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#like listen to it and tell me if i'm wrong bc it makes SENSE in my brain adsfgfhg
anastacialy · 3 days
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y'know, i keep making a habit of swinging my bat at hornets nests, but i have to say i'm getting so, so tired of people complaining about shows not making perfect sense when they aren't even close to done. we're four episodes into this season of doctor who. we're four episodes into this season of bridgerton. and yet in both fandoms i keep seeing people whine that such and such didn't make sense or it wasn't explained all the way and by god you guys i think maybe explanations might come later in the season. this is something most viewers will recognize as being called a 'plot.'
#like maybe a tiny bit of media literacy... might save you#and if you think i'm being mean like. its okay if you don't get it at first. it's okay if you don't understand the themes. but maybe#instead of stamping your feet and saying this makes no sense and i hate what they're doing and and and#maybe you could try listening to other people's interpretations of things and you'll find that what the show is trying to tell you becomes#more clear! would you look at that. wild how that happens#like im sorry you're entitled to your opinions but calling things bad writing just because you don't quite get it or it doesn't resonate#with you personally... i don't think you should just say this was shitty and worthless#the examples im using are because both resonate with me btw. 73 yards was existential horror it was hill house and bly manor#(im going to write about this in another post btw bc it compels me so)#it was about the way fear of abandonment can haunt you how mental illness can haunt you how you feel like you can drive people away#just by being yourself (the Woman was Herself what caused ruby to be abandoned was Her it's about her feeling as though she was the cause#of everyone who left her even as a baby even the people who loved her most could decide to not love her at the drop of a hat)#colin bridgerton is masking and faking a personality because it has been proven that time and time again#being Himself is Wrong that he annoys people he makes himself into what people expect of him because he's tired of being abandoned too#his family ignores and does not reply to his letters this season PEN stopped replying to his letters#his brother was cruel to him for being a romantic his friends LAUGHED AT HIM for saying sex is meaningful to him and don't they feel lonely#his Fake Rake persona makes viewers cringe because! its!! fake!!! he's faking it! HE GETS CALLED OUT ON IT TWICE IN EP ONE#if you don't understand he's faking it then that's on you at that point! i don't know! maybe take a minute to sit in the discomfort and ask#why did this show make me react this way and do you think maybe it was on purpose#''73 yards was confusing'' do you think confusion may be one of the ways ruby feels about her abandonment?#there is a theme in all of her episodes so far is it ''badly written'' unclear to you or do you just refuse to think critically about it#txtly#and im sorry for tagging this its just for my blog i kinda wish they still didnt show up in tags if i tag them all the way at the bottom#[old lady ruby voice] ''i used to be able to tag things just for myself once upon a time''#bridgerton#bridgerton spoilers#doctor who#doctor who spoilers
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lacebird · 2 months
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i'm gonna need everyone to pls take a second and listen to this specific part of this song
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prongsiepotter · 1 month
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sunbathing by the black lake | j. potter
summary: your childhood best friend james is being a little shit but in an endearing sort of way while showing his little acts of love
pairing: james potter x childhood bsf!reader
a/n: my first time writing on this blog!! i have a childhood friends to lovers playlist on spotify if anyone wants to listen to it bc i have a feeling it’s all i’ll write abt lol would really appreciate some feedback! enjoy x
──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°
There's no way to explain how the energy shifts when James is around. It simply does. Just like how you can feel the sun beating down on you right now. Hence, you can sense his approach without as much as a glance at him, your gaze continuing to drift across the notes Remus left for you in the margins of your essay.
James knows that, of course, as he strides across the grass towards you. You have never really talked about it, but seeing how he can also just tell when you're about to enter a room he's in, you both have made it a habit to not announce your presence. There's just no need.
So when he plops down next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder like it's his birthright, neither of you is surprised. In fact, it’s just right. Like puzzles slotting in perfectly.
For a few minutes, the world consists of birds chirping, a warm breeze, and the distant laughter of a group of Hufflepuff girls sitting a few paces away. You flip the page and let out a huff of laughter. James chuckles, his voice low and right next to your ear as he says, "Wouldn't be Moony if everything he touches didn't have a chocolate stain on it."
"It's like he's marking his territory." You try to rub it off with your sleeve, but the smudge only gets bigger. You squint and hold the paper in front of you, trying to discern if it's that noticeable (it is) but with a shrug you decide you couldn't care less. The movement makes James' glasses slide down to the tip of his nose, and he leans forward to make a dramatic face at you as if you had done him deeply wrong. With a playful eye-roll, you push them back for him and get a signature James Potter smile in return.
"Cheers, love." He beams at you and retrieves a balled-up napkin from the inside of his robe before taking it off. You watch him roll up the sleeves of his white Oxford shirt to his elbows, placing the mystery napkin on your lap. You glance at it curiously. "Unwrap it," he says. "It's for you."
Doing as you're told, you perk up with excitement when the content reveals itself. "Effie sent them?" You hold up the mangled piece of apple crumble like it's the most sacred thing you have ever gotten to hold, which it is. James nods, smiling at your happy dance. "I love her apple crumbles. Thank you!"
"You love everything my mum bakes," he says while lying down on his side, right in front of you with his head propped up on his palm. There's a glimmer in his amber eyes.
You give him a pointed look.
"Because everything that lovely woman bakes is the most scrumptious and amazing thing to exist." You take a big bite from the apple crumble to prove your point and your eyes flutter close as you hum. "This is why we're friends, Potter," you say with a mouthful. "No other reason. This is it."
"Oh yeah?" You hear the amusement in the drawl of his voice. Then he cups the side of your face and you look down at him as he distractedly brushes off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. He looks up at the sky. "That's a shame because this is the last time you will get anything my mum has baked."
James' gaze is still turned upward, giving the sky his utmost interest as if to check if it's still blue. You stare at him in bewilderment. "Are you insane? Why would you deprive me of Effie's food?"
"I wonder how the weather will be tomorrow," he responds flippantly, and you swear your eye twitches.
"Oh, I'm sorry," you say, narrowing your eyes at him. "I forgot you were satan's spawn."
James does not react. You don’t think he will even reply with the way how he’s squinting and examining the very much non-existent clouds in the clear sky. But then he looks at you like you had asked him to solemnly share his meteorology findings with you, and with undeserved earnestness he tells you, "I think tomorrow will be just as sunny as today."
You blink at him. Then give a long-suffering sigh. "I thought you cared about me."
"I do," James says, rolling over to lay on his back with his eyes closed. "Which is why I can't have you lose your mind over some flour and sugar. I'm doing us a favour. Preserving our friendship." He cracks an eye open to look at you. "We've been friends since diapers, not because of my mum’s food, but because I'm brilliant and extremely lovable. Get your facts straight, woman."
You toss the napkin at his face.
He laughs.
Glancing at the last piece of the apple crumble in your hand, you ask, "Do you want it?"
James shakes his head, looking fond. "You assault me and then offer me the last bite?"
"Force of habit," you say flatly. "I can take it back."
He chuckles and takes off his glasses, resting his arm over his eyes. "You can have it, love. Cheers."
You don't have to be told twice and pop it happily in your mouth. With his other arm, he sweeps the scattered pages aside and pats the spot next to him. "Sleep with me?"
You quirk a brow. "Trying to get into my knickers, Potter?"
A breathy laughter escapes his lips. "Are you offering?"
"You wish."
"Merlin, yes." He sighs dramatically as if all James Potter has known in this lifetime was the pain of longing. He grabs blindly for you and pulls lightly at the hem of your skirt. "A man can dream. But for now just nap with me, yea?"
You bat at his wrist but let him pull you towards him nonetheless. There was never any other option, really.
In the blink of a moment, you're nestled into James’ side. His arm is cushioning your head, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as he tells you his thoughts on a book he recently read because he knew you liked it. You listen intensely, enjoying the easy conversation and the sunlight warming your skin. The world feels peaceful, and it doesn't take long before sleep pulls you both into a cosy slumber.
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user2772636 · 4 months
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
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××《☆》××
Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.
===
Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: bullying (poor pichon), boys being boys, very confusing feelings, angst bcs of achilles and patroclus (maybe even joseph and reader???), miscommunication in the enemies to lovers department, swearing
This chapter has references to The Song of Achilles book (ik its not the right timeline, but we have to do this for the angst so bare w me)
===
===
Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say
===
The scores of our exams are being published. I sit in my seat, eyes scanning the numbers and fingertips smoothing out the paper. Most of them are in the ranges of 12-16, which is good enough for me.
"As you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods. Next week, we are going to try a new approach." I look up from my papers, interested in the proposal of something new.
"You're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs. You'll be working with the classmate sitting next to you, and then you'll present your work in class together. And for a sense of free will, you can present about any subject. How does that sound?"
I look to the girl next to me. Her name was Louise. She's quiet most of the time and keeps to herself. I smile softly. She smiles back.
The teacher clears his throat, eyes on Descamps and Dupin. "You two, of which I already expect a chaotic presentation, will be paired with someone else." His eyes land on me and Louise. Please, no.
"Descamps and Pardine, Louise and Dupin. Please remember your partner." I internally groan, placing my head into my hands. I look to my side, already seeing Louise and Dupin waving to each other, Louise giggling. I groan again. I don't look at Descamps. He doesn't, either.
Pichon raises his hand. "What if we're sitting alone?" The class laughs. I look at Pichon in pity.
"Well, you can work with Ms. Sabiani." The teacher says in response.
"Look. Pichon is blushing. He's turned pink like a pig." Dupin says, and the class laughs again. Even Louise giggles. She likes him, it's obvious, but what is there to like? I roll my eyes.
"That's enough, Dupin." The teacher shouts at him, the smile on his face gone. Annick raises her hand.
"Do we really have to work in pairs?" She asks.
"That's the whole point." He answers. "And I'm warning you, half a pair's work will result in half the grade."
××《☆》××
As I walk down the stairs, I look up when I hear pigs oinking. I wasn't wrong. Descamps' group of friends are pigs.
When I spot Simone and Michèle in the bench under the tree, our usual spot, I make my way to them.
"Help me gain some decency to go up to Descamps and not punch him in the face." I groan as I sit on the bench with them.
"It's unfortunate for you. Our teacher could've picked anyone else." Michèle says, pity in her voice.
"Should I go talk to him now or later?" They don't answer because they see Descamps make his way towards us.
I fight the urge to start an argument with him. About anything, really. Just to get him to stay a bit longer. I clear my throat at the thought.
"Your place?" He says, now standing infront of us, hands in his pockets. I nod once, and he walks away.
"Thank god that was over quick." Something deep inside me knew I didn't mean that.
Jean Pierre walks towards us with a book in hand. I look at Simone with a teasing smile, but there's something in her eyes I can't really tell. Like she knows something.
"Here, this is yours." He hands Michèle the book. "I put it in my bag by mistake." Michèle thanks him. He walks away with a 'see you later'.
Michèle continues to complain to us about her grades. Simone sighs, mind floating away. I look at her confused. I'll ask her about it later.
I look towards Applebaum. We make eye contact, and I smile. He looks away, fear in his eyes. What's up with everyone today?
××《☆》××
In one of those rare moments, my parents are home for dinner. We sit in the dining table, enjoying our food.
"Someone's coming over tomorrow. I know you won't be here, but I thought it'd be better if you knew." I tell them, handing small bits of food to George.
"Oh? What will you be doing?" My father asks, cutting his food into smaller pieces.
"Group project. We'll probably just stay in my room." I pet George as he eats his food.
"Are we going to meet her even after the project?" My mother says, looking up from her food.
"He, actually. And no." This makes them pause, silence surronding the room. My father clears his throat.
"A boy? And both of you will be in your room?" He says, placing his elbows on the table.
I take time to process this. "Papa, no. It's not like that." I turn red in my seat. "Trust me, it's just a project. Nothing else."
"Of course we trust you. It's just, you know. You're a teen, and teens go through... stuff." My mother says, stuttering a bit. I cover my face with my hands.
"Mama, please don't make it weird." I groan.
"No, it's perfectly normal for your age. If you want, we can forget about it-" I cut her off.
"Yes, please. Forget about it." I cut my food aggressively, face as warm as my plate.
We stay quiet as we finish the rest of our dinner.
××《☆》××
"The league of nations, L.O.N..." I fade the rest of the discussion out, watching the way the sun rests on the trees leaves, the birds tending to themselves. Last nights conversation clouds my mind, and I catch myself smiling for no reason.
I sigh every time, biting my lip in my own embarrassment. I glance at Descamps. He's focusing on the lesson for once. Nothing will happen at my place, right?
He feels my gaze on him and gently turns his head. His eye meets mine, and there's a small quirk on the corner of his lip.
"Quiet at the back." Ms. Giraud calls out suddenly.
Descamps looks away. I purse my lips, something stirring in my chest. My breathing is faster, and I feel warmer. Have I gotten sick already?
Annick walks into the room, hair tousled and frizzy. Ms. Giraud shouts at her, and my ear drums are about to explode.
Ms. Giraud gives Annick detention, and with every word Annick said back, an hour or two more.
Ms. Giraud continues to piss me off every second of the day with her strictness and very clear jealousy towards Annick. She finally continues the discussion, and I (annoyingly) decide to finally listen.
××《☆》××
I wait right outside the gate for Descamps. He comes running to the gate but slows down when he sees me, acting like he wasn't just leaping to get here.
"Hey." He says, acting nonchalant. He even has his hand in his pocket.
"Hi. Let's get going." I keep my face blank as I lead the way to my place. We walk in silence, listening to our footsteps next to each other.
Once we make it to my flat's building, I go up the steps, stopping in front of my door and unlocking it.
We step inside, the flat looking warm with the sunlight entering through the windows. I lock my door and drop the keys on my kitchen counter.
"Your coat?" I reach my hands out. He throws his coat to me, the heaviness of it making me stumble. I scowl but hang it anyway.
"Head to my room. Down the hallway to the right." I say as I grab a few supplies from my father's office.
"Want me in your bed already?" He calls out once he's inside. I hear a yelp.
I run to my room. "Descamps, are you okay?" I ask worriedly. He stares at George.
"What is that?" He points to George, who's currently walking toward me. I bend down and pet him, planting a kiss on his head.
"This is George." I carry George and craddle him like a baby. I walk towards Descamps with the furball in my arms. I rock him slowly.
"You can touch him if you want. He doesn't bite." I smile at the orange cat, then look up at Descamps. He's staring at me with the most soft look I've seen him wear. My heart thumps in my chest.
He clears his throat, hand going up shakily to pet George. George purrs when Descamps pets him. There's now a smile on Descamps face, as warm as his stare.
I bite my lip at the proximity. I memorise as much as I can about him.
The way he was breathing, like he was on a bed so soft he could sink into it. The way he smelt like faded cigarette smoke and expensive cologne. The way his bones moved under his skin as he bent over to take a closer look at George. The number of times he's blinked, the number of times he's laughed under his breath.
I dive deeper into my trance as he looks up at me. The way he stared now is so different from the way he did all those times before. Like we knew something that we haven't acknowledged yet. Or chose not to.
Something falls in the kitchen, and we snap back to reality. My face warms up, the lighting from the windows making it clearer.
Descamps walks away from me, clearing his throat again. "The cat's ugly." This makes me snap my head to his direction.
"What did you just say?" My brows furrow, defensive of the cat sleeping in my arms.
He rolls his eye. "Nothing. Let's get the project started, I guess." I glare at him for a couple more seconds, then I gently place George down on the bed, excusing myself to get more stuff from my father's office.
When I'm halfway to my room, I hear whispering. I peek at the slit on my door, wondering what was happening behind it.
Descamps is petting George, whispering words as if he's hushing a baby to sleep.
My aura softens, and my heart bursts with admiration. I accidentally drop something and curse to myself. Descamps hears the thud on the floor and pushes himself away from George. George continues to sleep.
I open the door then close it gently. "Let's get started."
××《☆》××
"Do you have suggestions?" I ask Descamps. He doesn't answer, his head turned to the side. I sigh.
Before I could say anything, he talks. "What's that?" He nods to the book on my shelf. It was a copy of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, with a notebook strapped on the front.
"It's nothing important." I shake my head. He purses his lips in thought.
"Can I see it?" His question catches me off guard, his head finally turning to look at me. No one's ever showed interest in my books or notes. I stay quiet, then after a while, I nod.
He gets up from the bed and grabs the book. He takes the string that attaches the notebook to the copy off. He scans the back of the book and hums.
"We can base the project off of this, if you don't mind." He holds up the paperback and the notebook. I'm stunned in my place.
"It's really not that interesting-"
"It must be if you had a whole notebook dedicated to it." There isn't even a teasing tone when he said that. He meant it genuinely.
"Fine." I sigh, grabbing the notebook from his grasp.
"Good." "Great." "Amazing." "Piss off." "Whatever."
"Mind if you read it to me?" He says. "I have a feeling I'll understand better when you say it, since it's your work."
I nod, hesitantly. I opened the first page of my notebook. Most of the stuff I've written in it is a summary and a review of the book.
He leans back on my pillows. I let him. I started to read.
"Patroclus was a young prince, exiled from his kingdom for accidentally killing a boy, and was taken in by their neighbouring king, King Peleus."
George purrs as I pet him. I shift to a more comfortable sitting position. Descamps' eyes are on me.
"When Patroclus first saw Achilles, it was in a competition run by Patroclus' father. He described Achilles as if he was looking at a painting made with precision and grace." I flip the page. George walks over to Descamps' lap. I huff, ignoring it.
"When they met and officially talked, Patroclus thought he'd hated Achilles. Achilles and his beauty, his speed, his perfection. In the years that pass, they grow to be attached to the other." George meows. The meow that indicates he wants petting.
I pause my reading, and Descamps looks at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"
"George wants pets." Descamps makes an 'oh' sound and pets George. He meows again.
"Maybe he wants you." Descamps says, petting the fur baby on his lap. I sigh and lean in close to pet George. With the uncomfortable position, I shift to sit beside Descamps on the bed. I clear my throat and pet George. I continue to read.
"They knew everything about each other. What they'd prefer, like how I like the rain too much to cover it with an umbrella, but know I'll get sick without it. That's how the two worked. They knew every detail, every routine, every habit, every movement. A love you'd have to fight the gods for."
A page is flipped, smoothing out of paper echoes in the room.
"Achilles and Patroclus loved each other with every inch of their heart and soul. Quoting the book, Patroclus states, 'He is half my soul, as the poets say'. Along with the famous paragraph." My eyes switch to the next page.
Descamps shifts in his place, leaning back on the pillows, looking at the pages where I'm reading off of. I start to relax, leaning back, too. George purrs.
"I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."
I take a glance at Descamps, and he's already looking at me. George snores in his sleep, making the aura of the room warmer. More comfortable.
His eye dropped to my lips, and I could've sworn I was hearing a heartbeat as fast as the wind at fall. I glance at his, pink and soft, like a cushion ready for rest.
When we lean in, slowly, too slow, my heart drops as he pulls away and stretches. I furrow my eyebrows, a dread of realisation. He's been toying with me. I close my notebook and gather my things.
"Where are you off to?" He asks. I don't answer him.
"Hey," He grabs my arm. I take it back from him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." I say coldly. "I'll finish this project myself."
"What? No. This is a group project remember?"
"I can't keep doing this. You're too hard to work with." I stack the books and materials in my arms.
"We haven't even gotten anything done yet." He flops his hands in the air.
"Exactly. You're too distracting."
"What did I do? I've been quiet the whole time."
"Yeah, well, that's the problem. You're too quiet. You aren't suggesting things."
"What does that have to do with anything?" He raises his voice.
"Just shut up, okay? Just leave. I told you I'll finish the project by myself." I get up from the bed, heading to my father's office.
"But I don't get why you're suddenly mad!" He stands up, following me.
"You don't have to know. Just leave me alone, okay?"
"Fucking fine. You're being too stubborn anyways. Do all the work. Getting pissed off for no fucking reason." He grabs his coat from the rack, putting it on. He doesn't even glance at me, opening and shutting the door with a loud slam.
I even out my breathing. It was going fine. Then I think to myself, what was? Me and Descamps, going fine? I laugh at the thought. I hated that boy. I hated him with my whole heart. My mind travels to the notes I was just reading.
Patroclus had thought he hated Achilles in the start, too. I shake the thought out of my head, slipping against the wall to sit on the floor, knees to my chest.
I hear tapping on the floor boards. I look to my side to see George, meowing softly. I take a deep breath in, then reach my hand out to pet him.
I hate him. And I know I do. He lingers in my mind like a fog in the mountains. The way his aura had softened, his smile, his warmth. I hated the thought of him, but then he smiled, and like Achilles, his face was like the sun.
××《☆》××
Night comes, and I lay in my bed, windows slightly open for the wind to come through. I'm restless, not getting a blink of sleep. I'm halfway through the project already. If Descamps had helped, it'd take longer, I think to myself, trying to still feel angry.
I don't feel angry at all anymore. There's a sort of regret in me for pushing him away. But at the same time, it's what he deserved. We had leaned in, and I didn't even know what I was expecting. I should've expected him to pull away, but what was he going to do in the first place?
Was he going to whisper in my ear? If so, what would he whisper to me? Was he going to say something about how I write, how I speak? A thought so blurry pops up in my head, and I brush it off. But it felt warm, so safe, so soft. There was a scent stuck in my head as I reminisced on the thought, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
I fall asleep in the process, dreaming about the thought instead. Limbs touching, bending, adjusting. I taste cigarettes and strawberries. I smell smoke and expensive perfume. I feel something soft against my lips, hands cupping my face, my neck, my head, and my waist.
He felt warm, tall, and heavy against me. I hold onto the dream, relaxing.
××《☆》××
I wake up, sweat coating my skin. George sits on the window sill, the sun making him shine like gold. I sit up and stretch. I get off my bed and head to my bathroom.
My hair is messy, and I have a bit of dried drool on the corner of my mouth. I wash my face to give myself some energy. I take my clothes off lazily, tying my hair up and getting inside my shower.
Once I finish, I comb and fix my hair, head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, grab my things for school, including the unfinished project, and head to the front door.
A stack of paper tied with string greets me. I furrow my eyebrows. There's no note. I squat down and pick it up. I instantly know who it's from.
It's an essay about Achilles and Patroclus, detailed and opinionated. Written on the last piece of paper, sitting at the bottom of the stack, it reads, "I bought a copy. Finished it for you."
I stood still, processing the words, flipping through the papers to double check if they're authentic. I let out a scoff of surprise. My head snaps to a nearby clock. I'm going to be late if I don't start walking now.
My feet carry me to the front gates of Voltaire, the familiar faces and light chatter calming me. I spot Simone and Michèle, and I make my way to them.
××《☆》××
Rain starts to fall. The rain always brought me comfort. The different sounds it made when hitting different objects, the way it sways with the wind, the smell it gives the grass after.
I lag behind Simone and Michèle as they make their way to the field. I look for my satchel, then remember I'd forgotten my umbrella. I curse to myself, finding the satchel. It felt heavier than usual. I look inside, then see a clear umbrella. I open it and twist it around, gaping in awe. There's a note in the bag. I open to read it.
"Don't get sick from what you love." The note said.
There's only one person I've told about my love for rain.
I head outside, hiding my red face once I see a drenched one-eyed boy. I smile to Simone and Michèle, spotting them seated on a bench. I glance behind me as I sit down, finding an eye already looking at me with a small smile. His smile drops, and he looks away when I catch him. I purse my lips.
We watch the match, getting my mind off of the boy with ash brown hair. Once the match finishes, we all make our way home. I look up, seeing the rain pattering against the clear umbrella. I smile, watching the water droplets slip off the plastic, hearing the pattering of rain.
××《☆》××
The next day, I repeat my routine. I thoroughly read through Descamps' essay, rewritting it to fit in with mine. I should be thankful, and I am, but Descamps is making my head hurt with the way he acts. I walked to school, going subject after subject, until our presentation finally came.
Earlier, I'd slipped him the script, tucking it in his bag. I hope silently that he's memorised it.
Annick and Pichon are presenting in front of the class. I smiled softly, impressed by the presentation, and refreshed with the dynamic of the two. If only things had gone differently with Descamps, we could've been good friends. But we aren't. I don't think we ever will.
Once they finish, our teacher calls me and Descamps to the front. My anxiousness radiates off my body. Simone and Michèle give me a reassuring look. I nod at them slightly.
My eyes meet Descamps, and we're standing at the front of the class. They're quiet, and my eyes scan all of them. Surprisingly, Descamps starts.
"Me and Pardine are going to present the story of Achilles and Patroclus and the debate of their relationship; romantic or platonic?" Descamps looks at me, his hand hovering at the small of my back for support.
I start, and faster than I thought, I finish the presentation. The room claps, as they do with the others. I glance at Descamps but see him already walking back to his seat. My smile dropped slowly, remembering I was still on his bad side, and vice versa.
I walk back to my seat quietly. I don't even hear the score because my mind is too occupied with the thought of him. Would we stay angry at eachother always? At the same time, it shouldn't matter. I hate him. Right?
I shake my head. I hate him, surely. I should. I dig deep in my head for a reason. Bullying Pichon and Michèle, toying with my feelings (feelings I'm not aware whether it's good or bad), the way he acts, and smells, and feels when he's near.
I fucking hate him. I really do. I hate him, I repeat in my head. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Then, like earlier, something inside me knows I don't mean it.
At the end of the day, I make peace with solitude. My mind wanders, and I notice that every time it does, they always end up with the face of a one-eyed boy.
Sure, Descamps gave me a finished essay for our project, and sure, he gave me an umbrella that was clear so I could see the rain. So what? I still hate him. Maybe just a little less now.
××《☆》××
End- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say.
Next- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
××《☆》××
End of chapter three. Rollercoaster of emotions this one. It's a bit shorter than usual because i took out a bunch of the scenes in the series to focus on the emotions of reader and hopefully u guys get what im trying to give. Thanks for reading, requests r open, and see u next chapter!!!
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luizd3ad · 1 month
Text
Game Time | Poly!Bartylus x GN!Reader
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader x Regulus Black
WC: 700
CW: swearing, mentions of Bartys dad 🤢, modern AU, mistreatment of Sims, anxiety
Author's Note: Honestly I just got this idea bc my sims hyper fixation is coming back. The little bit of French that’s in here I got from google please tell me if it’s wrong.
Summary: Regulus comes home to you and Barty playing the sims.
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Someone tell me to stop making theses for ever fic please. I won't listen but someone should still tel me.
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】
Regulus had spent the day with Sirius, just catching up. 
They've been finding it harder to do so since leaving Hogwarts so they try to make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. 
He did enjoy spending time with his brother but right now all he wanted to do was go home to his partners. 
You and Barty were like a breath of fresh air to him after his social battery was drained. Just being in the presence of both of you was enough to make him feel better. 
Regulus finally crossed the threshold to his shared flat. He took his shoes and jacket off at the entrance and put them in their designated places.
But then he noticed the flat was quiet which was rare considering Barty lived there.
“Mon amours? I’m home?”
Regulus called out looking around the flat curiously. 
No one was in the living room. He didn't hear anyone in the kitchen. 
He started walking down the hall that held their shared bedroom and the guest room/ office when he heard them.
“Angel, I love you but you're wrong!”
“Watch it Crouch! Or you'll end up in the basement next..”
Regulus was only slightly taken back when he heard his partner say that to their boyfriend. 
Honestly it wouldn't be the first time he heard them say something like that.
Barty then gasped and started shirking something about ‘Never feeling so betrayed’ which was something Barty would say often. 
Regulus took a deep breath mentally preparing himself and then opened the door to the office, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight in front of him.
There they were, the loves of his life hunched over the computer playing the muggle game that Remus had shown them.
‘The Sims’ he thinks it was called, but he couldn't quite remember. 
“Barty.. Did you take the ladder out of the pool again?”
Barty then gasped as if the thought was inconceivable. 
“What would make you think such a thing, angel?”
“I mean other than the fact that you've done it before? The sim’s name is Bartemius Crouch and he looks exactly like your father.”
Barty then giggles looking proud of himself. 
“Leave him there he deserves it.”
Barty says with a wide smile.
Regulus chuckles a little louder this time and shakes his head finally catching the attention of his partners.
You and Barty both turn your heads to look at Regulus. 
You send him a big smile and say.
“Hi my love, how's Sirius?”
“Sirius is fine. Now what are you two doing?”
Regulus say still standing in the doorway of the room.
“I'm trying to show our darling boyfriend that there's more to The Sims than killing the people that you wish you could kill in real life.”
“And I'm trying to show our angel that killing people in the game is the most fun you can have.”
“Wait, so you make the characters people you actually know?”
You and Barty look at each other and then look at Regulus with raised eyebrows.
“Obviously.”
Barty says looking at Regulus like it should be common sense.
“Wait so you have a character of me?”
“Of course we do.”
You say then turning back to the computer clicking on the mouse a few times and then waving Regulus over to show him a big house with sims of the three of you.
“Is this supposed to be our house?”
“Yes. Unfortunately we’re not all technically dating on here, since that's not an option.”
You explain while Barty crosses his arms while pouting and saying.
“Which is stupid.” 
Regulus just smiles at Barty and kisses his head. 
“It’s okay ​mon beau because we’re dating in real life.”
Regulus says while running his hand through his boyfriend's hair.
You and Barty spent the rest of the night showing Regulus your favorite parts of the game. 
Regulus found himself having a good time whether it was just because he got to spend time with the two of you or because he actually found the game entertaining he didn't know nor did he care.
He was just content and happy to be there.
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】
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hwanchaesong · 10 days
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━⁠☞🍽️ Second Course: He treats you so well, and you're naive enough to believe that only you have the key to his tasty heart. Or his pants. 🥢
🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor
wc: 1.0k
genre & warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of sex, cursing, crying, there's another girl, lovers to exes, pure heartbreak :D , Yeji of ITZY special appearance etc etc
a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.
ps. i've already reposted this but it still won't appear under the tags that i've put so ig i'll just let it be lmao. imma just post it the way it is bc i'm tired of trying and thinking on what to do to make it work.
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At the tender age of 13, you took note of everything that was written in an article that you accidentally opened and read on a fishy website entitled, 'Signs that your partner is falling out of love.'
You thought it would help you avoid conflict with a future partner, it would help you evade an impending heartbreak, but nothing can prepare you for the real world, it seems.
Your boyfriend, Park Seonghwa, was the definition of a picture perfect man.
He's kind, respectful and loving. He had all the love languages.
He never shunned away from skinship, and most of the time, he's the one who's initiating it. Giving you hugs and kisses even in public without any ounce of shame.
Even when he's busy, he still gives you the time of his day. Often, he would choose to lose sleep if it means that he'll be able to talk and see you after a long, tiring day at work.
He's also the type to buy 'just because' gifts. Randomly walking around a park then he'll see this cute bunny keychain, buying it immediately so he can give it to you because the bunny reminds him of you.
Fixing collars, tying shoelaces, cooking you food— he does it all, and naturally too. The way he pampers you like a mother hen is the sweetest thing you have ever seen in a man.
The most important thing though? It's his ability to listen and soothe all your worries away. He tells you that if you're overthinking, you can simply say it to him and he'll gladly give you all the assurance that you need.
So, what went wrong? Where did it go wrong? Is there something wrong with you?
The situation at hand made you question yourself, then again, are you really the problem here?
"The least you can give me is a reasonable explanation!" you yelled, gripping Seonghwa's arm that was holding his suitcase, attempting to stop him from leaving you without any form of closure.
"Well, what do you want me to say?" he snapped, raising his usual soft voice at you, something that he has never done before.
"A reason! Explanation, anything! Why are you suddenly breaking up with me?!" you blinked rapidly, the itchiness in your throat makes it harder for you to breathe, and the sinking feeling of dread in your stomach is urging you to vomit.
This is so fucking messed up.
Just last night, Seonghwa was fine. He even made love to you in your shared bed, whispering how good you are for him.
Last week, he brought you flowers. Last last week, he took you to a nice restaurant for dinner. Last month, he took you to Maldives for a summer getaway.
Nothing changed and everything felt the same, thus, the current happenings don't make sense.
You come home from work and the next thing you know, your significant other of how many years are mumbling nonsense of going separate ways. That you two are better off without the other.
You just don't fucking understand what the hell went wrong.
"I don't love you anymore."
You never knew that a mere sentence that is composed of five words is more than enough to break your heart, your world.
He doesn't love you anymore?
"Since when?" you weakly muttered, wanting answers that will probably hurt you more.
"For the last few months."
You winced, there were no signs of him not loving you. He must be lying, his shaky chocolate orbs say otherwise.
"Okay." you speak, no more energy to fight for him, to fight for a battle that is not worth the blood, sweat, and tears.
Just like that, you watched him walk away. Out of your home, out of your life, and you were left alone. Crying your heart out, gripping your chest as it physically hurts as well, the pain searing through you.
Two weeks later.
Your friend, Yeji, was making a ruckus, she was basically shoving her phone in your face.
"Y/N, look! Isn't this your ex?"
You peeked at the device, and your heart dropped along with your mood.
What the fuck?
That is your only reaction at the photo posted on Seonghwa's instagram because it hasn't been a month, and here he is, with a girl that he's being lovey-dovey with.
A girl.. a familiar one.
"That fucker." you uttered menacingly, your fists tightly clenched on your lap as your friends worriedly glanced at you.
Isn't that the one you asked him about? The fucking girl that was lingering around him all the damn time like a wretched fly. He told she's nothing but a co-worker.
Sure. Kissing your co-worker on the cheeksin a field of maple trees is very professional, isn't it?
You are not sure what to feel. He broke up with you so he could date that girl, it seems.
Should you be thankful? Or should you curse him until he dies?
Either way, now that you're thinking about it, maybe he really didn't fall out of love with you, just that he found someone that he loves more. There was no proof, but there was evidence of his upcoming betrayal.
The way he was always on his phone, and maybe, all the things he had done for you before were nothing but distractions so you wouldn't notice what he was doing behind your back.
A lady's gut never lies, yet you choose to ignore it, and this is what you get.
You laughed yet the tears dripping down your cheeks is the complete opposite of your actions.
Not once did you hear him apologize during the argument about the break-up, and my god, did you hate him so much for entering your life like a storm and leaving such a mess behind.
Park Seonghwa is no cheater, but he is a raging traitor.
Then again, no one is at fault here but you, as you should've seen this coming. You should've been alert, using your rationality instead of your useless heart, and now you're paying the price for his treason.
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taglist:
@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @shakalakaboomboo @xdannix @nsixns
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missmeinyourbones · 11 months
Note
Hiii leah! congratulations on your milestone, I'm so excited for this event and grateful for your wonderful writing! I'd like to request levi x "I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep" if that's alright, bc would've could've should've is my whole life. thank you <3
I FIGHT WITH YOU IN MY SLEEP (l. ackerman)
L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT!
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Things are off between the two of you—or maybe just you.
Because Levi seems fine, not that he's one for dramatic displays of emotion, but recently, the argument you had a few days ago seems to be the furthest thing from his mind.
Which is valid because you talked about it, discussed it like adults and apologized. The case should be closed and you should be moving on.
But for some strange reason, you can't.
The tiny argument that spewed into something much larger has been eating away at your decaying insides for days, now.
So much so, you're actually losing sleep over it.
After your standard good morning greetings, you fall into your usual breakfast routines. Levi sits at the kitchen table, sipping from his steaming mug and admiring the calmness of the morning from the window. You wipe down the counter, counting your breaths and hoping you can calm down before your anxiousness bubbles over and—
"You were in my dream last night," you casually breathe, pouring creamer into your coffee and watching the colors melt together with your spoon.
It's such a funny thing to admit. Like he's a high school crush slowly taking over your subconscious and not the man who's seen every inch of you and still chooses to see more, it feels oddly intimate telling him this.
You hear Levi kiss his teeth, "It's too early for you to be filthy."
"Not that kind of dream."
You wait for his response, and when it doesn't come, you turn from the counter to face him. Eyebrows raised and wanting him to take the bait, you're surprised to find him already staring back at your impatient stance.
"You're not gonna ask me about it?" you shake your head, a bit irritated with his lack of interest in something that's been rotting away inside of you.
He takes a deep breath, one that would sound exasperated if you didn't know him. But you do, and you know it's one of faux irritation. "And what was I doing in your dream?"
"We were fighting," you speak softly, feeling the tension rise at your few words. "It was pretty bad, too."
You watch your lover scowl in thought, eyebrows furrowed when he quips.
"Fighting? About what?"
"I don't even remember," you say truthfully, and Levi can sense the sudden change in your tone. You're tired, exhausted, from both lack of sleep and something far stronger. "I just remember being so mad at you and I couldn't stop crying."
He watches you carefully like a cat contemplating its next move. He purses his lips in thought, taking in your stressed expressions and bitten fingernails. Still unsure of the cards handed to him, he merely hums in response.
Wrong move, he quickly realizes.
You speak with slight hostility when you scoff, "That doesn't concern you?"
"Why would it concern me? It was just a dream," he tries to put out the flame before it spreads. "You told me last week that you had a dream about growing a tail."
"Dreams can mean stuff sometimes," you're quick to spell it out for him.
He tries to tease, "And what does you growing a tail mean?"
The wrinkle forming between your brows practically screams at him—another wrong move.
Exasperated, your gaze falls back to the now mixed beige of your coffee when you weakly give in, "Levi, I'm talking about the fighting one."
After a moment, Levi hums again, which is his way of telling you to continue. It's what he does when he wants to let you know he's still listening, still wants to talk to you, even if he doesn't know exactly what to say.
You make things a bit easier for him when you sigh into your mug, "Sometimes dreams can manifest subconscious thoughts or feelings."
"So you're subconsciously mad at me," Levi states with little room for argument, finally connecting the dots of your stubborn riddles.
And when he finally gives you the answer you've been looking for, all confidence is lost and you meekly shrug and shrink beneath his hardened gaze.
"Hey, look at me." His voice is soft yet stern, commanding your attention when his thumb gently holds your chin upwards.
You let him, and when he sees the tiny tears brewing at your lash line, he whispers.
"Is this about what happened last week?"
Yes, you want to scream in his stupid face. How can someone as smart as him be so ignorant at times?
Instead, you choose to weakly mumble out a small, "I dunno, maybe."
"Wanna go talk some more about it? Maybe..." you practically hear the fight in his hesitancy when he weakly offers, "…in the bath?"
He fights off a smile when he sees your face twitch in thought, clearly shocked at his offer.
"Am I still dreaming? Or is this you finally admitting you actually like taking baths with me?" your question comes out half teasing half disbelieving.
"I like making you happy," he corrects, "and I'd like to ease your subconscious, if that's the case."
This time, it's you that's humming for him to continue, loosening your stance and letting him gently shove you in the direction of the bathroom.
Levi takes it as a win, because if him sitting in a lukewarm bath with you for a half hour, rehashing an argument he thought was already resolved, means you feel better—means you're back to dreaming your usual dreams about growing extra body parts and doing unspeakable things to one another—then he'll just have to swallow his pride and sit in that damn tub.
"Besides," you hear him mumble from behind you, "I'm supposed to be the one who can't sleep. You're supposed to be the one who hogs the blankets and kicks me in the middle of the night."
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inkskinned · 2 years
Text
hey it's nanowrimo. i have tips bc i've done it about 34 times.
Don't edit. Ever. Stop it. If you just decide to start a new project half thru this one with all new characters, no problem. pick up and keep writing as if you'd already written the first half of that.
"but i spelled it wrong" whatever. "but the grammar" whatever. make it exist first. no time for sense. think like you're working on a typewriter. no backspace. only forward go.
Don't re-read further than a paragraph or two backwards. "did i mention the gun before?" listen - it doesn't matter. if you need there to be a gun there, the gun is there. put it back in once you finish the book.
"i forgot the specifics of X thing i already wrote" whatever. change it, make a note/comment to figure it out later, and just write what makes sense for the moment. "no raquel it's legit the characters name and origin" idc that character is now reborn as Claudius from Elsewhere. it's fine.
only you see your mistakes. nobody else knows. one of the ways writing and dance overlap - only you know the choreography. nobody else will know if you miss a step, so just keep dancing and pretend you meant to do it like that.
it's an illusion that you need to write linearly - from point A to point B to point C. Nah; that's just timeline propaganda. I've written a LOT of books out of order and just reordered them once i've finished. if you have a scene you'd LOVE to write but can't get there yet because of plot, just fuckin write the scene. I've always found its easier to establish "point F" "point J" and "Point A" and then wiggle my way between those scenes.
write what you WANT to write. 230 pages of smut? of well-researched discussion on bread? whatever. the point is to strengthen muscles however you can.
if you miss a day, a week, whatever. not the end of the world. we all have dry days. also time is a myth so u can do this challenge whenever u want.
as soon as you try to write for a specific audience, you kill your voice. you are writing for yourself. stop thinking about how people will take ur book. it don't matter. what matter is u, enjoying writing. i luv u.
play to your strengths. i have characters talk so much because i don't know how to write a plot if it kills me but i'm really good at dialogue so.
i love a flight of fancy. write a poem in there. shift tactics and write in code. keep it fun for yourself.
see what happens if you shift something major about ur main characters - gender, wealth, superpowers. or if you change point-of-view. or if you kill everyone in a big explosion. do NOT edit anything before this or after it. often these little weird one-off exercises teach me what interests me about what i'm working on. it is never what i thought. plus it is a fun way to add like 1k words.
stretch.
it's for fun and for practice. stop doing that project if it's giving you anxiety. once my nano was literally 50k words of half-started stories. just things i tried and tried and tried and wasn't able to flesh out. oops. but i am now 50k words of a better writer.
add dragons?
read books/listen to books on tape/etc. people often make the mistake of "buckling down" to just write. you need inspiration. you need to like. fill up on words. you need to remember how it feels to lose yourself in a story.
i don't have the time or space to really talk about this in this post but a lot of creative people turn to drugs/alcohol because it can help you be more creative. this is harmful, and walking a blade that only cuts deep. if you notice you and your loved ones are turning more to substances, please know i love you and i hope you are able to get help soon. i feel like this almost never gets mentioned because it's kind of a hazy underbelly to art. you are always more important than the work.
on that note. drink your fukin. water.
don't talk about a story until you've finished it. once you tell the story, it exists already, and isn't about discovery. i usually have a very canned "haha we'll see" response.
grapes :) tasty snack.
i love you be free.
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wikiangela · 4 months
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fuck it friday
tagged by @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie 💖
so I started a new wip lol 🙈 I really need to work on all the other ones but I'll get to everything haha so i'm not sure if any of this makes sense for buck tbh but idgaf, this is just me projecting my own thoughts and feelings™️ and making it about him processing his death lol 💁 it is gonna be pre-slash buddie tho bc obviously I have to 😂
ngl i kinda don't wanna share any of it but also i wanna share all of it bc i'm kinda loving how it's turning out haha so fuck it, here are two short snippets haha
___
Ever since he died, Buck has been feeling… off. Numb. Sad. Exhausted. He’s not even sure how to explain it, how to voice it, so he doesn’t. When people ask how he is, he says he’s fine. And he is, he swears he is. He’s okay, he’s alive, he has his amazing friends and family, a job he loves, everything is fine. But… but. He’s not sure what the hell is wrong, but a part of him is not fine. Hasn’t been fine since the lightning strike.
(...)
He doesn’t want to go home. He just wants to keep driving, wherever the road takes him. Driving is good, he likes driving, letting his thoughts wander, listening to music, having control of something. He thinks that’s it, that’s why. Driving is one of the few times he feels fully in control, his feet controlling the speed, hands holding the steering wheel and dictating the direction. Whether he makes it to work or gives into the thoughts that tell him to not turn the wheel and let his car crash into a tree or a building, or another car – it’s all up to him. He doesn’t- he won’t crash his car on purpose, but sometimes he wonders… maybe at least that’ll make him feel something. Make him hurt, make him scared, anything. Make him die, this time permanently- he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t, he swears he doesn’t. He just wonders sometimes, that’s all.
He doesn’t wanna go home, so he decides to keep driving. Just a few more minutes, to clear his head.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @nmcggg @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess
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luvstarss · 1 month
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can I have a request with jj maybank x shy! reader where you work at the beach in a bar or something like that and stares at him all the time bc you're afraid to ask him out and he gives a typical jj answer for stalking him and you're upset & avoiding him. until kie tells JJ he's wrong it's just you're in awe? Fluff ending please 🥺
You can write it like you want, just an idea! Love it anyway
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Oblivious
JJxReader
Warnings:Alchohol.Talk about sex I guess?
I'm working behind the counter as I watch JJ pick out some surf gear "You're staring"my co-worker Leah chimes in "Hm what?"I say as I snap out of my train of thought. She just laughs and continues to stock shelves.
JJ had been coming into the store almost every day for the last few weeks buying random shit like surf wax or a new shark necklace. He comes up to the counter "Just them please" he says as he looks at me with a smile "You've been coming here a lot recently"I giggle with a smile "Surf season coming up good waves and shit I gotta prepare" he replies with a cheesy grin.
I round up his items "fifteen dollars fifty"I say as I open the register "fuck I've only got 10 hold em' for me ?I'll come back to pay for the rest" he replies as he looks through his pockets embarrassment painted on his face."you're good"I say with a small smile "what?"he says looking up “don't worry about it take it as my discount"I say "oh-Thankyou so much"he says  with a warm smile as I give him his stuff and he leaves the surf shop.
Timeskip
“You sure I look okay Ames?”I say in an unsure tone to my best friend Amy as I look in the mirror pulling my dress down and doing what I can to make myself feel more comfortable in the short skin tight material “bitch you look so fucking good” she says as she stares back at me through the reflecting in the mirror.
“don’t worry JJ will love it” she adds with a teasing grin. I give her an unimpressed look through the mirror “I fucking hate the fact I like him” I reply as I brush out the curls in my hair “Can’t help true love” she says with the same teasing grin still painted on her face.
Me and Amy finish up getting ready and head to the boneyard. As we walk onto the sand the sweet smell of alcohol and weed fills my senses. We go over to the keg and fill up our cups. As I look around grasping my surroundings I lock eyes with a familiar blonde boy standing with his usual group of friends wearing his signature grey cargo shorts and black tank top. I immediately look away and turn back to Amy.
“are u even listening?”she scoffs “I-yeah”I reply my tone sounding a lot more unsure than I intended “girl go over there”she grins as she follows my gaze to JJ “No way shut up”I respond with an eye roll.
Somehow throughout the night me and Amy had migrated around the bomb fire with JJ and his group of friends just laughing and talking to each other the alcohol taking slight effect slowly but surely. Me and Jj keep catching each other’s eyes but I ignore it and keep talking to other people surrounding us.
“JJ you just can never admit you’re in the wrong dumbass” Kiara giggles as she sips her drink. “No, she practically tried to fuck me on the fucking sand!”He defends “I mean I wouldn’t have said no to a hot kook” he adds with his signature toothy grin. I feel my cheeks rush in slight jealousy. Amy gives me a look. “JJ you need to get over her” John B. chimes in “Her dad's like a rich kook who owns the whole entire neighbourhood “John b adds deflating JJ's ego.
I get up and go back over to the keg to fill up my cup. Amy jogs over to me “You okay?” she says scanning my face for a signal of how I feel “What? oh yeah, all good” I reply with a small smile “He’s being an ass don’t worry” She says referring to jj talking about that girl “Amy me and JJ have had like two conversations I have no right at all to be jealous and shit “I reply as I run my hand through my hair “so your jealous?” she clocks with a smirk “bitch shut up” I scoff with a grin as we go back over to the group.JJ shouts my name “Hm?”I respond confused as I look at the blonde .
He looks at Kiara then back at me “Your a kook if you were my girl-“He begins clearly trying to prove another point to John B or some shit before he can finish Kiara hits him in the arm “what did I do!”he responds in a defensive tone. I laugh it off as I sip my drink.
Me and Amy end up wondering off from the group I see Kiara talking to JJ.
“JJ she obviously fucking likes you!”Kiara says as she hits JJ arm “Stop fucking hitting me!and no she doesn’t!”he says defending himself“you’re so oblivious”Kiara sighs “You don’t see it because your a guy”she adds “I-cam does not like me your just being weird”he scoffs “fucking talk to her JJ”Kiara adds as she goes off to talk to John B.
Im just stood with Amy as we talk and sip on our drink when I see the blonde slightly stumble over to us “Cam can I talk to you?”JJ speaks as he look between me and Amy . Me and Amy just give each other a look “I-um sure”I reply confused . Amy nods as she walks away back over to the bombfire. “What’s up?”I say confusion still laced in my voice . “Do u like me?shit- I don’t know how do do all this shit-Kiara said you liked me”he says as I runs his hand over his face in embarrassment .
“I-well -“I begin. “I like you and I feel really bad talking about that girl in front of you earlier. Kiara told me and it was a total dick move”he says as he scans my face for a sign of hesitance “wow JJ captain of hookups actually likes a girl?”I grin teasingly.He gives me a look with a grin spread on his face “I like you too Maybank”I laugh “Soo does this mean free shit from the surf shop?”He grins as he throws an arm around me .
Hate the ending of this sooo much. I hope this fits the request enough I tried. Thankyou for the request 💞
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rat-cannibal · 3 months
Note
i have no idea if you write for adam, but here i am
i am the ultimate angst asker, if you're okay with that
adam or lute(ilovewomenbumpersticker) x reader who does in the extermination without them knowing.
- FEED ME A BONE,
carcass
aaaa thank you so much for the request!! i am a fellow lover of women, so I will do Lute at a later date. i wasnt too sure about what you meant by 'does in'. i did give you a sad ending though, so hopefully that makes up for it!
how would adam or lute react to the reader finding out about the exterminations? Part 1
- Adam -
you and adam started dating before he started the exterminations
you're an amazing person - kind, sweet, innocent, everything an angel should be. and also everything Adam isn't.
adam is already so insecure about anything that has to do with hell bc lucifer stole his wives (cue pussy eating hand gesture)
so he doesn't even mention it when he starts thinking about the exterminations
you're suspicious, obviously, because he's going off on so many meetings and is becoming more distant
but you dont say anything because you love adam, and he would never lie to you.. would he?
when adam finally gets his extermination team approved, he's overjoyed
he comes home and immediately kisses the shit out of you
You whine as he pulls away from you, your lips swollen and your face flushed. You try to catch your breath. "Not that I'm complaining, but, uh, what exactly was that about?"
Adam grins widely, squeezing your hands. "What, am I not allowed to kiss my beautiful partner hello?" You sense a hint of deceit in his voice, but choose not to question him about it.
you and adam always sleep in the same bed at nights. you have practically since you started dating.
so when one night he doesn't come home, alarm bells immediately go off in your head
is he cheating on you? maybe he found someone else, someone better
no, you reason, surely he's just held up at work
your suspicions only intensify when he returns the following morning, hair tousled and clothing ruffled
he looks exhausted, like he didn't get any sleep. usually this would indicate a long day at work, but theres a smile on his face that paperwork could never cause
dread grows in your stomach
he greets you happily, like nothing's wrong, and you play along, not wanting to fight with your boyfriend about something that could very well have been a misunderstanding
next year, though, when he disappears again and comes back looking thoroughly satisfied, your suspicions are confirmed.
adam is cheating on you.
you're a very conflict-averse person, so these yearly meetings go on for nearly two decades (time works different in heaven ok just roll with it. 1 year = a month to them basically)
eventually, though, you come home from a hard day of work and Adam isn't there.
that pushes you over the edge. you pack a bag and store it in the closet before going back to your room.
you would look for an apartment in the morning. for now, you just want to sleep.
you wake up and join adam in the kitchen for breakfast. he looks like he always does after these meetings - ruffled, yet satisfied.
"Adam," you say simply, "we need to talk."
"Uh-oh," teases Adam, "am I in trouble?"
"Where were you last night?"
Adam swallows thickly. "What?"
You glare at him. "Where were you last night?"
"I was busy with a work thing - you know how it is, babe, they work me to the bone. It's ridiculous."
"Why do you look so happy, then, so fulfilled?" You sigh. "Look, Adam, I know you're cheating on me. I've known for years now. I guess I just hoped you'd have the balls to admit it."
adam tries to frantically explain that he's not cheating on you, that he's been leading a yearly extermination
he would never cheat on you, he loves you
you demand to know what an extermination is, and he tells you in more detail than you ever would have wanted
you listen in silence as he describes the joy he gets from killing demons - from killing human souls
you retrieve your bag and leave your shared apartment for good
adam begs you to stay, says he'll change, that he'll do anything
but you can't be with a murderer
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reachexceedinggrasp · 1 month
Text
Danny 'I don't do weird' Pink frustrates me as a character, because I'm honestly not sure whether he was supposed to have an arc or not.
His primary role is as a foil for Clara's arc and, in aid of that, as a mirror to the Doctor. A solider with survivor's guilt and a man of action who can't stand by when people need help etc., in some ways he and the Doctor have a lot in common, but he's also a very grounded and circumspect personality versus the Doctor's being fantastical and adventurous. Danny isn't curious and doesn't want to pursue new things or experiences, instead he wants to be fully present with and grateful for what he already has. The Doctor is incorrigibly curious and always interested in new things.
Danny is someone who desires nothing more than an ordinary life, and looks for beauty and satisfaction in the normal things and people around him. He wants his world to be small and quiet, he values the mundane things others might take for granted. He's normal, patient, dependable, simple, honest, etc. His reaction to trauma hasn't been to disavow the things which lead him to that event, or to seek out stimulation to avoid thinking about it, it's to be thoughtful and cautious and somewhat rigid so he can always apply the mindset and skills he retained from before he was traumatised.
He's very firm and unbending in his worldview and in his self-image. He doesn't seem to ever reassess people once he's decided what he thinks of them. He's not unreasonable or unwilling to compromise, he is in fact maybe too reasonable, but he is implastic. He's extremely even-tempered except for around his identity as a soldier, which he's prickly about, but still pretty quick to let it go as long as he's not being deliberately antagonised.
So anyway Danny represents this other path, and this opposite response to the horror of war and making a catastrophic mistake, but he never learns, he never grows and he and Clara are never much on the same wavelength about anything. He's supposed to be stability, the things she 'should' want, the 'person she's supposed to like', the safe choice, the presentable life which Clara feels like she has to have. He's orderly and ordinary and that's what she wants from him. She has to control her image, her future, and her options.
And their simple relationship, once it exists, functions well as the contrast to her complicated and tumultuous relationship with the Doctor while the companion power dynamic is being dismantled and rebuilt so they can be emotional equals. But like, the set up is confusingly executed.
Listen- they have zero chemistry, they have nothing to talk about and have to resort to talking about work, every conversation goes instantly off the rails, they rub each other the wrong way, there is never any reason for them to keep reconciling and trying again to connect. Like. You are not hitting it off! and keep offending each other bc you're not compatible! Quit!!
Clara is forcing it, that makes complete sense with what she's going through, she's trying to take control of her life and her emotions, trying to prove to herself she's not pining for the Doctor and at the mercy of his whims for her life to be full and complete. She doesn't want to need him or to be dependant on him. She doesn't want to be the heartbroken sadsack whom he abandoned at Christmas or who will take whatever scraps he'll throw her. She wants to control his position in her life and control how she feels about him. Hence her assigning him a specific day and confining their adventures on her own terms. She's trying to keep the Doctor compartmentalised. Having an Appropriate Human Relationship means she's successfully put the Doctor in his box (lol) and neutralised the chaotic power of her feelings for him. I mean, obviously not, but that's what she tells herself.
But what is Danny doing? Why does he keep pursuing this when it's so clearly not a good match?
Again in Listen, and much more so The Caretaker, Danny illustrates that he does not know who Clara is, he's wildly wrong about her and what she's like, and he's very high handed about it as well. He's convinced that the Doctor is taking advantage of her, that the Doctor is domineering in their relationship, that she is not a person who wants to be put into challenging or dangerous positions, that the Doctor is pushing her to takes risks and become a leader where that's not her nature. None of this is true. Clara was always a decisive, assertive, strongly driven person who seeks out new experiences and naturally assumes a leadership role any time that's necessary; she relishes being challenged and facing the unknown. Her blow up with the Doctor wasn't about him 'pushing her too far', it was about him failing to support her when she needed him and condescending to her as a human rather than treating her with the intimacy and equity their bond and history together demands. It's personal and it's about their emotional relationship. It's not about making hard choices, it's about having to make hard choices without her partner being honest with and emotionally available to her.
Clara was always an adventurous person, willing to be spontaneous as long as it's on her terms, and excited by the prospect of authority and responsibility. The danger and challenge isn't an unfortunate side effect or a risk she has to take to see amazing sights, it's part of the appeal. She lied to Danny by omission when she said she went off in the box to 'see wonders', not just because the real reason is that she's in love with Doctor, but also because she doesn't just want to be a tourist. She wants to get involved and save people, she wants things to sometimes go pear shaped. She enjoys and craves that part of it too.
Danny is also wildly wrong about the Doctor, but this is understandable and would be fine except that he's never corrected? He never learns better? What's the point?
In Death in Heaven Danny goes out still wrong about the Doctor, still condemning him cruelly and unfairly while knowing nothing about him. He had a point with some of his original rant, there was actual insight there, but it's buried in assumptions and bitterness and then Danny keeps tripling down on the assumption. The one which doesn't understand that the very thing he's shitting on the Doctor for (being willing to lead and make hard choices that must be made in order to save people) is something the Doctor has in common with Clara. And always has. The Doctor didn't change her or push her into that, that's who she's always been.
What is the point of Danny calling him a blood-soaked general and mocking him, calling him an officer as a pejorative again, and again because the Doctor is trying to save the planet. Like, memory check, that's what Danny is mad about. The Doctor doing everything in his power to save literal billions of lives. Doing it for no reason, out of altruism. Doing it while always trying very hard not to fight or kill anyone. Doing it even at enormous spiritual cost to himself.
I don't understand how we're meant to find Danny sympathetic in that moment, because he comes off like a complete dickhead. And it's all the more frustrating because in the intervening episodes Danny has been eminently reasonable. As I've discussed before, we're exhaustively shown that Danny is 100% okay with what Clara claims is going on, that he doesn't want to get in the way of her friendship with the Doctor, that if it really were only the relationship she's pretending it is, there would be no conflict. He's the one who encourages her to make up with him after Kill the Moon! He tells her to go on travelling and it's fine!
Even when he discovers she's been lying to him and cavorting with the Doctor behind his back (again despite him telling her it was fine with him!), he's calm about it and repeats for the millionth time that all he wants from her is honesty. The truth. Which is the one thing she can't give him because Clara knows their entire relationship is built on the lie, they're only together because of the lie. The truth is, as Moffatt said, that Danny never stood a chance. There is a conflict between the two relationships and she's always going to choose the Doctor.
And that does come out, she gives the whole speech to Danny, not knowing it's him, finally being honest. And he seems unsurprised by it, which makes sense because on some level he definitely always knew ('do you love him?' 'no' 'really had enough of the lies'), but then nothing comes of that. Clara just soldiers on, going right back to pretending this relationship wasn't a façade doomed from the start, and Danny allows her to pretend. He goes off on the Doctor, but not in a way the Doctor actually deserves at all, and just sweeps her confession under the carpet. Letting her get away with it again. True to form, I guess! he always did. But shouldn't we make progress?
And it's like... I hate that he dies on that note. It feels like he dies in denial. I guess you could argue it contributes to his decision to not come back, but that feels like a disservice to the character. Saving the kid is important to Danny, it allows him to atone for his greatest mistake, but he didn't need to change or grow to accomplish that and it doesn't provide any closure to his actual role in the narrative, which was as Clara's foil. Clara is off the hook, free to go on lying to herself about their relationship. It's not addressed in Last Christmas, either, it's only barely hinted at.
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maochira · 10 months
Note
the dads coming back home and then smelling something burnt in the kitchen and it’s just the reader’s failed attempt to make dinner bc they wanted their dads to rest. 🐈‍⬛
Do the Blue Lock dads ever get a break from their kid's chaos? 😭
Characters: Ego, Noa, Chris, Lavinho, Snuffy
Requests open! - masterlist - dad!Ego masterlist
Tags: gn!reader, single father!character
The moment Ego walks into the kitchen, you can see the disappointment on his face. "What in the... What did you do now?" He looks at you with a strict expression. "I got hungry," You answer and look at the pan with the burnt food in it, "But I think I left it on there a little too long." - "A little?" Ego points at the pan. "That's literally completely burnt. How did you even manage to do that?" He's getting more and more frustrated each moment and now starts counting all the things that could have gone wrong and how you could have caused a fire if you weren't careful enough. "...I'm sorry," You apologize when your father is done scolding you, "I just didn't want you to have any extra work because of me." Ego is silent for a moment. He's about to scold you more because you still ended up causing extra dishes to clean up, but seeing how sorry you are makes him soften up a little. "It's okay, I'm not mad. Just... disappointed. And worried."
As soon as Noa gets home, he panics because all he smells is smoke and he's afraid a fire has started. He calls for you and soon finds you in the kitchen where you're opening a window and about to throw some burnt food into the trashcan. "Don't tell me you burnt your food again." Noa sighs and looks around the kitchen, only to see the mess you caused there. "Okay, I won't tell you." You laugh nervously, hoping your father isn't mad at what you did. From his facial expression, it's hard to figure out what he's thinking and feeling right now, but you can already imagine that he's disappointed. "Didn't I tell you last week to be more careful?" Noa collects the dirty kitchen utensils laying around and puts them into the sink, "Listen, I'm tired and I-" - "That's why I tried to cook." - "Huh?" Noa turns his gaze back to you. "You do so much already, so I thought... I could make dinner before you get home." Your father's disappointment vanishes quickly and is replaced by a little bit of pride. "That's really nice of you. But you know you don't have to do that, right? I'm your father so even when I'm tired I'll still take care of you."
When Chris enters the house and smells smoke, he goes into panic mode immediately. He's so afraid a small fire started somewhere and he's even more afraid that you might be hurt. He starts calling your name and you can hear the worry in his voice. When Chris finds you in the kitchen and realizes you're fine, he immediately runs up to you and pulls you into a hug. "Oh my... You're fine. Thank god. I was afraid you might have gotten hurt." The worry in his voice is still prominent as his embrace tightens to the point where you can barely breathe. "Dad- I need air-" Chris quickly lets you go and it's only at this moment when you notice the tears in his eyes. He was this worried about you. He doesn't care about the mess you caused in the kitchen and neither does he care about the burnt food on the stove. He really just cares about you being okay. "Don't scare me like that ever again, okay?" Chris looks right into your eyes and tries to sound strict, but he's too much of a soft dad for that.
Lavinho is surprised by the smell in the house, but he quickly figures out it's just caused by you burning food. Usually, Lavinho isn't strict at all, but when he enters the kitchen he has the most serious face you've ever seen on him. "Dad I swear I-" - "What did I tell you about being in the kitchen all on your own?" Lavinho's voice is stern as he walks closer to you. You knew you'd get scolded to some extent, but your father's usual way of doing that still has some sense of lightheartedness and humour. It's so out of character for him to act and sound so strict. And just as you're about to answer again, Lavinho breaks that facade and starts laughing. "Oh come on, did you seriously think I was mad at you?" - "You really seemed like it..." - "I could never be mad at you! Now come here," Your father quickly pulls you into a hug and pats your back. "But I still meant what I said. You're not experienced enough to cook all on your own yet, alright?" - "I know dad, I'm sorry." Lavinho pulls away from the hug and looks at you, this time with an expression that's much more usual for him. "Now let's get this mess cleaned up and then we'll cook something together, alright?"
This isn't the first time you've burnt your food this week, so Snuffy isn't surprised about being met with the smell of something burnt when he returns home. He knows you're probably already cleaning up anyways, so he just calls out for you to let you know he's back home. A few minutes later, he enters the kitchen, where he sees you trying to scrape off burnt bits of food from a pan. "You need some help with that?" Snuffy chuckles and wants to take it out of your hands, but you refuse to let him. "No, it's alright, I'll do it," You insist and continue what you've started, "I don't wanna cause any extra work for you, you know..." A sense of pride fills Snuffy after you say that. "Don't worry about that, it's my job to care for you, you know?" - "Yes, but I still want to do at least something. Also, I caused uh..." You pause for a moment to look around the kitchen, "I caused this mess. I'm cleaning it." Snuffy just stands there for a bit while you continue cleaning the mess you've caused. He wants to help you, but he knows you wouldn't let him. And as he watches you, he gets another idea. "Hey kid, how about we order some food instead of cooking again and causing more dishes to clean?"
Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @gojosorrygeto @luvcalico @truegoist @st4rcheese @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @blueberrryui @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @nikokii @chaosinanutshell @mang05 @astruosie @vanitasbrainrot @toruden @mafuyudonutt @weichspuelertrinker @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser @yellowelectroslime @deerangle3 @yerinsshi
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konigenblobbity · 11 months
Text
Request: First Time
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley , F!Reader
18+ MINORS DNI
Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, Virgin reader, insecure reader, tit kisses, neck kisses, mention of sex
Request: [Anon] Could you please do Ghost with a fem!reader who gets insecure for being a virgin at very big girl age with sagging breasts and how do you think Ghost react. Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?
(I'm in my 19y and I very insecure about my breasts and I still a virgin, so a just wanna a lit of comfort)
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Ghost let his hands caress your waist softly, feeling you melt against him as your lips molded against his own. His kiss was soft, slow, gentle… he was relishing every second, and how perfect it felt. You were straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. Both of you in nothing but your undergarments.
You were both on his bed, the room silent expect for your kisses and the low hums he lets out against your lips. This wasn’t the first time you both got caught up in each other arms, spending most of the evening kissing away all your worries and stress.
This time felt different though… Ghost’s touch was softer, his kisses were slower, more passionate, his hands were more brazen as he slid them to your back to the clip of your bra. That’s when you pull away, your breathing heavy, in sync with his own, and your heart racing. You had a dark blush on your face, brows softly furrowed outwards.
Your whole expression read worry, he stopped his hands instantly, looking into your eyes. “I want to make you feel good darling…” his tone was low, but gentle. Telling you exactly what he wanted, while waiting for your next words of encouragement or rejection. He leaned forward and began to kiss you neck, hoping to make you feel safe in his arms.
“I-I’d like that…” you spoke softly, tilting your head back slightly to give him more space on your neck. He still didn’t dare unclip your bra yet, noticing how your body still felt tense under his arms, how you sat stiff on his lap.
“Then what’s wrong lovie? I can sense your unease” his hands move away from your bra, resting back comfortably on the curve of your waist. He pulls away from your neck, looking back into your eyes. “Do you not want to?” his question was sincere, and genuine… not mocking, or judgmental .
You shake your head, looking down at your lap, fingers fidgeting with loose stands of Ghost’s hair on the back of his neck. “I-I want to. I really do… I’ve just never-“ you cut yourself off, feeling insecurity take over, not even able to admit that you were still a virgin.
He brings a hand up to your face, caressing your cheek and tilting your head so you would look him in the eye. “Darling… are you a virgin?” At the question you look away from his eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up and you freeze as your breathing stops for a second, the secret finally being out in the open. Your reaction was enough of an answer.
He leans forward and you feel him press his lips against yours. Simultaneously caressing your cheekbone with his thumb. You were shocked at first but couldn’t help but kiss back. He then mumbled against your lips “I‘ll be gentle… I’ll take it slow, I promise love” you felt your worries begin to dissipate. “Thank you Ghost…” you say back and feel his smile on his lips.
“I’m a lucky man aren’t I?” He pulls away from your lips and you look at him in slight but visible confusion at his words. He tucks a few stray hairs behind your ear “To be your first… to know you trust me enough to allow me to be your first” his words had a sincerity and gratefulness you didn’t expect. As if even holding you was an honor bestowed upon him.
You were listening intently, eyes glazed over with fascination. You’d spent so much time worrying over the day Ghost finds out you’re a virgin, spent so many nights in his arms, mind racing with worry after once again denying him - not that he was ever rude about it or judgmental, he simply nodded and dropped the subject, content with simply holding you.
Now here you were… your secret having been revealed, and you felt nothing but comfort, nothing but warmth, nothing but adoration. You smile down at him, locking eyes with him as you feel his hands move back to your waist. He lifts you off his lap and places you on the bed in front of him.
As he goes to lie you down on the bed, his hands reach to your back, unclipping your bra but not yet taking it off. He lies you down slowly, positioning himself between your legs, leaning over you. He then grabs the straps of your bra, slowly pulling it off your body.
Once it’s off , you immediately wrap your arms around your chest self-consciously. He places his hands on your waist again, softly caressing it as he leans down to kiss you again. You kiss back, letting your eyes flutter shut, melting against the bed.
His hands began to slide up your sides, when they reach your chest he softly grabs your wrists, beginning to pull your arms away. When he feels you resist, he stops but keeps his hands on your wrists. He pulls away, looking down at you, at his gaze you shake your head meekly, as if you know what he was thinking.
He moves his hands off your wrists and up your forearm to your shoulder, softly rubbing up and down. “It’s okay love… lemme see ‘em, I bet they’re beautiful” your lips formed a tight line, pursing them, you lie there unmoving for a few moments, before slowly moving your arms out of the way, and to your sides.
When you finally did, Ghost’s eyes moved down your body, taking in the sight of your bare chest. Once you see his eyes move away from yours, your turn your head to the side, too embarrassed to look at him. Your face turning red and you can’t help how you feel your eyes well up slightly.
You never let Ghost see your breasts before, too insecure about them, too nervous for what he’d think. You always thought they weren’t as they were supposed to be, sagging down instead of standing perky like those of most girls your age.
You gasp, and grip the bedsheets as you feel his hands begin to grope and massage at your breasts. You feel a tremble go through you at the feeling, finally gaining the courage to turn your head back to face him. Your eyes locked with his, unable to calm your shaky breaths.
Your eyes follow him as he leans forward, starting to place kisses on your neck. Those kisses lead down your sternum, finally moving to kiss atop your left breast. It had you humming softly but biting your lip at the same time. He was being so gentle, it was as if he thought you were made of glass, trying to be careful not to break you.
When you let out a particularly shaky breath, he pauses, speaking softly “Do you want me to stop?” You just shake your head, “N-no” You don’t… you really don’t. It felt good, but you couldn’t help but feel shy, being new to all of this, not even sure whether this was supposed to feel as good as it does… because my god it felt good.
He moved to your right breast, placing one kiss before speaking “Good. Now, just relax lovie…” he continued to kiss at your breasts. You couldn’t help but relax as you felt the fabric of his balaclava caress your skin as he moves his lips to make sure he kisses everywhere.
“Let me take care of you…” He was giving every part of you the love and attention he knew you deserved. “So beautiful…” he had you melting under his touch, and after discovering your new insecurity, he planned on showing you just how much he adored that part of you.
That night he worshipped you as if you were an angel, blessing him with your presence. Afterwards he showered you in kisses and praise, making sure to alleviate you of any pain or soreness in your muscles.
You felt him curl up against you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest. Before you fell asleep, you felt his hands move up your body, you smiled as he cupped your breasts gently in his palms, tracing his thumb up and down your skin.
Ever since then he’d use every opportunity he could to massage and caress your breasts, even if it wasn’t in a sensual way. Loving to help you fight away your insecurities, complimenting them when you wore a particularly flattering shirt or dress.
“I adore every part of you, no matter what you might think, or if you want to hide. I can’t help but be left speechless every time I see you love”
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tiredofthehumanlife · 3 months
Text
As a person who splashes around in both Slytherin boys fandom and maurders fandom I feel as though I can speak on the regulus situation
No.
Listen to me please okay let's talk about it really. Maybe this is just me but I feel like the Slytherin boys fandom is usually more hetero. That's fine that's so fine that's amazing do not get me wrong that's lovely. Yk Theo and fem reader can fuck as much as they want to but Regulus is gay man. I KNOW OKAY I KNOW CRAZY TAKE. but he is. The maurders fandom is more queer. And I'm not ashamed to say that bc it is it's based on two men and everyone was like "yeah they fuck but what if their friends were also gay?" So I'm just saying like basically every character is some kind of queer and that's what makes it beautiful bc A nothing is real we can do basically whatever the fuck we want any one can be anything these bitches are like Barbies B almost everyone has at least a little bit of representation.
Slytherin boys cannot say as much. I love them deeply but like I think I've seen like max five writers who do male reader and those skanks. You can do whatever you want but you don't truly understand who regulus is if you couldn't even tell me his boyfriend's favorite pair of shoes is. And while it is lovely to see more Regulus content it just screams "I saw a hot man so he's mine now let's make him date fem reader" when that's not who he is that man is deeply scarred he needs his fucking boyfriend bro put him back
It's like when I played barbie dolls with my little brother and he dragged in Lego men like that doesn't go here.
And also the timeline makes no sense bc how is he supposed to dick around in the same time as Harry and then go back in time and kill himself IT DOESN'T CHECKOUT guys just leave him be yk like he can stay over there in the maurders era. He is there for his pan boyfriend who would be down to add a third.
In conclusion, Slytherin boys I love you guys so much fr I love the characters and everything but Regulus stays with the maurders era and that's end of story.
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misc-obeyme · 9 days
Note
I'M ALIVE (BARELY) !! Work is kicking my ass. Also, lots of things went wrong for me this morning, but they all worked out in the end ?? Like I forgot to set my alarm, had to bring my mom's phone to her job bc she forgot it, my bus ended up running late because the doors would get stuck at stops. But I woke up on time, caught the bus after taking the phone, and made it early to work because the bus forgot to take the detour? My luck is insane (thanks Mammon.)
ANYWAY, i can no longer contain my thoughts about Mammon x Solomon x Mc. I'm just imagining my mc and Solomon who are both very curious, and love messing around with potions at purgatory hall, and finding alternatives to rare ingredients. This has definitely gone wrong a bunch of times (most days without a potion incident: 4)
and I'm imagining Mammon tagging along bc he misses mc and is jealous that Sol is taking up their time, but denies all claims - "I'm assigned to protect ya, ain't I?" "From Solomon?" "W-Well, he's a shady sorcerer!"
He sits on the floor by mc's feet, and will fetch them things because he can't say no to them. But he spends so much time listening to them brainstorm, he starts learning and will chime in randomly. Mc and Sol who are stuck on what to add, Mammon drops something in there, and they're both horrified until they realize the potion is perfect now. He just has a little database in his mind of what to add to something, and rare ingredients that the two wish they could get their hands on.
Thinking about Mammon doing a favor for a witch and she tells him to pick anything in her collection since she's low on money. He was about to be angry when he saw an ingredient that they've both been complaining is rare and hard to find. He asks the witch for that and then brings it to the two. He acts all nonchalant about it, trying to brush it off. Mc tackles him, meanwhile Solomon is in awe and staring with a twinkle in his eye.
Now Mammon starts requesting trades with witches, for a lower portion of grimm. Gets ingredients he knows they dream about, because the way mc and sol will get all giddy after he presents them with his earnings makes his stomach flip (he will never admit this)
"This is missing something" Solomon
"Yeah but I can't figure out what" MC
"Have you tried *insert seemingly common ingredient that doesn't work for most things*" Mammon
"But no one uses that, it's why we're always stuck with it" MC
"Couldn't hurt to try. See, watch." Mammon.
"WAIT, MAMMON DON'T- ... IT WORKED!?" Mc/Sol
----
"MAMMON HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET THIS, IT ONLY BLOOMS ONCE EVERY 100 YEARS" mc
"Dunno, got it from a random witch. Said she didn't need it. *spent two hours haggling with said witch*"
"...am I in love?" Solomon, reevaluating life
"Eh? What are ya mumbling about? If you're gonna thank me, I want it loud and clear!"
my crack ship <3 they mean everything to me. I caved and hunted down the plushies of them on ebay too. ALSO I GOT TWO OF MY COMMISSIONS BACK AND I'M 😭 they're perfect !!! I'm so so happy with them. Literally the lock screen is beautiful bc it's me and mammon cuddling (HIS MUSCLES CC!! IM DYING) and it looks like it was taken by like asmo or something who walked in to wake us up.
i think I'm also a hopeless romantic, I'm just scared of confronting my feelings lol (you're right in that it is worth it, I just need to figure out how to be brave </3). I throw myself into romance books and fanfics. Vaguely related, thinking about coffee shop au with barista!Mammon and college student!Solomon.
OKAY SORRY IM DONE RAMBLING 😭 HAVE A GOOD DAYYYY
- ✨ anon
Wow that does sound like a crazy morning!! I'm glad it all worked out, though~ Mammon is totally watching out for you!
OKAY but all of that sounds exactly like Mammon! I mean, he's super smart, he just doesn't usually bother to apply himself to anything. So it totally makes sense that he'd just pick up things because he's spending time with MC and Solomon. And then of course he's gonna end up seeing rare ingredients and being like, okay yeah I'm taking that. That all sounds absolutely adorable~
I'm curious about whether or not Solomon and Mammon would make a pact in this situation? I mean, if it's both of them and your MC that are in the relationship, do you think they would? Do you think Solomon would move past his obsession with getting a pact with Lucifer and end up in one with Mammon instead?
I always felt like Solomon doesn't really get Mammon, you know? But that doesn't mean he can't learn. And oh man, Solomon is such a tease and Mammon is so not good at being teased lol. That idea is giving me so many entertaining images, I can't even handle it.
Anyway, I'm totally here for it! It sounds really cute~
I'm so glad you're happy with your comms!!! They sound amazing!
And don't worry, you'll figure it out. I don't know how old you are, but I suspect you have plenty of time! It's a balancing act, you know? It's important to be honest with yourself about your feelings without letting them control you. But it's easier to decide what to do about them if you know what they are. Anyway, not to get all philosophical over here lol. I think the key is to find someone you want to be brave for, you know?
AUGH I love coffee shop aus sooooooo much!!! I was very obsessed with the idea of barista!Mammon for a while, mostly because of a daily chat where he was working at a cafe and then got into a fight with customer. He's good at finances, so I think he could be pretty business minded if he wanted to be. So I was thinking about a situation where he owns his own cafe, but when the customers get rude with one of his fellow baristas, he gets into a fight with them lol. I hadn't really considered who that other barista was, but it could be MC.
Anyway, I could ramble about coffee shop aus all day because I love them aklsdlkfjdfjkl
I hope you have a lovely day/night, too!!
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