one of my arms down on her shoulders and gently nudging her head into my neck. It was uncharted territory but also felt so familiar and right. Hearing Leah’s sobs hurt my soul, but my contact seemed to calm her a little bit. She flinched away initially, unsure but then she was seeking it out, leaving into me and everything about it felt right.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for what happened with Jordan, I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel loved, I’m sorry if I didn’t treat you well enough, I’m sorry if I’m not good enough. I’m trying to work on it, I’m trying to be better,” I stopped Leah before she could say much more.
“It’s not your fault Leah,” My voice came out with exasperation, because I hated that Leah felt that way,
“You made me feel loved everyday, you treated me perfectly. You are perfect Leah, you were a perfect girlfriend, a perfect captain, a perfect person. We had our moments but you are a good person, you don’t need to be better. I’m the one who can’t fucking handle herself, who had to flee the country when it got rough and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that I ran when it got hard.”
Hearing Leah hiccup on her breath was so painful for me, painful enough that I reached my hand down to her face to try and wipe some of the tears off of her cheeks.
“C’mon, you're too pretty to be crying.”
It was a weak compliment that died with the mood of the room, Leah let out a depressing laugh that honestly just made it all worse but her sobs did quieten down a little bit and I noticed that the tremors that were haunting her whole body had slowed down and had become less of a repetitive pattern.
“You haven’t been eating, you lost two stones, did I do that to you?”
Leah’s voice was so shaky, so insanely innate for her.
“Me not eating has nothing to do with you and I won’t have you taking the blame for it. Not everything is your fault Leah and you don’t have to take the blame for it all. I know how your brain works, that you are going to take the blame for everything that has happened between us, but it’s not your fault, a lot of it is mine, my eating habits though have nothing to do with you.”
My voice was a mixture of steady and stern, I had a point to get across and I needed Leah to understand that, I needed her to know that. She wasn’t as fearless and brave as she constantly tried to prove to anyone, she was always the first to blame herself for anything, always getting down on herself and I knew that, I knew that Leah could send herself into a downward spiral.
She pulled her head out of my shoulder and locked eyes with me, her dark brown eyes felt like they were violating me, I felt like I was naked under her gaze, like I was so incredibly vulnerable.
“Why haven’t you been eating?”
I felt like I was under a magnifying glass, like Leah could see every single part of me and could see into my brain. She always worried about me, always. To the point where sometimes it was concerning, I had as much as a sniffle and she was doting over me like my mother.
“I’m fine Lee.”
“If you were fine you wouldn’t have lost two stones.”
She could read me too easily and she knew that I was pretty much putty in her hands as soon as she started talking.
“It got dark for me when I left, I needed to leave but then I was gone and I realised that I was so alone and I was partying to try and avoid my feelings and it worked but you know how I am when I’m depressed, I stop eating, I stop functioning. I lived off of alcohol for three weeks and then I got the call from Sarina and for the first time in three weeks I was completely sober and it hit me like a freight train. I realised how bad it had gotten and I was in shambles.”
Leah nodded at me, she knew how I worked, knew that when I was starting to spiral I tended to push it all down until it got so bad that I had a nervous breakdown.
“You need to eat, we need you playing, I need you on the field. It broke my heart when Sarina came and told me, when she asked me if I’d seen any of the warning signs or if I’d noticed and I couldn’t give her an answer.”
I brought my hand back up to rest on Leah’s face, she was still shaking, still hiccuping with every word that she said. I pushed the tears that were pooling on her face away with the pad of my thumb.
“I couldn’t even tell her anything.”
Leah’s words were thrown out between choken sobs and hiccups, it was so strung out and painful that I felt it in my chest.
“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, I’m sorry I deserted you. I’m so sorry I hurt you Lee, you deserve better, you deserve someone who has their shit together.”
Leah pulled herself out from beside me and scooted herself so she was sitting in front of me, between my legs looking at me directly.
“I want you though, I want to love you and I want you to let me.”
I couldn’t do much more than look at her, look at her eyes, look at how heartbroken they were. They were full of so much pain, so many sleepless nights and a part of me wanted to fix some of that.
“Let us be happy, let all of this devastation come to an end and just let us be happy. We’ll work through what happened, we can try therapy, or something else. I want you though y/n/n, I want you forever and I don’t want us to give up on that because of some stupid shit that happened when we were drunk.”
Those fucking eyes, they held the sun and the moon, they had the power to make me do anything.
“I want to try, for us. I still think that you are my forever Leah. I just don’t want either of us to get hurt in the process.”
“Love hurts, we work through it. Please just try it for me.”
Her lip was wobbling in between her teeth and it took every single piece of self control I had to not take that lip in my own and just kiss the woman like I wanted to.
“Okay.”
Leah’s face lit up almost immediately, like a kid in a candy store. She leant in towards me, her lips hovering centimetres away from my own and her eyes looking into my own and it took literally every piece of my self control not to initiate anything.
“Is this okay?”
Leah’s voice was calmer this time, less rough on the edges, less broken. I nodded eagerly at her and relaxed into her body as she pressed her lips to mine. It was soft, tender, relaxing, so perfect.
“How about this?”
It was murmured against my lips, a small smirk forming along Leah’s lips.
“So good, but I think we are both overdue for some sleep.”
Leah frowned against my lips but nodded, we were both tired and it was obvious in our actions. She plopped herself down next to me, relaxing into my body and laying her head against my chest.
“Flick the lamp of love.”
The term of endearment sent a shiver down my back, it was so normal and yet so shocking to me. I obeyed her immediately, turning over to the bedside lamp and flicking it off so we were left in the dark. I shrugged my jacket off before relaxing down into the pillow. Leah shifted around for a few seconds, finding a comfortable spot on my body before stilling herself. She looked so small curled up against me, I tugged her hair out of its bun and rubbed her roots just the way I knew she liked me too and rubbed her back the way I knew sent her straight to sleep. It probably took not even a minute before Leah’s body relaxed fully and her breaths evened out and when they did I smiled a little bit looking at her exhausted form. I leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before relaxing myself fully against the pillows and preparing myself for my own sleep.
“I love you Leah, always.”
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Susan Pevensie comes back from Narnia and tries to forget, not because she doesn't believe in Narnia anymore, but because it hurts too much thinking about what she lost.
In Narnia, she was revered, respected. People wrote songs about her, asked for her hand in marriage. She was with her siblings, and she was free, and she could finally stop worrying about her brothers dying in an air raid. She had a people she protected, a land she ruled, and family to look after. She was respected in courts and battefields alike.
Narnia brought other problems, of course. Not all her suitors were kind about her rejection, and Peter and Edmund were expected to lead armies, which meant they were always in the line of fire. More than once had they come home with grave injuries that took months to recover from, even with Lucy's secret potion.
It is this Narnia Susan vividly remembers just aftee she comes back, a wild and savage land where magic roams free, but evil roams free too. It is the Narnia of eternal winter, of giants and ogres, of Aslan dying on the Stone Table. The Narnia of Telmarines, of dead friends, of failed sieges.
England forces her back into obedience, into a mold. Tells her to behave in a way expected of a young lady. Lucy can stay wild a little longer, but Susan has an education to focus on, men to impress. England tells her she is below her brothers again, should get married and have kids.
So Susan tries to forget, convincing herself that the stiff upper lip, tight collars, kneelong skirts, ridicule from adults when she speaks her mind and forced silence is better than the freedom she had in Narnia.
For that freedom had to be paid for in blood. At least in England her family and friends don't risk dying, not after the war.
She alienates from her brothers and sister further. She tells them Narnia was a game, a fantasy. But the difference in faith is also due tk the way she has to hide how it changed her. Peter, Lucy and Edmund do not have to. The boys write long essays about justice and religion, join the fencing team. Lucy dances everywhere she goes and is known to never wear shoes if she can help it.
But the archery club at school will not accept Susan. Neither will the debate team. Her teachers are annoyed with the fact she never slips up, disgruntled at the fact a woman runs rings around them intelectually. Susan is a young woman after a time of war, and all of society would rather she shut up and do what she is told.
Soon, Susan has new friends, new things that matter. All these adult thoughts she can only discuss with her brothers and sister drive her crazy, and there is no one around that takes them seriously. And so she tries to grow up as fast as possible, get to an age where people listen to her again. She forgets so that she doesn't have to deal with the feeling she was meant for much more, to ease the mourning of all that she lost when she kissed Caspian goodbye.
All the Pevensies start forgetting Narnia slowly, the memories fading. Soon none of them remember the names of their generals at Beruna. They forget the smell of battle, the weight of an iron sword in their hands. But they all still walk as if their crowns are on their heads, and ride horses in a way none of their instructors understand. It takes a while before they are back to their Narnian levels, but it is clear to them someone has instructed them before. None of them can figure out what commands they use, however. Is it western style, perhaps? Or maybe rodeo? They cannot have been taught in England, not with the amount of control they can exert with and without saddles, the sense of balance. Some of their teachers are astonished by their academic growth, but others attribute it to the lax education standards after the war. Susan is sold short most often, but all the Pevensie children suffer from arguments with teachers and attitude problems. Teachers generally don't like it if you behave like you are older or more important than them. It's worse because they are almost never wrong, even though all of them feel the effects that having a teenage brain has on their speed of thought and the coherence of their arguments.
The Pevensies deal with these remnants of Narnia in different ways. Susan becomes an actress. She picks West End over Oxford because the stage is a place she is allowed to be free. And since Narnia, dry textbooks don't thrill her like they used to, while the fantasy concepts of spirits and courts and magic and other things thespians work with entince her all the more. Inside her is a longing to become someone else. She knows where it comes from, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it.
Susan plays a queen often, or a diplomat, or a model. Something about her performances have audiences hooked, convinced she was royalty in a different life.
Remembering Narnia hurts. She scolds someone for being reckless with the stage props while teaching them the correct way for a full minute before realizing the person in question is older than her, and doesn't listen to a young woman. He has the same name as her younger brother.
So Susan forgets. But as she carves her way into the elite of old Hollywood, years later, she begins to remember as well. What it's like to have a voice. How it feels like to have people listen.
When Lucy, Edmund and Peter die in the train accident, Susan weeps for days. She knows what she has lost in them. She is now the only person fluent in their interpersonal language, the only one that still remembers the mating call of the centaurs, what jokes a forest spirit makes. She is now truly alone in the world.
Narnia comes rushing back to her during this grieving period. Eventually, she remembers that she used to have a voice, a crown, lovers of whatever gender she wanted. And also how Narnia would have you pay for freedom in blood. They gave up on that freedom to protect her siblings. only to lose them anyways. Suddenly, Susan remembers how Narnia was fair, how a bargain struck was a bargain kept. She remembers the nymphs, the trees in spring. She remembers the beauty of it all.
Later, when Susan is a grown woman and an arrived actor in Hollywood, Aslan begins returning to her dreams. He never speaks to her, but the sight of him gives her strenght. She was once Susan the Gentle, who accompanied Aslan to his death. It is time she returns to being that person.
After the Stonewall riots and during the AIDS epidemic, Susan is the only actress willing to make a public stand. It costs her 2 box office hits and a 3 month ban from the tabloids. But she remembers justice, and the price of freedom. Others start looking to her for wisdom, just like they did all those years ago. Susan feels her quiet strenght returning, her faith slowly coming back.
She stops wishing she could forget Narnia. The magic that was responsible for the memory faded with time. Maybe it was just to protect her from mourning a world where she was so much more.
When Susan looks at the boys coming back from wars in Korea and Vietnam, she recognizes the look in their eyes. Reflected in their behaviour is a maturity that shouldn't be present in teenagers. The loss of innocence, the unrepairable damage to their childhood illusions. It is a look she spent her twenties avoiding mirrors for, because she knew what it meant. No matter what she told herself then, she believed in Narnia. She still does now.
She knows her siblings are in a different place now, and that she revoked her faith in that place, but slowly, as the years grey her hair and wrinkle her face, she begins to believe she may one day join them there. She remembers Aslan as a kind lion, even if he wasn't a tame one.
She grew old in Narnia once, after all. She hopes to die there.
Once a queen of Narnia, always a queen of Narnia
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nocturnesmoon · 5 months
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-Archaic Blood Masterlist-
Thinking about TF141 and vampire reader, it's probably been done before but i can't get it out of my head. All the potential it has both fluff, angst and plot. Because listen listen listen
What if
You are a vampire contracted by the military, except the vampire part is a very well-kept secret. You're old, your life spans all the way back to when they burned witches at the stake. You were an ordinary person back then, careful and with your own beliefs and superstitions like anyone. The rumors and sightings of witches, vampires, and werewolves was things you didn't concern yourself with. At least until you sighted it yourself, and you got pulled in.
Taking slight dnd logic, at least in the sense that the vampire that turned you ended up in control over you. You were trapped there along with quite a few other vampire spawn, all subjected to the same type of abuse and torture over decades. You got used to it, the drive to get away was beaten out of you as you blindly obeyed your master.
You had lost hope of rescue or even just the sweet relief of actual death, until the castle got raided by military. You fought against them by command of the vampire lord, but in a moment of clarity you ripped yourself free from the clawing grip it had on your mind. You pushed against your master, and killed them in their already injured state, granting you the freedom you had wanted for so long.
You still had your immortal strife, but now a free vampire spawn, you finally had a sense of will again, you had hope again. You didn't know why the military decided to spare you, they had butchered your brothers and sisters along with your creator, but someone took interest in you.
And free from one prison you went right into another.
It quickly became clear to you that their goal was to make you something short of a super soldier. Your vampirism gave you a heightened set of abilities, and with a few drawbacks they could utilize you well during missions. Despite your attempts of escape, your newly granted freedom was put on a new leash. You were given a handler, someone to train you into obedience as if you hadn't spent decades being under the control of a single person.
It didn't matter how much you protested; they were insistent that you owed them for "saving" you. So reluctantly you leaned into it, you found that you actually had a lot of fun on these types of missions they would send you on. You did various things; a lot of your time was spent on hunting other monsters like yourself. Both werewolves, vampires, witches, and other mythical creatures since you were much better at sniffing them out.
You proved yourself time and time again, and eventually you became rather trusted. Eventually you would outgrow your handler, unlike them you weren't burdened with aging mortality. So, every few decades, an accident or event would stage your death, and you'd come back under a new name and skillset.
Every single persona you carried got known around the military for different things, though they all had the monster hunting specialty in common. The only people knowing the truth being yourself and a select amount of your higher ups that handled you.
Now you've found yourself settled in your life in the military, it isn't what you expected but you deal with it easily enough. Until the call comes that you're going to be working with a certain Taskforce 141, and the group you meet change everything.
You're paired up with them for an indefinite amount of time, the goal being hunting a cult of monsters that's been stirring up things and risking the public eye figuring out about the existence of monsters. Laswell contacted your handlers for your assistance and thereby sort of became your new temporary handler. In the start she was the only one that knew of your vampirism, and you tried to keep it that way, but it was hard when the others were quite observant of their new addition to the team.
You get along just fine with them, there's a distance between you all at first. A professional distance that doesn't allow you to get to know them all too well. It's a distance you try to keep up, try to maintain but quickly crumbles when you find you enjoy their company a lot more than normal.
Soap always finds a reason to talk to you, either inquiring you about what you're doing or info dumping about his latest find. You allow him to stay, listening to his ramblings with a gentle smile on your face, as you continue typing up your report.
Gaz likes to engage you in different activities, be it card games, video games, training together. It's often paired with Soap and creates quite the chaotic environment, but one that never fails to make you laugh like you've never done before. You even start to suspect that the two of them are teaming up on getting you to open up to them.
Price has his way with complimenting you, he observes your work and your determination with great interest. He notices how much hard work you put into the missions and even outside of missions. He appreciates having someone who's so dedicated, but he also knows you can't possibly be resting enough and finds himself pulling you away from your work to have rest together, however that might be.
Ghost isn't as quick to accept you as the others, he respects you from a work standpoint but other than that there's something about you that doesn't sit right with him. He chalks it up to you just being an unpredictability, an uneven equation to the stability he's used to with the other 141 members. He genuinely tries to get closer with you when he sees how much the rest enjoy your company, but that uneasy feeling is still something he can't shake.
Ghost is probably the first to start suspecting things, maybe even fully figure it out. Everyone probably starts to notice things every now and then, they're smart men, they're hunting a cult of monsters that includes vampires, they know of some of the behaviors.
It also gets harder and harder for you to mask your instincts, the more comfortable you get with them the more you forget to be careful. You start feeling too safe with them, forgetting the fact of who you are. They start noticing how you don't really eat, at least never with them. Every time they invite you to join them, you find some convenient excuse.
Another thing they start to notice is your adverse nature to light. Your room always have the blinds closed and lights off. You gravitate towards the shadows, you feel more welcome in them, and Ghost swears that one time he saw your eyes glow red in the darkness.
Every time you're out in the sunlight, you wear extensive gear or covering clothes. Full balaclava, sunglasses, gloves, almost none of your skin is ever shown to the rays of the sun. The one time Soap asked you about it, you gave the excuse that your skin is just very sensitive to the sun, that you get sunburns easily because of sensitive skin and just prefer the shade.
Your heightened sensitivity is something Price and Ghost notices quick. Your sharp movements, your overly quick thinking, your stamina, and strength don't line up with the humanely possible. Not to mention the way you stare at blood a little too intensely when you come across it.
Whenever Price asks Laswell about you, every bit of information he gets out of her is vague and doesn't always add up. Even when he gets his hands on your file, and goes over it with the team, despite how impressive your record is, there are things on it that doesn't make sense with how long you've supposedly been alive.
The breakpoint happens when Gaz finds your stash of blood packs. He didn't even mean to be nosy in your room, but he was looking for something of his that you had borrowed, and stumbled upon them. His eyes wide as he looks back at you, the things he's been thinking, and the small whispers he's shared with the rest about you, now all confirmed to be true.
You try to talk him down, but you know by the way he looks at you that you're starting to form as a threat in his mind. He tries to get away, maybe to get backup or find something specific to defend himself with, but you manage to tackle him down. Not exactly helping his griping fear. Only then do you manage to talk him down, assure him that you aren't a threat and that you won't hurt anyone.
He leaves it reluctantly, mumbling agreeance, but you're aware that he's not going to keep it secret. It's just about who moves faster now. You like the relationship you've built with the 141, you're even starting to get through to Ghost, and it wasn't something you were keen on losing. So, Laswell calls a meeting, it was time to let them know.
Everyone gathers, confused at the sudden emergency meeting, except for Gaz who is staring you down, his leg bouncing furiously against the ground. You do your best to not look threatening, to prepare yourself for possible worse reactions.
"They're a vampire spawn," Laswell tells them, ”And they've been helping the military control the remaining monsters in the world for a very long time now." she states as if it's most normal thing in the world to have a free vampire spawn on your team you're supposed to trust. Though their response surprise you.
"We know"
At first you think you weren't quick enough, that Gaz got to them before you did. But you quickly find out most of them have been suspicious for months, and eventually came to terms with it. Gaz's outburst just stemmed from shock and impulse thinking. They all have quite a few questions, ranging from trivial to stupid and some just plain curiosity.
You're most surprised to find that they don't want to view you any different than they already have, that they enjoy your company just as much as you've enjoyed theirs. They still want to work with you, they still want to be around you. It makes your unbeating heart flutter, and your nonexistent blood rush in excitement of the future possibilities.
They've accepted you into their own little pack, you don't know it yet, but they've already claimed you as theirs. If they could have it their way, and they will, you won't be working for any other taskforce again in a very long time, and you think that this might just be the most interesting decade yet, in your long, long life.
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I really wanna write more about this, vampire tropes always have me frothing at the mouth-
Sorry for the word vomit but i had to get this out my head, i can't be the only thinking about this, the potential-
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reidsdaisies · 6 months
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hey bb can i req a cute first date with spencer at a coffee shop or bakery or whatever but he’s jus super fucking nervous and shows up 30 mins early and bouncing his leg and stutter and almost piss himself (not really but you get the gist)
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐬
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༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; nervous!spencer x kind of sunshine fem!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ warnings; first date jitters, mentions of food, i think that’s it.
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.7k
༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; congrats on being my first req! (as if i didn’t quite literally beg u) i wrote this and then realized you probably meant you wanted to see him actually be nervous during the date but i worked too hard to let this go to waste. hope u can forgive me for that bae 😥
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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If you were to ask Spencer Reid to provide you with a detailed summarization of the whole Star Trek series, his eyes would light up and he’d get lost in his long rambles about scientific fact this and scientific fact that.
But if you were to ask him proper first date etiquette, he'd freeze up and look around awkwardly for a way to escape the conversation.
Or, in short, he knows nothing about first dates. He’s never been on a date. With anyone. Ever.
That's why he's currently pacing down a short length of the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for the sign giving him the go ahead to cross the street.
He would never be in this predicament if you, the peppy girl with a permanent smile seemingly plastered to her face, hadn't been bold enough to strike up a random conversation and ask his awkward, nerdy self out on a date to a new bakery that you informed him just opened up.
"If you're free Sunday, I'd love for you to come try their beignets with me! I've heard they're to die for."
The way you had initially proposed the offer made it seem so casual, until once he agreed, you followed it up with another, more clearly labeled exclamation.
“Sounds like we’ve got a date!"
Truth be told, he’d never particularly liked beignets all that much, but when the offer was served to him so graciously, he couldn't deny. No one can blame him. Who would have denied that beautiful, bright, contagious smile? Definitely not Spencer.
Once his hand is pulling open the bakery's door, he knows there's no going back. Not that he's a quitter, but he is unbelievably—or maybe pretty believably, we are still talking about Spencer here—nervous.
With a quick glance at his watch, he realizes just how much he overestimated the amount of time it'd take him to walk here. He's not just on time, he's a whole 26 minutes early.
Not near early enough to beat his record, but still very early compared to the advice Garcia had given him about showing up “fashionably late”, as she put it.
This only adds to his stress. Being alone, in a part of the city he's never been before, waiting for a girl who might not even be on her way yet. Yeah, he's cracking.
Spencer’s fingers tighten around the bouquet in his hands, flowers all picked out for the same reason—they reminded him exactly of the perfume you had on during your first meeting.
In attempt to calm himself down and get some fresh air, he slowly backs out of the bakery, the bell chiming, gaining a confused look from one of the workers.
Before he even has a sliver of a second to be embarrassed, his phone buzzes, a text asking if he’s on his way yet appearing on screen.
Taking a quick look around, his eyes landing on you standing in front of the bakery with your back to the window, dressed in a casual floral dress with a long coat over top, your hair blowing around you in the breeze as you look down at your phone.
He’d never thought he’d be so grateful for another person being just as overly punctual as him, you saving him from a half hour of sitting alone in silence.
“I-,” Spencer clears his throat. “I’m here!” He walks over to you hesitantly.
The first thing you notice when you look up from your phone is his fists clenched right around the base of a colorful bouquet, stems crushed from his deadly grip.
“Hey, Spencer!” You greet the man, wrapping him up in a tight hug. When you pull away, he’s looking down at you, eyes sparkling but jaw still slightly trembling.
“These flowers, they’re for you.” His voice is slightly timid, his eyes set on the pavement as he holds the bouquet out expectantly.
Your expression softens when he struggles to get his words out, but you treat him no different, accepting the flowers gratefully.
“A whole bouquet? You’re the sweetest, Spence!” Another bright smile takes over your face, throwing your arms over his shoulders, bringing him in for yet another hug.
He’s stiff for a moment before he realizes you’re not going anywhere, and you’re giving no clear signs as to you not wanting him there, so with a slight confidence boost, he lets his arm slowly slither down to your waist, holding you flush against him.
“Let’s uhm, let’s get those beignets.”
This time when you pull away, instead of letting the anxiety get to him, he’s smiling along with you, ready to follow your lead into the bakery.
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teaboot · 1 month
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Who is your OC that is the most fleshed out? Anything you care to share about them? What is a small detail about them that you rarely think about?
*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer within a certain amount of time or at all.*
YOU TRICKED ME INTO WRITING AGAIN
BÁTARD!
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There is an old rotting seat in the middle of the woods where a young man appears to lay dead. His face is pale, his skin is tinted with mildew, his old wool coat is moth-eaten and moldy. A layer of topsoil covers his lap. His hair, slowly greening, has been plucked at by birds.
A long time ago, a man won a single wish, and knowing that wealth was fleeting and power brought danger, wished for incredible knowledge.
The wish granted him understanding of machinery, of magics, of medicine and physics, and insight into endless possibility. So much information that he cannot stop thinking, making connections, processing it all, struggling to grasp it.
Always thinking, he found soon that he could not fall asleep. Medicines helped for a short while, but he was never truly rested, and through desperation or happenstance he found with some horror that he also could not die.
The story is that a point came where he brought upon himself some sort of curse, to sleep, and to dream, and to never be disturbed.
Excepting, of course, under very specific circumstance.
Not everyone can see him, but those who do have affectionately named him "Alexander".
(He is more or less a landmark, like an oddly-shaped rock by the side of the road.)
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Nevaeh is The Daedalus. She has no idea what that means. She has never gotten lost, no matter how far she's wandered.
Her bus always arrives at the stop shortly after she does. When she rides her bike, there is never a roadblock or construction in the way. She isn't always on schedule, but even when she's late, she seems to arrive on time.
She loves her parents. She likes to bake. Her sister is a dork, but they get along fine. Life is good- things are normal.
(Things are not normal.)
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Jessie's name is not Jessie.
Probably.
Jessie gives different people different names.
Nobody's quite sure if they're human or a fairy of some kind, but they seem to show up everywhere and never seem particularly fazed by what's going on.
They always seem to be upbeat and unconcerned, but not in an uncaring sort of way- it's more like they just have this unshakeable confidence that everything is always going to end up fine.
Jessie is at the party, holding the host's cat. Nobody knows who invited them. Nobody knows anyone who knows them that well. Jessie offers you a corn chip.
Jessie is at the town hall meeting, sitting in the back row with their feet resting on the chair in front of them. They don't ask questions or interject, but seem interested as they snack on rainbow kettle corn.
Jessie is at the sacrificial ceremony, deep in the bowels of the community rec center. As candles flicker around you and the sound of chanting voices grow closer, they tuck a hard candy into your pocket and tell you not to worry so much.
(Jessie does not untie you from the dias.)
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None of these guys are my main character, but they're probably my favorites!!! Thank you so much for asking, I need to get back to work on this! ♡♡♡♡♡ oh, I'm all excited again!!! Aadfgghhfjgdgsggffk ❤
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mischiefmaker615 · 2 months
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Cheeky Minx
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Summary: Disobeying Loki has some.. particular consequences.
Rating: R
Requested Poll DM by: @gigglingtiggerv2
Promp: Loki (thinking) what is she doing here, on Asgard? She swore to me- No matter, someone is clearly overdue a spanking, to remind them of their promises!
Front Row Seats: @sharris8 @foxherder @emeraldeyesloki @kenzie-luvzz @liminalpebble @mischief-blood
Loki’s POV
Even a mere day is to long away from my Y/N and it pains me not to have her in my sights, let alone holding the knowledge that we are currently in two different realms at the moment.
Despite how I feel about those low-life heroes, they will serve at least a decent amount of usefulness as protection while I deal with a few meetings here on Asgard, and yet it still doesn’t calm my mind.
With so much to do, I can’t help but think of her throughout my attempts to busy and distract myself. i count each second until I can finally return to her side.. Though she might not be initially happy for having to leave her behind despite how many times she’s begged to accompany me.
It is the last night for me here on Asgard before I can make my return and festivities have been thrown to celebrate an accomplishment after a long attempt to receive it and yet I do not wish to participate. I am not missed in the slightest and I frankly doubt people even realize I am not even at the party. I’ve acted to retreat and watch from the balconies, hoping sleep might meet me up here but I find myself wide awake still.
The music and cheering is hardly enough agitation to send me away from a palace ball but I find any domestic pleasures have lost my interest if Y/N isn’t here. I merely find even now that my dulled mood has started to get into my head because I could have sworn seeing Y/N herself down in the crowds, weaving through with an untouched glass of Asgard’s alcohol in her hand.
That be impossible, we both know it is merely impossible for her to handle her wine and stay standing. The more impossible fact would be her being here in the first place, after having her promise abundantly she would find no way to follow.. but the fact was in the back of my mind that this might have something to do involving my brother’s help back at that damn Midgardian’s tower.
As my eyes follow her form, in her shimmery silver dress that hugged her body perfectly, her proportions were spot on to my Y/N. the way her hips swayed, her hair fell perfectly the way she wanted it with spending an extra few minutes giving it special attention in the mornings, the way she laughed or said excuse me with a shy wave whenever she brushed up against a stranger..
My hands gripped the balcony edge as I watched her, my eyes trained and even from this far distance, I can practically smell her wonderful perfume from here. Y/N.. my Y/N.. she was here..
But how? what is she doing here, on Asgard? Thor had to have something to do with this despite how I warned him to refuse her efforts on getting him to cave.. She swore to me-
My eyes closed for a mere second so I could take a deep breath and compose myself. No matter, I believe someone is overdue for their lesson on how they should behave and to obey. She’s here now, that’s all that matters and she will learn..
I could feel my cape flow behind me by my pace I have set for myself that indicated that I was not in a rush nor in a panic, but the servants knew well to get out of my way. I made my way through the halls and across the ball floor, indicating each step where my pace would not faulter as others continued their dancing and strolling. My heart rate picked up when I had her in my sights again, seeing how she was speaking to a couple while she raised her hand to take a sip of her glass. Just before it could touch her lips, my hand caught her delicate wrist.
‘’I believe you’ll find that a bit to strong for you darling-‘’ my words fell short as her eyes locked into mine, wide from my appearance, excited by knowing who I was, and glassy that indicated she apparently already has had a few sips of it. by gods she will learn tonight..
‘’Loki!’’ she exclaimed and hugged me with her arms around my neck while my hand slipped the glass into my own so she wouldn’t accidently spill and I placed it on a passing tray before my arms were around her as well. I
My body felt like it was melting and I wanted nothing more than to stay like that for hours but even now I held myself back so I wouldn’t catch unwanted attention. ‘’darling, come this way so that we may catch up’’ I urged and she held onto my arm as I nodded our departure from the couple before I led her through the crowd.
‘’I can’t believe I finally found you-‘’
‘’what did I tell you about coming here?’’ I warned her but I kept my tone light to keep her calm, knowing as she was slowly falling into intoxication, she might draw a scene.
‘’I know I know I just.. Thor offered to help me out when he saw I was down and I just missed you so much-‘’ she explained as she seemed to cuddle more into my arm, her bosom pressing against me, sending me a feeling of strain in my groin as I kept us going.
‘’despite Thor’s best intentions, he had no right to go against my requests.’’ I spoke calmly and her eyes avoided me.
‘’you just promised me to take me to Asgard a long time ago and yet you’ve gone twice in the same year.. I just want to know I can rely on you and your word before I have to take things into my own hands.’’
‘’like sneaking into Asgard for a night of fun?’’ I ask dryly, almost as if I were scolding a child as I switched my arm to hold onto her waist when I feel her pace change. Her silence gets my attention and I see her looking away with her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘’..what is it?’’
‘’..I’ve actually been here two days looking for you..’’
That did it. she was lucky we had already excited out of the palace gathering areas for the party and into the halls now because my next action would have made a scene. As soon as I realized she’s been here unsupervised for two days, she was over my shoulder in a heartbeat and I carried her at my regular stride towards my chambers.
I feel her hands press against my back as she looked forward, all exits and hopes of escape disappearing from her view before I bring her into my room and shut the door. Once its secured, she is set down with her back to the hall and my hands caging her in on either side of her head. She sobered up briefly as her hands and body pressed back against the wall.
‘’you have disobeyed my darling and are lucky you are here safe and alive with no form of chaos knocking on my door involving your appearance in the palace. Although you are intoxicated and will need to be retaught this lesson when you are sober and more aware, you’ve brought it upon me to have you punished for your actions.’’ I told her with my nose dangerously close to hers as I stare her down. her perfume and warmth has my groin straining again but I refrain to give in upon this time.. for now. First things first.
‘’..p-punishment?’’ she said quietly and feel one of my hands sliding behind her and up her back until it has a first grip on her dress zipper.
‘’you could have put yourself in danger and have disobeyed me, amongst many other things. Allow me to list them for you.’’ I offer, my tone almost to calm to have her take on a shy demeanor.
‘’what are you-‘’
In one smooth motion, I pulled down and the zipper followed with no delay until she had to use her dainty hands to keep it from slipping off her shoulders. she gave me a pleading look but I opted for an indifferent one. ‘’darling, you don’t wish to put yourself in a worse predicament than the one you already in, so do not deny it. it has been a rather long awhile after all anyway’’ I tried lightening the mood a bit, do to the fact that I don’t wish to be to harsh with her in her intoxicated state and gently took her hands away from herself, letting the silky fabric fall to the ground and leaving an eye full of beauty in just her undergarments.
‘’Loki.. I really didn’t mean anything by it or any trouble it may have risk causing-‘’ she interrupted herself with an adorable hiccup- causing me much stress into not wavering my demeanor just then before she continued while my eyes drank her in from the neck down. ‘’I just missed you that’s all- there could be worse things-‘’
‘’yes, and be thankfully you haven’t done then. A proper punishment will ensure- I hope- that you do not try such things after any warning has been left by me.’’ I warn her and take her by the hand, backing up so she followed, my eyes never leaving her ravishing swaying hips, lengthy legs and anywhere my eyes to look until I sit myself on my bed with her standing before me.
‘’Loki please..’’ she whispered but it didn’t sound like begging as my eyes flick up to hers with a coil smile. I know most of her actually enjoys the punishments, but I need the rest of her to thoroughly understand she needs to listen the first time.
‘’I so love it when you beg darling, but I don’t think you are sorry. However,’’ just as I spoke, my fingers had already curled at the top edges of her panties, my eyes staying trained with hers as I slowly slide them down. ‘’I do believe I should greet you properly before we get into it, I have missed you terribly..’’ I say, finding my heart and voice full of longing as I relish any second I get feeling her soft skin and she takes a step back as I push forward and sink to my knees.
My hands run up her thighs as her hands rest at my shoulders, supporting herself as I already see her shaking with anticipation. I’ve barely even touched her and already have her riled up, making me smirk and she knows it.
I lean forward just an inch away from her sex, inhaling her intoxicating scent that I knew had her blushing without me even having to look up at her. Her fingers dripped my shoulders in nervousness, even though this isn’t the first time we have been intimate. My hands on her thighs were gentle but I was clear that she would not move away no matter what. I flick my eyes up at her, holding love and also amusement at seeing how much she could squirm with very little effort from me before I used the tip of my tongue to barely graze her clit.
She sucked in a breath, her cheeks red and balance swayed as she looked down at me with intoxicated yet loving eyes as she bites her bottom lip. Gods the mere looks she gives me is enough to have my groin straining, begging for relief.. but this isn’t about me right now. This is about her, and always will be and I enjoy and relish ever moment of it as she begins panting while I administer with my tongue in slow, long strokes against her sex. However just as I began feeling her clench around my tongue, I lean away onto my heels, my eyes gazing up at her fast enough to catch her pout.
‘‘do not get carried away darling, there’s still a purpose here to administer.’’ I smirk, as if she had forgotten as I take hold of her wrist just as she was about to take a step back.
I stand up again and take a seat on the end of the bed, feeling her limb strain just slightly at what’s to come but she knows she won’t be able to break my hold; she never has. In one smooth motion, I full her forward and turn her so she lands in a position where she’s laying over my lap, her gorgeous ass displayed before me.
‘’L-Loki p-please..’’ she whines and if I hadn’t already known better, I would have thought she was begging for me to continue rather than relent.
‘’darling, although I am happy to see you and safe, I will administer three strikes. Not only have you broken your promise by coming to Asgard rather than remaining on Midgard like I’ve told you, you’ve put yourself in potential danger with foreign beings here. if any Asgardian would have found out that you were indeed a Midgardian, havoc would have rose on questioning our defenses. If you could get in, what else could.’’ I begin, hoping that even with the soul fate of a realm, she should see her carelessness as I gently run my hand against her rump in slow circles. By this alone I feel her body tense and shiver and she made no move to get away, showing how much she wanted this.
No. this was important.
And with that, I gave her one strike, making her yelp at the unexpected impact as her body tensed on my lap. Three may not seem like a lot, even to some with my erotic and sexual nature, but I remind myself every day she is a Midgardian, a bit more delicate.
‘’you’ve also indulged in alcohol- Asgard’s alcohol where I know I’ve told you countless times it how different the effects are compared to your Midgardian piss water; and we both know how you get when you are drunk, increasing your endangerment.’’ STRIKE.
She yelped again, followed by a shiver as I feel her delicate fingers grip my pants ‘’I’m sorry Loki-‘’
‘’you’ve also had interactions with my brother and gods knows who else when you know how I feel about you interacting with any of the male species.’’ STRIKE!
That one was a bit of a personal one and we’ve talked about my.. over protectiveness before, but those idiots should have stopped her if she was asking how to get here!.. but it’s not on her for that one.. but she still asked..
Her panting drew my attention back to reality as I glance down at her, seeing how she had goosebumps with a small drunken-smile on her lips. Cheeky minx, even when a point is trying to come across, she also somehow manages to pick pleasure out of it.. though I suppose bringing her along from now on would keep her away from other males and my eye on her would keep her safe, rest assured for my sanity..
STRIKE
‘’ow! What was that for??’’ she questioned as I use a bit of my Jotun temperature through my hand to help ease the sting as I give her a smirk.
‘’just for my own pleasure darling, as I see you’ve chosen to do the same. However, I do hope you have been listening throughout all of this.’’ I test and just as I see her lip’s part to utter a word, perhaps some snarky comment to test me or even a flirtatious one, I cut her short by shoving two digits into her cunt.
‘’norns Y/N you’re holding on so tight..’’ I breath out, barely above a whisper as her cunt clenches around my slow, pumping fingers, seeing just how much she had enjoyed her punishment.
‘’please..’’ she breaths, her back arching as her grip tightens on my leg as I feel her orgasm drawing close.
Now I knew for sure her begging was to let her cum, and I couldn’t help but smile at her although she couldn’t see it. she may bring something out in me I may not need- stress, worry, anxiety, obsessiveness, over protectiveness- but she truly has made me a new man.. a new god. For her.
I quicken my pumping, my eyes fluttering with my heading falling back at the mere touch of her, her flutter, her tightness and she says it before I can even make her.
‘’gods please Loki let me cum! I beg of you my king!’’
That did it.
‘’cum for me darling’’
My panting quickened just as much as hers as my fingers sped up, my other hand gripping her flesh and kept her in place as she squirmed with her orgasm beginning to tip over. With one final strike on her rump while I shove one more digit in, she lets out the beautiful sound of her moans while I curl my fingers and my thumb meeting her clit.
She shakes and flutters, her pussy drenching my hand as I made sure she wouldn’t fall right off my lap as I help her ride it out, all the while my eyes drinking in her beautiful form that cums just for me.. that loves only me and.. would cross the realms despite my warnings just to be with me..
I carefully turn her over on my lap as she pants, her glassy eyes and tired smile looking up at me where she musters up the strength to sit up and press her soft, luscious lips to mine. Gods this woman was mine..
I kiss her with love, with my heart and everything I could give as she cuddles close, burying her face in the crook of my neck as I drink in her scent I loved so much. I would never tell her this to make this lesson useless but I am glad she is here, and I’ll tell her we are to remain a few days here like I promised her later. Right now, I will just hold her, feel her, smell her,.. have her.
I feel her eventually grow restless and- dare I say, horny as she begins cuddling closer and pressing her lips to my neck and jawline. This brings out a smile as I glance down at her eyes that held more mischief than my own in that moment.
‘’Loki..’’ she begins with a gentle voice as I begin to creep my hand back down to her beautiful sex.
‘’yes darling?..’’ I whisper, slowly moving her onto the bed on her back without so much as breaking eye contact, my body barely leaving an inch away from hers as I position myself on top, already my magic working itself on riding of the clothes that stayed between us.
‘’you taught me a lesson when I was intoxicated..’’ she begins, teasing in her voice but a failed attempt to try to act serious as her hands run up to rest at my shoulders. ‘’but I’m sober now.. I need some reminding..’’
Oh you little minx..
She never fails to make me smirk, but right now she brought out the all to familiar smirk on my lips as I tower above her. ‘’as you wish darling.. do try to stay focused this time..’’ I tease and in one swift motion, flipped her over.
•Thank you friends for reading my first one shot in HIS POV ♥ rusty and time will improve Lol but i appreciate all the support ♥ cool we share the same taste in men- or.. gods ;)
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weirdo09 · 11 months
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estas bien, mami?(gn)
a miles g/prowler! miles x reader
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requested by anonymous
warnings:
teasing to the point of short term periods of not eating
slight eating disorder
possibly sensitive topics
tooth rotting fluff
annoying brothers
any of these seems uninteresting to you, don’t read.
you know how your younger brother can say stupid shit at times but you really didn’t think it affected you until that day. every now and then, you’d get little comments from your brother like “oh, she’s eatin’ again? fattie.” or “why do you eat up all the food?” it didn’t really effect you, all it did was annoy you but as it persisted, the more you started to wonder if he was actually right.
the first time he ever said anything was at a cookout with your extended family in georgia. you were on your second plate of food when you heard him and your boy cousins snicker bout how much you were eating. “look, watch out! y/n’s gonna leave us hungry with the way she’s eatin’!” they said, you just rolled your eyes and went to sit with your other cousins. it was nothing but a harmless joke at the time.
the second time was when you and him were at the dinner table. “you sure you wanna eat all that? i mean, you look pretty big already.” he whispered past you, getting his fill on mac n cheese and chicken. you huffed and put up the finger, your momma scolded you and sent you upstairs to finish your dinner. “estúpido.” you said under your breathe, that you learned from miles. (y’all aren’t dating officially yet) that night, you didn’t eat as much as you normally did but it wasn’t like anyone would notice, right?
the third time was when you two were over a friend’s house, your momma forced you to bring your brother over for ‘quality time’ or some shit. as you left downstairs to eat, he popped up, snickering with your friend’s brother. “look at the hippo!” they squealed, unfortunately your friend and her mom barely heard so your mood was officially ruined for the rest of the night. you eat a moderate size amount of food and you would soon suffer the consequences for your stomach growled most of the time there.
the fourth and final time before the ‘day’, was the day after getting back from your friend’s house. you didn’t even bother getting breakfast not like your family cared, apparently. you went down for lunch and got a apple while your brother was staring at you.
“all for today, hippo?” he asked, you nodded and ran up the stairs. you walked over to the bathroom, you decided to weigh yourself just out of curiosity. surprisingly, you lost 20-25 pounds in the last week. the last time you weighted yourself, you were 199 lbs. you thought about going lower, maybe then he would stop picking on you. so you decided you go down to 160, losing 39 pounds was easy.
as the weeks passed, you were getting slimmer and slimmer. you smiled at the console of getting skinny, you weren’t an ideal type for boys. maybe then they’d start to notice you. your mom also made quick remarks about your unknown weight loss and about how she was so proud that you stopped eating as much. you weighted yourself and saw that you slimmed down to 146.
‘yes!’ you thought, you were finally perfect. or should you go lower? ‘do it, y/n.. you know you want to..’ a voice said creepily, you shivered. you got off the scale and made way to your room. that was a strange thought but you managed to look past it. you thought about it for hours, it was slowly eating away at you. 1-2 weeks later, you were down 130. you felt tired but happy.
after that, you were getting more and more exhausted. simple tasks began to take a toll on you. one day, ‘the day’, you went on the scale and passed out. you woke up, laying on the bathroom floor. you tried to get up but you were too tired. then you thought about calling miles, ‘he wouldn’t want to see you… not when you look so ugly, so disgusting… you should be ashamed..’ the voice said again.
going against it, you rang up miles. “què pasa, mami?” he asked, you sighed deeply. “nothin, could y-y-you come over? i wanna see you.” you said, gasping for air. “alrigh’, ma, hang on tight.” he said, hanging up. you passed out again.
“hey, mrs. [last name], you do know where y/n is?” miles asked, the lady shook her head. “maybe try in her room?” she suggested, he thanked her. he walked up the stairs and made way to your bedroom before he saw the bathroom door open with you lying on the floor. miles stared in concern and walked towards you. “mami? puedes oírme?” miles asked, shaking your body for a response. “nnghhh…” you groaned, “stop shaking me!” you said in annoyance, miles pulled you into a hug.
“ma, estás viva!” miles exclaimed, holding you close and smiling down at you. “yeah? i’m fine, miles.” you said, staying in his hold a little longer before attempting to get up. you fell before miles caught you. “estas bien, mami?” miles asked, worried. you looked down at your body and began to tear up, “no, miles, no, i’m not ok..” you whispered, miles picked you bridal style and walked downstairs.
gladly, there was no one there to stop him from taking you to his house because best believe he would fight if he had to. you hid in his chest most of the way there. once you got there, miles made way to his room and closed the door with his foot. he placed you down on his bed.
“mind tellin me why i found you on the floor passed out?” he asked, staring into your eyes. “i just tryna ‘ose a few pounds, ‘s all..” you mumbled, miles frowned. “mila, mi vida,” he began to say, getting down on his knees to hold your hands. “eres tan hermosa, mi niña bonita.” he finished, kissing up your arms to your lips. it was short and sweet.
you started to tear up again, miles frowned deeply. “ah, mami, no lloles, pol favol, odio verte molesto…” he said, rocking you in his arms. the two of you ended up cuddling, miles hummed a song softly to you while tracing your face. you lied against him, content. “who said that you needed to lose weight?” miles asked, his demeanor changing slightly though he still traced your face with his finger.
“uhm, no one-.” you began to say when miles shot you a “tell me the truth or i’ll fight a random nigga” look. you sighed, “my brother..” you spat out, miles stopped tracing your face to look at you properly. “and my mom, a bit.” you confessed, miles’ usual warm hazel eyes turned cold. “you’re with me for a few days, mami, ok?” he said, though it sounded more of a command. you nodded, rio’s cooking was amazing. “good..” miles whispered, kissing your cheek. you cheesed softly. “estás a salvo conmigo, niña..” he whispered in your ear, him speaking spanish always made you fall head over heels.
translations-
què pasa, mami? - what’s up, mommy?
mami? puedes oírme? - mommy? can you hear me?
ma, estás vivas! - ma, you’re alive!
estás bien, mami? - are you ok, mommy?
mira, mi vida - look, my life
eres tan hermosa, mi niña bonita - you are so beautiful, my pretty girl
ah, mami, no llores, por favor, odio verte molesto.. - ah, mommy, please don’t cry, i hate to see you upset..
estás a salvo conmigo, niña.. - you’re safe with me, baby girl
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IOTA Reviews: Derision
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Well, here we are. This is the episode you've all been waiting for me to cover. The one people claim is the cream of the crop when it comes to badness, not just for the insane amount of retcons and cases of character assassination, but for how it retroactively makes one of the most criticized parts of the entire show worse by comparison. If you've seen the episode, you know what I'm talking about.
Let's get into the fourteenth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Derision
We start off with Marinette waking up for the day before getting a call from Adrien, who gives one of the clunkiest pieces of exposition I've ever heard on this show, and that's saying something.
Adrien: I was just going to tell you how excited I am that we're meeting at the swimming pool later, and to wake you up just in case you were still sleeping.
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Just as she hangs up, Marinette's hands start to tremble, having visions of a locker, hinting at some old memories resurfacing. Just to get this out of the way, but one thing I want to give this episode props for is the way these panic attacks are portrayed. The colors change, the environments warp around, and it gives off a very uneasy feeling. It kind of reminds me of this one episode of The Twilight Zone, “Little Girl Lost”, which used similar visuals to depict the otherworldly atmosphere of another dimension.
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Marinette meets up with Adrien at the local pool, and has another panic attack. Kim and Ondine seem to notice this.
Kim: Woah, Adrien. That must've been some prank you pulled to make Marinette freak out like that. What did you do to her?
Ondine: It's not funny, Kim! Can't you see Marinette's not okay?
Kim: Oh, come on. She always reacts like that when someone pranks her.
Kim then proceeds to tell Adrien and Ondine (and by extension, the audience) about what he means. I'm going to talk a lot about this, so to make things easier for all of us, I'll give you the short version so you have an idea of what happened.
About a year before the events of “Origins”, we see Chloe was bullying Marinette even more than she did before then, constantly pulling sadistic pranks Megan from Drake & Josh would find to be overkill, while making her late to class. To make things worse, none of her teachers believed her and took Chloe's side all the time, giving her detention on the weekends. Mylene, Rose, and Juleka try to help Marinette, but apparently, Chloe orders them to not talk with her before saying that “she'll be there to make Marinette's life a nightmare”.
The only person with the common sense to help out Marinette is Socqueline, that girl from “Jubiliation”. Socqueline learns that Marinette has a crush on Kim, who is even more of a jerk than he was during the first half of Season 1, and when Marinette thinks about asking him out to the swimming pool after school, Socqueline advises Marinette to be careful. Sabrina tips off Chloe to Marinette's plan, so Chloe goes to give Kim advice to pull a prank on Marinette. At the pool, just as Marinette confesses her feelings to Kim, Kim gives her a box full of spiders, causing her to panic and fall backwards into the pool. Chloe films the thing with the intent to make it go viral, but Socqueline stops her plan before she can upload it. Kim doesn't seem to see what he did was wrong, seeing it as a harmless joke as Socqueline tells him to piss off.
It's here that Marinette determines that if she ever has feelings for a boy ever again, she'll need to be super prepared, explaining how much she knows about Adrien and his schedule in later episodes. Chloe then gets Socqueline expelled from school just a few weeks before the end of the school year. Marinette blames herself for what happened, but Socqueline tells her that sometimes, no matter how dire the odds seem, she needs to muster up the courage to fight the good fight.
Oh, and Marinette was almost akumatized by Monarch again, but it's really just an excuse to keep her away while Kim tells the story.
So... let's talk about this flashback. Clocking in at about ten minutes, almost half of the episode's runtime, this is easily the part everyone (myself included) seems to have problems with, for all kinds of reasons. Let's break down each and everything wrong with this flashback.
#1: The Portrayal of Chloe
Surprisingly, this is the least of my problems. Compared to Kim (who I'll get to later), Chloe is mostly in character with how she's usually portrayed by this point in the series. She's egotistical, she orders Sabrina around, she hates Marinette, and throws her father's name around over and over again like it's a boomerang. My feelings on the wasted opportunities with her character aside, this does make sense seeing how this takes place before Season 1.
But there's the problem. This takes place before Season 1, and Chloe does things she never did in Season 1, or any of the other seasons for that matter. She clearly has the teachers and principal doing what she wants, she can boss the other students around (which I'll also get to later), she pulls sadistic practical jokes on Marinette, and even uses her dad's name to get Socqueline expelled. In the show, she doesn't really do any of this. Sure, she can occasionally use her dad's influence to get what she wants (Lady Wifi, Rogercop, Frightningale, Determination), but it was never to this extent. While she also tried to act like she was better than the rest of her peers, barring Sabrina, nobody ever listened to her or took her seriously. Chloe also tended to focus on bullying Marinette, but she didn't do these kinds of practical jokes. Usually, it was either sabotage (Mr. Pigeon, Despair Bear, Gabriel Agreste) or just general name calling, and she picked on other students too (Dark Cupid, Reflekta, Antibug, Sole Crusher, Penalteam, Deflagration).
The point I'm trying to make is why the hell did Chloe stop acting this way? What caused her to stop being as bad as she is here? I get the whole point of this episode is to show how terrible Chloe is, but you're showing off all her bad moments in a flashback and never considering the other things she's done that would be just as effective. Wasn't the main idea behind Chloe's “damnation arc” that she started to change, but went back on her ways and became worse than before? If that's the case, I have to reiterate, why was she even worse in this flashback?
I also have an issue with making the cause of all of Marinette's trauma because of this prank by Chloe. Yes, the prank was terrible, and trust me this isn't me once again going “GRR! CHLOE STAN ANGRY BECAUSE RICH GIRL IS EVIL IN FLASHBACK!”. It's more along the lines of “Really? We're really doing this?”. While I'm glad that after Chloe's betrayal at the end of Season 3, the show is finally considering the idea of making her more than just comic relief as a villain, it feels like a case of too little, too late.
After so many years of making Chloe out to be harmless unless she screams her daddy's name, now you're treating her like a serious threat who traumatized Marinette for life? Chloe is the cause of Marinette's trauma? This is like if the person who killed Bruce Wayne's parents turned out to be a joke character like Egghead or Crazy Quilt. Just because a serious villain does something important to the story, it doesn't automatically make their prior unfunny antics go away.
But my main gripe with the portrayal of Chloe here is that this flashback fails to do something that still hasn't been done in almost five seasons and eight years: Explain just why Chloe hates Marinette so much. Chloe is unusually cruel here, and doesn't even have a reason to torture Marinette like this. Usually, Marinette gets in the way of what she wants, but here? Marinette doesn't do anything to warrant this level of dedication. You would think for a flashback sequence focusing on her and Marinette's history, they would actually explain why Chloe likes to single out Marinette, but they don't. The writers would rather take time out of the episode to remind the audience of why Chloe is the way she is, and why it isn't acceptable, than clarify what Chloe's deal with Marinette is.
Rose: She’s this way because her mother left her when she was young.
Mylene: So did mine, and you don't see me having fun bullying Marinette.
Gee, I wonder if Astruc himself had a part in writing that exchange or not.
If you're willing to acknowledge previous episodes while also discussing how poorly Chloe treats Marinette, it would help if you finally did something to inform the audience about why Chloe likes to torture Marinette in the first place. Did Marinette show Chloe up at a fashion show? Did Marinette impress Chloe's dad one time? Did Marinette just spill coffee on Chloe's shoes? I will take literally anything, no matter how stupid the explanation is, over getting nothing after eight years.
It's also pretty rich that that scene was trying to say that what happened to Chloe doesn't justify her actions when not only do we never get a scene like that pointing out how creepy Marinette obsesing over Adrien was, but later in the episode, Marinette specifically pins all the blame on Chloe in one line.
Marinette: Adrien! I know what's wrong with me! It's not my fault, and it's not your fault, either! It's all Chloe's fault!
So remember kids, just because bad things happen to you, it doesn't excuse your unflattering actions... except when it does, and in that case, it's all the fault of the person who wronged you in the first place.
#2: The Portrayal of Kim
I'll admit, I'm not really the biggest fan of Kim as a character. I don't hate him, but it feels like after Season 2, he just became that guy who really loves to swim, where even characters like Max, Marc, and Nathaniel had more depth to them. This episode however? Yeah, I couldn't stand Kim here.
Just like with Chloe, Kim is sort of in character as the same eccentric dude who has a habit of being insensitive and accidentally upsetting people (Animan, Syren), and I need to emphasize the “sort of”. Just like Chloe, this goes against his characterization in Season 1, where he was shown to be a bully like Chloe was (Lady Wifi, Timetagger, Origins) before later episodes made him a nicer person. However, unlike Chloe, the show sort of tries to retcon Kim's rude behavior to be more in line with his Season 5 self by portraying him as more of a bully who simply isn't aware of how harmful his jokes are, but it doesn't work because of how cruel he seems, and he doesn't have the excuse of knowing how terrible he is like Chloe does.
There's also how easily he goes along with Chloe's prank when she literally insults him and Marinette to his face.
Chloe: I heard Marinette asked you to go with her to the swimming pool.
Kim: Yeah, we’re going swimming together. Cool! 'Cause I love to swim!
Chloe: That’s not why she asked you, dummy!
Kim: It's not? Then, what are we going to do? Chloe: She wants to declare her feelings for you! Kim: For me? But why?
Chloe: Probably because she's utterly ridiculous, and so are you, which makes you two perfect for each other!
Kim: Oh? You think so?
There's not being aware of how insensitive of how you are to others, and then there's not being able to comprehend basic insults. Chloe doesn't even try to give Kim a backhanded compliment or secretly insult him (“You really like swimming, don't you? Good thing you can swim better than you do in class.”). She just calls him a dummy, and Kim still falls for her trick. If you want to have Kim fall for Chloe's plan, don't make her so obviously cruel. For God's sake, you're making the class in the Lila episodes look smart by comparison.
And even after retelling the story, Kim still thinks Chloe highly, not only saying how pretty she is right in front of his girlfriend, but he still thinks the joke was the funniest thing ever. After five seasons, Kim of all people should know about how mean Chloe is, given he was literally kidnapped and brainwashed into serving her while she sided with Hawkmoth (Miracle Queen).
The worst part is that Kim has nothing to do with this story at all. You could literally replace him with any other guy, even a nameless background character with no lines, and nothing would change. Hell, I'd argue it'd be even better as having Marinette be embarrassed in front of some rando would highlight the impact it had on her self-esteem when she tries to go after someone of a higher social class. It would also better justify the spider prank if someone else pulled it because “Darkblade” established that Kim was afraid of spiders.
And if you think I'm talking about Kim after this part, believe me, there's more to this schmuck than meets the eye.
#3: The Way Everyone Just... Lets This All Happen
Look, I get what the episode is trying to go for, narratively, and realistically. Sometimes, teachers and other authority figures just don't do their jobs when someone gets bullied. Hell, I was bullied for years by someone who liked to take advantage of my anger issues, and it wasn't until my last year of middle school that the faculty finally decided to do something about it. I also get that this entire flashback wouldn't happen if the teachers realized how cruel Chloe was and got her expelled. What I don't get is how the flashback portrays anyone who was there as unwilling to do anything to help.
First off, Marinette claims that the reason none of the teachers believed her was because they're all too afraid to stand up to Chloe, since she can call her dad and cost them their jobs, but that's far from the truth. The only time we see anyone actually being afraid of Chloe was when Mr. Damocles went back on refusing to expel Socqueline before Chloe threatened to call her dad and get him fired. Other than that, while we only see Ms. Mendeleiev and Mr. Damocles in this flashback, neither of them really show any signs of being afraid of Chloe. They just go along with what she says, and they don't even try to take Marinette's side. Just like Kim, this would be more understandable if these were different characters who were never shown to be this cruel to Marinette in earlier episodes.
Second, while I can sort of buy the teachers not caring about Marinette, the fact that her classmates don't do anything is another story. We saw Mylene, Rose, and Juleka trying to help Marinette, but right after they talk to her, Chloe just orders them to go away, and it's never explained why. Marinette said the teachers were afraid of Chloe, but does that mean the students are too? Again, later episodes would establish nobody takes Chloe seriously as a bully, so this part of the flashback makes no sense. What changed to make them stop being afraid of Chloe anyway? Once again, if these were a bunch of nameless characters who were more apathetic to Marinette's situation, that would make sense, retroactively showing how much Marinette's friends care for her. Instead, it's like that scene in RWBY where the main characters watch a student being bullied by a racist classmate, and all they do is say “Wow, racism really sucks, huh? Anyway, not our problem.”
Third, you're telling me that Marinette came up with multiple excuses not to go to school even with a few weeks left in the year, and Marinette's parents didn't see anything weird about it? They didn't think that something must be making Marinette want to do anything but go to school? I don't think they were even informed about the situation at school, unless you want to be generous and say they knew Marinette got detention. You can't even make the excuse that it would work if these were different characters, but these are Marinette's parents. You know, the same characters the show portrays as loving and affectionate to their daughter? You're telling me they didn't even think to look into the situation, much less talk to Marinette about school?
The problem with all the other characters in this flashback is in order to make what happens possible, they have to be as apathetic as possible. There's being unaware of a situation or being too afraid to stand up (which is unfortunately something that happens when people bullied sometimes), and then there's just not caring about the bully victim at all. It's ironic how even though a big part of the flashback was to show how awful Chloe was, it unintentionally make everyone else in Marinette's life seem just as cruel to let her suffer like that.
But I know what you're thinking. “What about Socqueline? She was there to help Marinette, so why didn't you mention her?” Well...
#4: Where the Hell Has Socqueline Been All This Time?
Like I mentioned in my “Jubilation” review, Socqueline is yet another unnecessary addition to the already overcrowded cast of characters in this show, and it seemed like this episode was meant to justify her inclusion, but it only raised more questions.
Just to remind you, this flashback establishes that Marinette was constantly bullied by Chloe until a nice girl in glasses stood up for her, and inspired Marinette to be more confident.
SOUND FAMILIAR?
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Yeah, this flashback is pretty much the same as Marinette's arc in “Origins” was, only with Socqueline in Alya's place. We get it, writers, Season 1 was good. Constantly repeating stuff like what happened in “Mr. Pigeon 72” isn't going to win you any favors.
This really highlights how pointless of a character Socqueline is, as despite supposedly being a really important person in Marinette's life, Marinette herself never thought to tell anyone about her, and judging from how Marinette described her to Tikki in “Jubilation”, I don't think she even stayed in contact with Socqueline after she was expelled. It's not like left Paris afterwards. All we know is that she went to another school and got a job at a local arts and crafts store, so why did Marinette just stop talking with her? Even with Felix and Zoe, they had the excuse of being in different countries, but you can't say that with Socqueline.
Also, this was something I just realized, but if Mr. Damocles got her expelled, why the hell did Socqueline treat him like he was any other customer at her job, much less compliment him as a principal?
#5: The Handling of Trauma in General, and How This Impacts Marinette as a Character
Like pretty much every other serious issue it tries to tackle, Miraculous Ladybug has always had a poor understanding of mental health. When it comes to portraying characters who struggle with some form of grief of trauma, like Adrien, Felix, Chloe, Zoe, and even Marinette, the responses usually amount to some variation of “Grow a pair and get over it, you big baby!”.
With Felix, Chloe, and Marinette, even if their actions are partially motivated as a response to either losing a loved one, trying to emulate their neglectful parent, or as a defense mechanism to avoid repeating an already traumatic experience, they're all proven to be in the wrong, and it's not to teach a lesson about alternative coping mechanisms or support systems. The show just says that they're automatically wrong for what they do, what causes them to act the way they do is never acknowledged, and instead, we're supposed to just act like they're being jerks for no reason. Compare this to Adrien and Zoe, who both had rough lives losing their mother at a young age or living with an abusive mother respectively, and rather than go into detail how it affected them or how they managed to become decent human beings in spite of it, the show just says that they're nice people, so people like Felix, Chloe, and Marinette have no reason to be mean to others.
This is honestly why I feel like this episode's depiction of mental health and dealing with trauma falls flat. In case you didn't know, I asked my followers who had to deal with some form of trauma to share their experiences and how it compared to what Marinette went through in the episode. For the most part, the common consensus seems to be that while the symptoms of Marinette's trauma and her reactions to it are very believable, a lot of it is contradicted by previous episodes, and it seems like it was only there to do a story about dealing with trauma.
So many episodes across Seasons 1 through 4 show Marinette dealing with Kim and Chloe without really any issue, and she showed no problem with starting relationships with Luka and Cat Noir, to say nothing about Nathaniel's brief crush on her in “The Evillustrator”. If Marinette was so traumatized by this prank, why did she want to go swimming in episodes like “Gorizilla” and “Mr. Pigeon 72”? Why did she bother to help Kim confess to Chloe in “Dark Cupid”? Why did she team up with Chloe to sabotage Kagami in “Animaestro”? Why did she suggest Chloe could change for the better throughout Seasons 2 and 3? Why did she continue to let Chloe and Kim use the Bee and Monkey Miraculous respectively, even after they got them from outside sources? This flashback is desperately trying to tie previous events of the series together together, but it only works if you ignore all the times Marinette has interacted with Kim and Chloe without having a panic attack.
Then there's how the flashback tries to connect this to Marinette memorizing all of Adrien's schedule to make sure he won't hurt her, an obvious attempt to rebuff one of the biggest criticisms of her as a character. Here's why it doesn't work.
First off, the setup doesn't work because while Marinette vows to do a better job getting to know the next person she falls in love with and how, in her words mind you, “He isn't friends with Chloe”. Putting aside the kindness he's shown her in “Origins”, she kind of failed to really consider her choice to pursue him if he stayed friends with Chloe if we're going to believe Chloe traumatized Marinette so much.
It also doesn't really explain the more predatory actions Marinette has taken whenever another girl tries to get close to Adrien (The Bubbler, Volpina, Animaestro, Oni-Chan, Heart Hunter), or how she tries to rig up situations to get closer to him (The Gamer, Gigantitan, Backwarder, Party Crasher, Felix, Psycomedian, Glaciator 2, Simpleman). And that's not even getting into how obsessive she is with him in other areas, like repeatedly playing a commercial he was in (Gorizilla), making a bunch of presents for him in advance (Christmaster), trying to kiss a wax statue of him (The Puppeteer 2), sniffing his pillow (Cat Blanc), or all the other times she's creepily obsessed over him.
But of course, you've probably noticed that I've forgotten to mention one key thing about what this flashback means: You know how Marinette tends to act nervously and stumbles a lot around Adrien when she isn't meticulously documenting his schedule? Yeah, they were essentially panic attacks brought on by her PTSD, and the episode tries to act like Kim did to her wasn't funny afterwards. Here's the problem with this.
YOU MADE MARINETTE'S TRAUMA YOUR PRIMARY SOURCE OF COMEDY FOR THE PAST FIVE FUCKING SEASONS!
You do NOT have the right to act like what happened to Marinette was bad when you were constantly playing her anxiety up for laughs for almost EIGHT YEARS at this point!
In addition to all the other examples I mentioned, we had episodes like “Psycomedian”, which confirmed that the same behavior that this episode is trying to say is connected to her trauma was hilarious to Adrien, as well as “Backwarder”, which thrived on playing up Marinette's anxiety towards Adrien and was said to be one of the funniest episodes of the show to work on by Astruc himself.
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THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES
#6: Why This Flashback Is Ultimately Pointless
But above all, the biggest problem I have with this flashback is because of how pointless it is. It's trying to better go into detail about why Marinette acts the way she does around Adrien, but did we really need to do that?
This flashback doesn't really reveal anything that we didn't know already. We know Marinette was bullied by Chloe, we know she was a lot more meek and needed others to stand up for her, and we definitely know that we're not supposed to like Chloe. Adding to my earlier point, if we actually got more insight into the origin of Chloe's obsession with Marinette, that would have at least made this flashback important to watch, but once again, despite being a flashback episode, we learn nothing about the characters that we don't already know.
But this flashback is also meant to explain why Marinette is so hesitant to embrace her new relationship with Adrien when we already got a reason for that last season. The first half of the season has made a big deal about how much her feelings for Adrien cost her the Miraculous, so why not focus on that? This flashback just feels like it's here to give more Marinette angst instead of focusing on the things they've already established. And that's not even getting into what she saw during “Cat Blanc”.
Why couldn't we just have a story about Marinette's own insecurities causing her to doubt she can make her relationship with Adrien work, seeing how poorly things ended with Luka? Have her worry that something could go wrong as a result of her need to overcompensate, or worry that Adrien could betray her. That way, you could have Adrien supporting Marinette in a way that reflects their partnership as Cat Noir and Ladybug respectively.
But no. Instead we have this flashback that's taken me about ten pages to fully dissect. And the worst part is that I still have the rest of the episode to talk about. God help me...
So after Adrien and Ondine explain how this prank could have done a lot of damage to Marinette's psyche, Kim decides to find Marinette, and apologize for being so—Ah, I'm just messing with you guys. After all, that would actually make Kim likable. So what does he say instead?
Kim: Come on! Loosen up, you guys! It's like you can't even speak your mind these days.
Ondine: That doesn't give you permission to hurt other people!
Kim: Whatever! I'm the way I am and I'm fine that way! It's not my fault you guys have no sense of humor!
Yep, rather than having Kim realize the error of his ways and maybe be akumatized out of guilt, Kim just whines about how everyone else is just a humorless pansy these days. The writers pretty much made Kim's motivation boil down to “It's just a prank, bro!”. Even Monarch seems to go along with this, as he refers to Kim as “A free spirit feeling unjustly rejected”, when this was right after he called Chloe the prettiest girl in front of his own girlfriend's face. So Monarch sends his Akuma to Kim's goggles, akumatizing him into Dark Humor. Yes, that's really the name they're going with.
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Dark Humor is a pretty forgettable recolor of Dark Cupid. Other than inverting the red and black color scheme and giving him a targeting scope on his right eye, there's not much else to say other than the incredibly on the nose name they gave him. His powers are sort of like Dark Cupid's, only now, instead of turning people heartless, they now share his soulless brand of “humor”. At least, I think it is. His Alliance power is the Monkey Miraculous's Uproar, but it's not really clarified if he's only using Uproar arrows or not, judging from the use of the rubber ducky that we've seen King Monkey use before.
Marinette and Adrien transform into Ladybug and Cat Noir respectively, but once they meet up, we get the most controversial part of the episode that isn't connected to the flashback scene: Cat Noir gives Dark Humor the beatdown of his life and is about to Cataclysm him, for pulling a bad prank on Marinette a year ago. Yeah, a lot of people have pointed out that Adrien felt a lot of remorse for Cataclysming Monarch earlier in this season, yet here, Cat Noir looks like someone told him that Kim just shot the Pope. For God's sake, writers, you're five seasons in! How hard is it to determine whether or not you want your hero to be okay with killing people or not?
And of course, this bites him in the ass, as Dark Humor stabs Cat Noir with an arrow, not only changing his Cataclysm into something that creates a bunch of balls from his hand, but also making him just as insane as the rest of Dark Humor's victims. You know, I'm this close to starting a “Remember Season 1” counter, because this is just glorified fanservice.
Ladybug tries to summon her Lucky Charm, but is stopped by Dark Humor, so Ladybug transforms back into Marinette, transforms into Ladybug again, and summons her Lucky Charm for real this time, getting... a toilet. Of course, the only way to combat Dark Humor's bad jokes is by using even worse jokes! Genius! Ladybug places the toilet over Dark Humor's head and breaks it along with the goggles, freeing the Akuma.
Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, gives Kim a useless Magical Charm, and Cat Noir apologizes for murdering Kim by saying his emotions got the better of him, which is like saying OJ Simpson and his wife had a minor disagreement.
Kim apologizes to Marinette for traumatizing her, and I guess that's enough for Ondine to forgive him for saying another girl is prettier than her.
After Marinette sort of explains what happened to Adrien, he goes over to tell Chloe to apologize, and we get... this scene.
Adrien: I know about everything that you did to Marinette last year, Chloe. You're going to go and apologize to her and prove to everyone that you can change. I'm sure she'll forgive you.
Chloe: (laughs) Forgive me? What do I care about her forgiveness? I couldn't care less about Dupain-Cheng's feelings! She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment. Why bother having power if you can’t use it against those who don’t have any? You’re the one who’s getting things wrong, with your baker girl! You’re a prince! You belong with me, the princess! You’re in this world to shine! To make fun of all the losers who are only good enough to be used as doormats!
Adrien: You're nothing like a princess, Chloe. I supported you. I gave you multiple chances to become a better person. Everyone reached out to you, including Ladybug and Cat Noir when they gave you the Miraculous of the Bee again. But all you ever think about is yourself.
Chloe: And what else IS there to think about? Losers and nobodies? The little bees? The planet?
Adrien: We will never be friends again, Chloe. You and I are done.
Chloe: Traitor.
Okay, first off, “She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment.”? That's the line you're going with? She sounds like a dark lord in an RPG game. How is this the closest thing we ever get to an explanation to why Chloe hates Marinette so much?
Second, ignoring the fact that we already had Chloe end her friendship with Adrien last season (Queen Banana), it's pretty weird that this is the breaking point in their friendship. Adrien doesn't mention all the other times she's bullied people or when she sided with Hawkmoth even when he brought up her time as Queen Bee. He saw her being mean to so many people over five seasons, yet only when he learns Chloe did something to his girlfriend that he decides to finally confront her. If we at least got a line where Adrien acknowledged that he essentially enabled Chloe for so long by thinking she could change, that would have at least sort of worked. Instead, he makes it about how she refused to change herself. Dude, you had the chance to stand up to her for years, and you even did so in one episode before you went back on it (Despair Bear). You have nobody to blame but yourself.
Finally, Chloe is pretty out of character here. She's way too calm about ending her friendship with Adrien compared to what happened in “Despair Bear” and “Queen Banana”. You'd think if the writers wanted this to be a big moment of catharsis for the audience, Chloe would at least beg Adrien to stay a little. But no, Chloe brushes it off when it could easily justify her getting worse in later episodes, and even Adrien doesn't even consider how much he thought Chloe's friendship meant to him. Because these writers are dedicated to making sure that any identifiable trait Chloe once had is removed so you have no choice but to hate her.
But hey, at least the episode's over. What did I think of it?
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Yeah, it wasn't very good.
I just... what else do you even want me to say here? I spent about ten pages going over why the flashback sequence doesn't work, I've already ranted about Cat Noir trying to kill someone with his Cataclysm in previous episodes (Hack-San, Jubilation), and I think you all know what my feelings on the portrayal of Chloe and Kim are.
I guess I can answer one question you may have: Is this episode worse than either “Penalteam” or “Queen Banana”? Eh, not really. Let me explain.
The problems with “Queen Banana” and “Penalteam” went beyond the treatment of Chloe with the way the stories were handled, with “Queen Banana” being a cheap jab at critics and TV executives while propping up their new character Zoe, and “Penalteam” being an excuse to have a soccer episode while making Cat Noir look like a buffoon right before the finale. Most of the problems with this episode have more to do with how they affect the way we see previous episodes, and why some scenes that were already unfunny are even less funny now.
With this episode, you can at least tell there was some effort being made to tell a more serious story here that went into what made Marinette tick. Yeah, it and the themes of mental health and trauma were handled about as gracefully as a ballet dancer trying to get a bear trap off their leg, but there's at least an attempt here.
Of course, this episode is still awful. The conflict with Kim not getting how much of a jerk he was after a year was dumb (as was him being even more of a jerk as Dark Humor), the fact that Marinette's trauma seemed to come and go when the plot needed it to really showed off how forced it is, and it only ends with you having more questions about Marinette and Chloe's rivalry rather than answering them.
While I'm still not a fan of this episode, and would still place it in my top five least favorites, I don't think it's the absolute worst. Although it's still the worst one so far this season from a technical standpoint.
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...KIM
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It says a lot when Cat Noir actually tried to murder someone in this episode, yet not only is he not even considered for the award this episode, the person he tried to kill ends up being the bigger idiot. Not only did he easily fall for Chloe's plan when she insulted him to his face, he failed to understand how it affected Marinette for a year, and when he was told about how bad it was, he refused to take responsibility for his actions, blamed it on other people not being able to take a joke, and only gave the smallest apology after he was almost killed for his attitude. It's honestly funny how he somehow comes across as more unlikable than Chloe, the character this episode was made to make you hate even more.
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Note
Can I request a Furina x reader after they were intimate? So, not actually showing what happened, but the aftercare? I'm a sucker for aftercare
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(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette being intimate with their S/O
It's time to do what I do best: Ungodly amounts of fluff.
NSF-W Implications under the cut!
POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT! Nothing explicit or even that spicy is here to be quite honest with you, 99% just fluff but a warning is always good nevertheless. Also gender neutral!
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Furina's usual bravado and confidence goes completely out the window in this situation.
No one has gotten this close to her in centuries, let alone even seen her naked.
The intimacy of having S/O with her, both of them in the same bed and without wearing anything is enough to completely short circuit her brain.
But, this was just a way to express one's love for each other, taking the relationship into the next step.
Furina is nervous, but her S/O was worth being nervous for.
===
Furina's chest slowly rose and fell as her head turned to face S/O. Their eyes were closed as they were catching their breath, their hand intertwined with hers.
She felt their thumb idly rubbing across the back of her hand, making her smile shyly at S/O, leaning onto her side and moving in closer to cuddle.
(Furina) "Are you feeling alright?"
S/O chuckled before turning to face her, both of them mere inches away from their noses meeting.
(S/O) "I think a little more than just 'alright'."
S/O kissed the top of her head, Furina feeling their lips brush against her hair and causing her to giggle.
Furina wrapped her arms around them, prompting S/O to do the same and bringing her closer and letting her head rest on their chest.
The two remained silent, simply enjoying the contact of their bare skin and the intimacy of it all.
Not once did Furina imagine herself to be loved like this by anyone, the experience itself almost caused her mind to blank.
But it was now when S/O held her so tight that she couldn't imagine a life without such love.
(Furina) "S/O, may I ask something of you?"
(S/O) "Of course."
Furina's voice almost became a whisper.
(Furina) "Hug me tighter."
Since her ear was pressed against their chest, she could feel their heartrate quicken from her request, making her own accelerate with them.
S/O said nothing as they complied, Furina feeling their grip around her more than ever, causing her shoulders to relax.
(Furina) "...Thank you."
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Navia is both excited and utterly nervous of getting to be so intimate with her S/O.
On one hand, she was able to show them just how much she loved them!
But she wasn't exactly a pro in this situation. In fact, she had zero experience in bed.
But that wasn't going to stop her!...Hopefully...
===
When Navia finally regained her thoughts, she immediately grabbed S/O and pulled them in closer to her chest, enjoying the warmth of their body.
Hearing S/O's hum of content, she knew that she didn't need to ask if they felt good. Her face began to heat up now that she wasn't lost in the moment, feeling every part their bodies were making contact.
But at the same time, Navia was sure that she wouldn't be able to live without this feeling again. Having the love of her life safe in her arms was something that could never be replaced.
Her expression slightly darkened, thinking about the last time she had felt so happy. Her parents, Melus, Silver...-
Breaking the silence, Navia snapped out of her thoughts when S/o's voice spoke.
(S/O) "Navia? Are you okay?"
Navia's mouth slightly dropped before smiling at their concerned expression. They were absolutely stunning to look at, doubly so when there was nothing left to the imagination, though that last part of her thoughts didn't need to be vocalized.
(Navia) "Oh, don't mind me I'm...just thinking."
(S/O) "What about?"
Navia's expression grew serious for a moment before taking a deep breath, kissing S/O on the lips and giving a softer, more genuine smile.
(Navia) "...How thankful I am for you, S/O."
And seeing their smile was enough to brighten her mood again.
Before her thoughts could spiral on what she had lost, she instead hugged S/O closer to her, thinking about what she could look forward to.
(Navia) "...Stay with me, please. I don't want this moment to end."
She felt their smile grow as they snuggled closer into her chest.
(S/O) "I'm never leaving your side, Navia."
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Lynette's immediate response to the thought of being so intimate with someone: No.
As far as she was aware, everyone except a rare few was out for themselves and not worth the hassle of getting to know.
Until she had met her S/O.
The relationship was rocky at first, she had always closed herself off and opening up to anyone was not natural.
Yet S/O was persistent, wanting to get to know the real her, something that made her heart flutter and gave her a headache.
It wasn't until one night, the two were together during a rainy night that she had moved closer to them.
===
Lynette put her head on S/O's shoulders, the two of them not saying a word as they enjoyed the silence together.
S/O had just assumed that she was spacing out again and was reading a book in their lap to pass the time.
Lynette on the other hand was deep in thought. It wasn't work related or anything outside of her home. It was a matter of the heart.
S/O felt her tail swish against the back of their shoulders, catching their attention.
(S/O) "Lynette?"
No response. Yet her brows were furrowed and her tail swishing was getting slightly faster.
S/O smiled and gently tapped her shoulder, finally catching her attention.
(S/O) "Thinking about something? Your brows are doing that little crease again."
Lynette simply hummed in response, slightly adjusting herself so her arms could wrap around S/O's.
(Lynette) "Yeah."
(S/O) "What about?"
The sound of rain was the only sound for a few moments, as Lynette tried to find a way to put what she was feeling into words.
(Lynette) "Us."
S/O put their book down and gave Lynette her full attention. Those loving eyes staring straight into hers was almost enough to distract her.
(Lynette) "You've...been really patient with me, S/O. More than I deserve, I think."
(S/O) "You deserve the world, Lynette."
Hearing them respond with no hesitation made her ears twitch, as a blush subtly crept onto her cheeks, but one could miss it if they weren't actively looking for it.
(Lynette) "I don't feel like I've given you enough back-"
(S/O) "Of course you have. You letting me be this close and getting to see the real you is more than I could have ever hoped for."
The smile they gave her finally made her confident in her next decision. People were unpredictable, and she always felt safe watching from a distance to observe.
But for this moment, her direct action was needed. Nothing else could show S/O how much she loved them back.
Her tail finally stopped moving as it wrapped around S/O's waist, and her arms wrapped around their neck.
(Lynette) "...Then...you won't mind if I get closer, do you?"
S/O's eyes slightly widened at the implications of her question, but after processing it, they gave her a smile and rested their forehead against hers.
Their arms wrapped around her waist, enjoying the warmth as the rain fell harder against the windows.
(S/O) "Only if you want to, Lynette."
(Lynette) "...I don't think there's anything I want more, right now."
Lynette's lips pressed gently onto S/O's, the two exchanging long and passionate kisses until she gently pushed them back onto the seat.
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goldengleams · 4 months
Text
cut my hair - l. hughes
In which you and Luke come back to each other after you cut your hair.
Warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, angst, college melodrama Word Count: 4.5k words (let's go!!!)
A/N: Super excited for this one! This is inspired by “cut my hair” by Tate McRae and I would encourage you to listen to it while you read! Hope you enjoy and leave me some requests while you’re at it :))
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Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make you sweat
Go out and get messed up, find myself in your bed
Just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget
Just wanna show you whatever she do, I can do it better
"Yo, Moosey, is that Y/N?"
Luke couldn't help but follow your figure from across the bar. He could always find you in a crowd, no matter the amount of people or the size of the room. His hand dropped from the shoulder of the girl standing next to him, his date for the night.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so," Luke said to his teammate Mark standing next to him. He suddenly felt hot, pulling on the collar of his shirt to allow himself to breathe a little easier.
"She looks good, man." Mark wasn't wrong, you did look good. Your head was thrown back as you laughed at something your friend said, looking happier than he had seen you since you fought before winter break.
Luke wanted to slap Mark but he knew it would do no good and he would be lying if he said he didn't agree with his comment. It had only been a few weeks since you had stopped talking, but he felt like it had been years.
You looked different, but it was a good different, he thought. Your hair was short now, right at your shoulders, highlighting your collarbone and your chest in the strapless black dress you wore. You were surrounded by a group of your friends. He recognized them as the ones who had picked you up from the house he shared with his teammates that fated night. He remembered how hard you had cried, unable to look at him after you fought about him leaving for New Jersey and the trust issues that clouded your vision. Luke remembered how he was unable to answer when you asked when the last time you had gone out on a date was. He wished he could've shown you how much he cared but he was too afraid to admit that he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't admit that he was just as afraid as you were. And then, before he knew it, you were storming out and you were on a break.
Luke regretted that moment. He couldn't tell you, because he was too nervous to text first, but he wanted to apologize. If he could have stopped himself from ever pushing you away, he would've never ended up standing with someone he didn't know.
Luke and a few of his teammates had been invited to a sorority formal, which is how he ended up in the back of a more formal bar far away from campus with a date he barely knew. Rutger's girlfriend had begged a few of the guys to go with some of her sorority sisters and Luke and Mark agreed, but he wanted nothing more than to be by your side.
"Dude, you're staring" Mark commented. "Maybe you should go talk to her."
"I don't know if she'd even give me the time of day," Luke said. “I fucked up.”
"You'll never know unless you try, Lukey. Besides, you probably just caught her on a bad day. What did you say to her anyways?
"I told her that she was overbearing and that I was going to leave soon anyways,” Luke said, close to Mark’s ear so his date couldn’t hear him.
“Oh,” Mark stammered. “Yeah, that’s bad, Luke.”
“Thanks,” Luke chuckled humorlessly.
“She’ll hear you out, dude. Just tell her how you really feel. Trust me, girls love honesty!" Mark said, already moving away from Luke to follow his date to the dance floor.
Luke sighed, rolling his eyes at Mark's immaturity. He knew he was so focused on his future that he had lost sight of the present-his college teammates, his classes. Most importantly, he had lost you. Maybe this was his chance to get you back.
I've been playing nice little too long, yeah
Drivin' on the high road hit a dead end,
I'd tell you but we just don't talk,
I've been having selfish thoughts
Your friends were so excited to go out and celebrate the first week of second semester. You could tell some of your girlfriends were crushing hard for some of the guys in the bar, but your mind was elsewhere after spotting a certain someone across the room.
For almost all of break, besides the holidays, you had been trying to figure out how to move on from Luke Hughes. You and Luke had clicked immediately, and even though you had tried to take the relationship slow, it was no use. Within two months, you were dating. Luke was proud to see you cheering for him at games and you became a staple at Thursday movie nights at his shared hockey house. You and Luke fit together like pieces of a puzzle.
Which is exactly why you couldn’t figure out why your boyfriend had started sending short messages and declined your affection starting after Thanksgiving break. Luke constantly claimed he had hockey practice or a team bonding event, but it was all proven to be false when you showed up at his doorstep one night to confront him.
Rumors found Luke Hughes like a moths to a flame. Whether it was his future in the NHL or his relationship status, your Michigan social media gossip pages never missed a beat. That week in the fall, Luke was apparently single and talking to a girl from the sorority the hockey team regularly hung out with. You never thought you were the jealous type, but with Luke’s odd behavior and his lack of communication, you thought the worst.
Even now, as you stood in the bar, you got a chill as you thought about the night you confronted him. Luke had the nerve to sit on his bed as you paced in his room, asking him simple questions that he had trouble answering.
He knew that you cared so much about your relationships with others so he used it against you, saying you were bombarding him with messages and he was sick of it. You couldn’t remember every sentence you spoke, but you could remember the hurt you felt when you realized that Luke just didn’t care about you like you cared for him. He had said it himself, he wouldn’t be around much longer, implying that you should both just move on. You didn’t wait for him to deal the final blow, instead, you called for the breakup and left before he could say anything else.
“Earth to Y/N! You want a drink?” Your friend, Caroline, asked. She waved her hand in front of your face to get your attention.
“Uh, I’m good. I didn't expect him to be here and I'm a little overwhelmed,” you replied. You hadn’t locked eyes with Luke, but you were afraid the moment was coming sooner than later since you struggled to tear your gaze from his tall figure.
“How about a shot then? They’ve got those green ones that are really good, and will make you forget that tall idiot who has been staring at you all night,” Caroline tried again.
I've been working hard while you're six drinks in,
Tossin' in the dark, feel you under my skin,
Once I start I just can't stop,
I've been having selfish thoughts
You were about to decline her offer when you saw who Luke was standing next to. You recognized Rutger and Mark easily, but you had only just got a clear view of Riley Jones, a sorority girl standing next to him. You had forgotten that there was a sorority formal the first week back from break, and of course, you had ended up at the same bar.
“No fucking way.” You muttered under your breath, but Caroline was too attentive.
“What?”
“He’s with Riley. He’s at the stupid sorority formal with that girl who’s in our biology class, C.”
Caroline gasped, always perfectly dramatic in every situation. “It's always the sorority girls, I swear!"
You nodded, finally able to turn your head away from Luke’s direction. Sighing, you pulled out your phone to check the time, only 10:23. You had made a deal with your friends that you couldn’t leave until 11, but that deal seemed much easier when your ex wasn’t factored into the equation.
“He shouldn’t even be here, it’s the middle of the season and he can’t drink, anyways,” you grumbled to your group of friends. They were hoping to have a Luke-free night, especially with the start of the new semester, but you all had forgotten the sorority that would be gracing the bar with their presence that Thursday night. Caroline rubbed your arm, assuring you that you weren’t alone in this situation.
“Well, he's definitely an idiot for losing you, but he doesn't seem too interested in his date," Caroline said. "Don't focus on him, the night is still young! And, not that you needed it, but you seriously just had the glow-up of winter break. Luke's missing out.”
"New year, no more being sad over stupid boys!" You lifted up your nearly empty drink to clink it with your other friends' glasses.
Your other friends chimed in and you laughed, Caroline wasn’t wrong. Despite crying over Luke for a few days, you refused to lay in bed and rot just because he had made you feel small. Instead, you opted to take out your anger at the gym over break, so you knew your dress that night fit you better than ever before. You had also decided to do a hair transformation and cut it quite short, a style your friends at college hadn’t ever seen on you. You knew you looked different and you felt confident.
“Why don’t I get us the shots before we hit the dance floor? On me!” You could feel your layer of liquid courage settle over you. Luke was closer to the bar than you were, so it was almost inevitable that he would see you if you got the drinks.
"You know he's over there, right Y/N? Don't look now, but he's staring at you." Your other friend, Lexi, said to you. Of course you knew. Luke was one of the tallest guys in the bar and he easily towered over the other guys that were hovering close to your friend group. Just as you went to look at him, he redirected his gaze to Riley and laughed at something she said. The nerve of him. You rolled your eyes and stood up a little. If he wanted to play hardball, so could you.
"Yeah, I wanna give him a taste of what he's missing."
“Okay, get it girl!"
You sauntered over to the bar, leaning over just enough so that your chest was on display in the new black strapless dress you had bought. It hugged you just right and showed off your assets quite well. The music was pulsing and the lights were pretty dark, so it was a shock when you felt a hand on your back.
There's no right way to say it,
Want you so bad, I hate it
Good girls, so overrated
So overrated...
Luke watched as you pulled out your phone to check the time. Even from across the room, he could see your bright lockscreen light up your face. The glow illuminated your bright smile and your dimples, and suddenly he wished he was right next to you to see it.
"Hey Luke, want to dance?" Riley's voice caught his attention. She was standing right in front of him, staring up at him with her big brown eyes rather excitedly. He hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Riley just kept on going.
"Mark said you liked to dance, so I thought..." Riley continued to ramble but Luke had already tuned her out. He didn't really care that he was caught in Riley's scheme for the night, he just didn't want it to look like he was actually with her.
"Mark's an idiot," he chuckled. "I don't dance."
Riley rolled her eyes, unimpressed at her date who was standing up against the wall. "Can you at least just put your arm around me again? My ex is like, right across the bar and I need to make him at least a little jealous."
Luke didn't mean to ignore Riley's plea, but he had lost you in the crowd. You weren't standing next to your friends anymore. He felt his heart rate pick up at the thought of losing you again. He scanned the room and finally found you leaning over the bar. If he could get Riley to move over a few steps, he could maneuver his way to the bar counter and maybe-
"Are you looking at Y/N?" Riley asked. It wasn't exactly a secret that you and Luke had broken up. All pictures of him had been removed from your social media and Luke hadn't been playing his best hockey by any means. Luke's trance seemed to end abruptly as he cleared his throat to try to come up with an answer, but it was no use. In the time he had been pondering his plan, some guy had sidled up next to you. Luke recognized him, his name was Chris, he was in your major and lived down the hall from you. He always said hi to the two of you when you passed him on the way to your room and Luke couldn't lie, he was pretty fit, too. He let out a shaky breath.
"Uh, no," Luke fumbled. "I was just thinking about getting another soda up at the bar."
"Luke, I know you've been staring at Y/N over there all night even though I'm your date," Riley hummed, seeming only slightly disappointed. "You should go talk to her. Girls are a little scary, but we just want to be loved. Look, I'm gonna go chat with my ex across the bar and show him a fun time, okay? You got this."
Riley walked away from Luke, leaving him standing there a little dumbfounded. Was it really that easy? Chris seemed to make it look easy, standing too close to you at the bar countertop, making you laugh as you waited for whatever you had ordered.
Luke found himself moving closer to the bar without really having a concrete plan in place. Would you ignore him? His runaway thoughts ended when he heard his name called.
Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make you sweat
Go out and get messed up, find myself in your bed
Just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget
Just wanna show you whatever she do, I can do it better
"Luke! Hey man!" Chris called. In his drunken state, he had practically whipped around and made you fall when he caught sight of Luke. When you realized who Chris was calling for, you immediately shook his hand away and turned back to the bartender who was almost about to get to you to take your drink order.
"Chris, don't," you tried to say as quietly as possible. Luke was getting closer to you to try to say hello but you wanted none of it. You ignored Chris and Luke greeting each other and kept your eyes trained in front of you. You refused to give in.
"I gotta get back to the guys, I'll see you later, Y/N? We can watch that new episode once you get back!" Chris called, giving you a side hug as you said goodbye.
"Hey, Y/N," Luke said. His voice sounded soft and timid and you couldn't help but feel your stomach fill with butterflies. This was the closest you and Luke had been since before Christmas and now it was the middle of January.
"You look beautiful, I love your hair," he tried again, finally standing next to you. You hated how tall he was in the moment, his frame completely isolating you from anyone else, since you were at the end of the bar.
"Thanks," you said. "New year, new haircut is how the saying goes, I think."
Luke laughed nervously, sitting down on the barstool next to you. He had let his hair grow out over break, you noticed. He was turned towards you, trying to get you to talk to him. You felt your face get hot at the thought of him being right there. He was so close, yet the last time you saw him, he pushed you so far away.
"I didn't know you were here," he tried, wanting you to look at him. You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your mouth.
"Sure you weren't staring at me all night? Caroline said she caught you ignoring your date, Hughes."
You held back laughter at the way his eyes widened. Caught. The bartender finally turned your way and you ordered shots for you and your friends, handing him your fake ID and flashing a smile as he handed it back to you quickly. Luke asked for a soda and he went to prepare your orders.
"I didn't know you were seeing Chris."
"I'm not, he just has manners and actually enjoys being in my presence, Luke."
Luke coughed, trying to break up the awkward tension between you two. His mind went back to your first date, where he had taken you ice skating. He remembered how hard you laughed when you fell, needing him to lift you up and hold your hand tightly to stay upright. Even thought you barely knew each other outside of a mutual friend, the conversation flowed easily. You two had never been awkward around each other, even in the early stages of your relationship.
"So," Luke began.
You rolled your eyes and put your hands on your hips, turning square to him. His gaze dipped to your neckline where your chest was accentuated and you almost laughed. While you hadn't dressed for him that night, it was like fate brought him to you just so you could make him weak. Perfect.
"So?"
Couple years back so sensitive, yeah
Movin' like that gets repetitive, yeah
Singin' bout the same old stupid ass things
Sad girl bit got a little boring
"I haven't heard from you in a while, Y/N."
"Well, you weren't interested in texting me anyways so I thought it would be easiest," you taunted him. “Remember when you told me I was too much to deal with?”
"I wanted to apologize for that," Luke sighed. "I wasn't thinking straight and I took it out on you, I'm sorry."
"Glad it only took you two months to realize you were an asshole and lost the best thing you ever had."
Luke was stunned at your bluntness. You stared right at him when you said it, your confidence unwavering. Fake it until you make it right? Your heart was beating fast. You didn't really drink often, but when you did, Luke knew how unfiltered you could be. He always found it amusing, the way your cheeks would flush and how sassy you became. It never failed to make him feel hot all over.
"God, where is that fucking bartender?" You mumbled, quickly looking past Luke to avoid another awkward sentence spilling out of your mouth. You were already two drinks in and wanted to keep feeling good.
"You're right," Luke said, still staring at you. "I know you wouldn't say that if you were totally sober, but I agree. I fucked up and ruined us.”
You could barely focus as the bartender asked you for your card and you fumbled to get it out of your phone wallet. Luke quickly got his card out and handed it to the man instead.
"Luke, don't. You're not even supposed to be in here mid-season," you chided. "And you don't have to pay for me, we're not together."
“Would you ever want us to be together again?” Luke asked quickly.
Luke’s question made you freeze.
“I’m not doing this here, Luke.”
“Just answer the question, Y/N.”
“I never wanted us to be over, Luke. But you made me feel stupid for wanting all of the things you gave me at the very beginning. I wasn’t going to stick around just to get my heart broken.”
You felt lighter now that the truth was out in the open. You’re sure Luke knew it too, by the guilty look he wore on his face. Everyone told you how good you and Luke were good together, but it was the two of you that still couldn’t figure things out.
“What if we get out of here? We can talk about how terrible I was back at my place,” Luke asked. He looked hopeful, almost too content. Three months ago, you would’ve jumped to do anything Luke suggested, but now, with him taking another girl out and his actions, you swiftly shook your head.
“Can’t, the girls and I are staying out for the night. But I hope you have fun with Riley, enjoy your night, Hughes.”
The shots and his soda were set down in front of you, breaking up the moment.
“I hate when you call me that,” Luke grumbled. You smirked knowingly. You always called Luke by a nickname, never his last name.
“Well, I hate when my ex is at the bar with another girl, but here we are,” you fired back.
"Riley went off with some other guy. Her ex, I think," Luke admitted.
"Sounds like fun," you shrugged. You tried not to get your hopes up at his statement. Luke had hurt you in the past.
"We only went together because Rutger set us up, Y/N. I don't even know her."
"Well you looked pretty smitten with her from across the bar, Luke." You said back, not caring that you blew your nonchalant cover. You tried to pick up the small tray of drinks, but stumbled in your haste to steady yourself.
"She's not my type, I thought you of all people would know that, Y/N. She literally just went to go fuck her ex in the bathroom."
"That doesn't make me feel any better Luke, oh my god," you scoffed, a little disgusted that you knew more information about Riley than you needed to know.
"Y/N, wait," he urged, standing up now to tower over you again. Luke's skin was glowing from the heat in the place and he looked at you breathlessly. "Hear me out, please. I know I fucked up, I know that. But I was scared that you'd leave when I play pro hockey and I didn't want to get left behind."
You took in a breath, unable to say anything. Suddenly, it felt like you and Luke were the only ones in the whole room.
“Give me one more chance, please,” Luke said quietly. “I hate that I hurt you.”
No right way to say it,
Want you, so bad I hate it
Good girls, so overrated
So overrated...
As you held the tray, you quickly glanced over to your table, where your friends were staring at you. You were unsure of what to do. You could keep walking towards your friends, forget Luke, and move on with your life. Or, you could do what the new you would do-make him sweat over the mistakes he made, maybe end up in his bed.
“You sure you won’t get sick of me?” You questioned. For the first time that night, Luke could see how sincere you were, the old you that he had loved and lost. He wouldn’t mess up his chance again.
"I could never get sick of you, Y/N. I hated not being able to call or text you and I missed your hugs and the way you laugh when you watch The Office, because you always have it on and you love how sarcastic it is, and how you-" Luke couldn't finish what he was saying, even though you would've enjoyed hearing it, because you had put the tray back down and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your lips crashed against his and you swore you could feel fireworks going off inside your body.
The drinks on the counter were forgotten as his hand traveled to your back, trying to pull you closer to him. He toppled back on his barstool and you stood between his legs, feeling him press up against you. You let out a breathy laugh as you realized how hard he was in his dress pants.
"Jesus, Luke," you whispered in his ear, dropping your head to his shoulder, only a little embarrassed that you just made out with him and your friends were probably watching.
"Don't laugh," he stuttered out. "It's been a long break." You could see how blown his pupils were, pure bliss all over his face as you stood eye to eye.
"I'm not laughing," you said, but couldn't help giggling. "And yeah, it was a long break without you, but I don’t ever want to fight like that again, Luke. I’m serious.”
"Don't move yet," he begged. Luke's hands found your waist and he held you in place, blocking the hard on he was sporting. You smirked as you ran a hand through his hair, you had never seen him so desperate before.
“I was trying to have a serious moment, Moosey.”
“I know, I just can’t focus, not when you’re in that dress,” Luke mumbled, face buried in your neck. You felt your whole body shiver and you knew you wouldn’t last too long. His breath danced along your neck, making you want more.
"I'm glad you like it," you whispered. "I guess I'll have to wear it more."
"Hope it's easy to take off," Luke trailed off, alluding to your intimate moments that he craved.
"Well, what if we move soon and we call an uber and go somewhere a little quieter than this? Then we can talk." You mused. He looked at you contentedly and nodded quickly.
"And you can drop off the shots as a peace offering to my friends when I grab my coat," you said. Luke looked a little nervous but you assured him your friends wouldn’t make a big deal. You knew you weren't very convincing, but it didn't matter, because Luke was practically jumping up to carry the tray of shots over to the table where your friends were sat. They tried not to stare at the two of you as you walked over, but it was no use. There were grins on all of their faces as you said your goodbyes and grabbed Luke’s hand to pull him out of the bar and into an Uber to start the real fun of the night. And if Luke pressed you up against the outside of bar, made out with you the whole uber ride, and kissed you until you knew nothing but his name, that was a secret you'd never tell.
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writing-house-of-m · 11 months
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Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: A little bit of an anxious Wanda
Word count: 1648
Summary: Wanda is worried she has too many things when moving in with you
A/N: Just a little idea that came to mind when I saw this post. It was supposed to just be a short drabble and posted a while ago but it took me a longer to finish it because I kept adding little things. I hope you all like it, let me know what you think!
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The day had finally arrived. All of Wanda's things were packed and she was ready to move in with you. 
You had a house away from the compound, so it made the most sense to move there. 
She wasn't completely nervous about living with you. You were considerate and thought of her at every turn, you had even arranged a truck to gather her things, but the feeling lingered. 
There was one set of things she was really unsure about and Wanda wasn't sure what your response would be when you saw them. 
"Let's get started," you state with a kind smile on your face as you begin your first of many trips to the moving truck. 
It was sad to see that Wanda's life from Sokovia fit into one box. It was filled with things like the clothes she wore before her country was destroyed to small trinkets she managed to save in the rubble reminding her of her family.  
She didn't think she would recover from losing Pietro as well as her home all in one day. But she did and as much as you would deny it, it was thanks to you and your support. 
Other boxes were filled with new memories she had collected over the years since then. It was funny for Wanda to realise, as she was packing her things to leave, that these people she now considers her family and this place has been her home. 
She packed things like photographs with the team, new hobbies she picked up along the way and the bane of your existence - the clothes she had 'borrowed' from you. 
There must have been at least a whole suitcase full of your things making you half joke about the fact that she was making you do double the work because she couldn't have just left them at yours in the first place. 
She was ready with her rebuttal saying some of her clothes were already at yours giving you a cheeky smile that you kissed away as you walked by her. It didn't stop you from commenting on another two cases that were filled with more of her clothes. 
Slowly but surely you were making progress. You made sure you were careful because you didn't want to damage anything. 
You couldn't blame Wanda for the amount of things she had. The way her life has panned out, of course she would have grown attachments to the things she has in her life when she has already lost so much. 
When the idea of moving in with each other first occurred, after many conversations about your future together, both you and Wanda agree that if you want to have a life and a family together you would do so as normally as possible. 
That meant she was not allowed to use her powers and you were not allowed to hire a bunch of people to do all the hard work of loading the truck. Now, that you had lost count of how many times you had walked between the truck and Wanda's room, you were regretting making that decision so soon. 
As bags and boxes became more and more scarce, Wanda was dreading the oncoming realisation of what was left. Not to mention how many of them there were. 
You look around at the remaining bundles assessing what is left while also taking a short breather, "These are all your books?" You question with your hands on your hips and eyebrows furrowed, confusion lacing your voice. 
Wanda hums, but you are too deep in thought to hear the unsureness behind it. 
"I thought it was just a little cabinet you had, where did all these come from?" You continue, still thinking to yourself. 
"I had to keep a lot stored because I didn't have the space for them all," Wanda grimaces behind you. While you are still unaware of her uneasiness. 
Your shoulders drop, looking disappointed as you look around at the amount that is surrounding you. 
Wanda interrupts your thoughts, "I'll get rid of some, I know I have a lot. I just figured I could do it after moving them to yours? Because they are already packed," she trails off. 
You look more perplexed than before, "What? Why would you do that?" 
"Because I have too many," she says, almost as if it is a question. 
"No, it's fine, I have the room for them all," you say casually. If you knew about Wanda's hesitance you would have cracked your usual joke of having 'Stark money' because of your father. Instead you turn back around to face the piles of boxes and suitcases filled with varying literature. "It's just that I ordered a bookshelf, but it's definitely not going to be big enough. I'll have to cancel it." 
As you walk over to some boxes where the flaps are still open, you close them while you continue, Wanda watching you move with ease, "I was just thinking I can install my own shelves on an empty wall I have, but I'll need to reinforce them because I wouldn't want the shelves to dip in the middle from the weight."
Wanda feels a sense of relief as well as her body filling with warmth that only you can do without even knowing. Always thinking ahead, of what she needs. 
When you finish rambling about what type of wood you will buy, how much to get, and what size you will need, you finish taping the last unsecure box looking in Wanda's direction. 
Wanda feels her heart full of love for you and with a smile of admiration present on her face she walks slowly over to you.
These were the thoughts that were plaguing your mind. Not that her things were an inconvenience. But how best you can accommodate her. 
She places her arms around your neck, one hand playing with the hairs at the nape of your neck, while your arms automatically wrap around her waist. Wanda looks at you for a second before she rests her forehead against yours, sighing through her nose, signalling the weight lifting from her shoulders. 
"Are you okay, my love?" you ask quietly. 
She nods her head slightly against you, "I just love you a whole lot, you know that?" Wanda smiles. How could she have ever doubted you? 
Every worry Wanda had, you countered with a solution. Every time. All new furniture was already built fresh, ready for her to organise all her things when she arrives at the house with everything today. 
Whenever Wanda voiced her concerns about any little thing; too many clothes, shoes, records and her unvoiced biggest collection - her books. You were already thinking of a way to make it work. An example being when you jabbered on about extending the closet space so you would both get all your clothes in the same place, 'it needed a revamp anyway' you said so easily. 
"Well that's good. Because I love you a whole lot," you reply, matching her smile. 
Wanda presses her lips softly against yours, hoping to convey what she can't say in words with the action.  
This is the happiness Wanda was never able to let herself feel worthy of. Worry around every corner of another person she can potentially lose. 
But with you, you make everything better. More than she could have ever imagined so. 
"As much as I'd like to keep holding you, we still have a bit to go," you say when the kiss ends. 
Once everything is moved out you give Wanda a moment alone in her now old and empty room. She makes her way over to the stand beside her bed remembering two things she hadn't packed. 
A couple of framed photos; one of her as a child with her family, it was crumpled from always keeping it with her but still meant more to her than anything else she owned; the second was a photo with the avengers and you holding her from behind at one of your father's famous party's. 
She tears up a little at all the people she is able to call family and smiles when she thinks about the one she will make with you. 
After a moment longer she makes her way to where you are outside talking to Natasha and Steve near the truck. 
Wanda says goodbye to them with a hug each before turning to leave. They say their farewells, confirming they will see you both soon because there is always something to do in your line of work. You joke about the fact it's been a while since your dad threw a party and it would be more likely you will see them at one of those sooner than the world ending. 
As you buckle yourself in, Wanda does the same then takes a look at the compound. Now that she is moving out, Wanda feels a heaviness in her chest, she didn't think she would ever actually leave this place despite not seeing it as her home for the longest time. 
You take her hand in her lap and affirm she is okay before starting up the truck. She meets your eyes and the action lifts the weight on her chest as she nods her head. 
It has been a slow dream come true for Wanda. Finding a home in you. A dream she didn't even know she had until things started to get serious with you. It was something she never knew she wanted but now knows it is what she has always needed. 
"Let's go home," you say, kissing the back of her hand, smiling softly.
Wanda holds your hand tighter as you let it rest in her lap. Returning your soft smile, she whispers emotionally, "I already am home." 
The smile on your face widens knowing what she means. Silently agreeing she is your home too. 
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