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#like why would I when I can think about this instead
hon3y-y · 2 days
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NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤
cw: noncon filming!
pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3
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omfg he would be soooo pissed💀
picture this;
The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 
Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 
He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.
“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”
“Why are you still here?”
Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 
Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 
At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 
You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.
You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).
You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 
He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 
Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.
You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 
Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 
One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?
He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 
Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.
You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.
he’s sooo down bad://
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elodieunderglass · 20 hours
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This morning Dr Glass decided to offer me the opportunity to enjoy some psychic damage and harm. “Are you ready for something that will hurt you a lot?” He asked, linking me to an article in The Telegraph, a right-wing UK newspaper, advertising some content published by an even-more-right-wing think tank.
The Telegraph headline is trying to make it sound like a proper research “report” but it’s just an ad for this guy’s book.
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While it’s interesting to remember & reflect on the fact that the transatlantic slave trade enriched individuals, while the majority of British citizens were forced to pay for the military that enforced the colonial violence that protected that wealth, it isn’t exactly a “gotcha” that somehow undoes the logic of reparation. The intended audience just skims headlines and then gets mad, so the rest of the writing is really just a prop to justify the headline.
However, as Dr Glass knew it would, the sheep farming thing took me out at the knees.
Wandering about with a blank stare wondering if British sheep farming - sheep farming! Shaped the ecosystem of a nation! Sheep! Roman Britain! Chalk downland ecosystems! Queen Elizabeth’s mint sauce! The Highland Clearances! Textiles! Industrial Revolution what! help!!! - is something the guy, like. hasn’t heard about. like he just somehow coasted his way into a paid job doing british economic history never hearing about sheep farming, so it can sort of be waved away. “Why get so upset about slavery when it was only as impactful in British economic history as sheep farming, which we NEVER hear about” is such a deranged take that I hang myself up on it like a cartoon character stuck on a tree while falling off a cliff.
. Like I get that this is disingenuous but that deranged little broken part of me, as Dr Glass predicted, is practically frantic wondering if the guy somehow just had Sheep Blindness Syndrome, like he mentally overwrites all instances of encountered sheep as, like, mushrooms or something. I keep explaining to my mind that he is just using cheap&nasty rhetoric with no intention of standing up to scrutiny, but I am also the innocent and passionate child grabbing myself by the collar going ELODIE HOW DID HE MISS THE SHEEP? IS HE OKAY?
Anyway, spreading out the damage amongst you all instead so I can focus on my day .
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lxnarphase · 3 days
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions
“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”
✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.
“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.
“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.
“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."
✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?
“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”
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formula-nyoom · 1 day
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Grid Graduation
Platonic!Grid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Being a racecar driver and actively pursuing a higher education is a feat in and of itself. You didn't let your career get in the way of going to college. But when racing seems to prevent you from attending your graduation ceremony, your fellow drivers decide to take matters into their own hands
A/N: Congratulations to all the people that are graduating this month or next month! I hope you guys have amazing celebrations. And to my fellow college students who still have a year or years left to go, we’re going to get through it, even if it seems like hell. I know that the color of the graduation gowns can vary by college or are usually black but I went with dark blue because that was the color of my gown when I got my associates degree. 
~~~
Some people would say it's stupid to try and get a bachelor’s degree while being a race car driver. 
“You already have a career. Why would you spend all your free time off track pursuing something you don’t really need?” is the question that was constantly asked to you during interviews. Your answer: because it was important to you. It’s common knowledge that karting and racing takes up most of a driver’s life. And while most drivers are able to pursue basic schooling and education during their karting days and early single seater days, once a driver makes it higher up the racing ladder, pursuing an education becomes second to trying to be the best race car driver on track. 
You on the other hand felt that your pursuit of racing should not get in the way of your education. And thankfully with the ability to take online classes, you didn’t have that worry. 
“You’ve refreshed that page five times in the last 30 seconds.” Alex said as you two sat in the drivers lounge. It was media day so thankfully neither of you had to worry about racing and instead your worry was focused on something else.
 “Can you blame me? I’m supposed to get sent an email that tells me whether or not I graduate today and I’m dying to know.” You said, refreshing the page again. You had finally completed all the required courses you needed to graduate and get your bachelors degree. Now you were just waiting for the confirmation that all the hard work, all the study sessions you had done between and after races, and all the all nighters was worth it. 
 “Have you gotten the email yet?” You looked up from your laptop to see Logan approaching with Oscar behind him. You refreshed the page again.
 “Nope. Still nothing.” You let out a frustrated sigh. All the other drivers knew about your pursuit of a college education while also being a race car driver. They had been nothing but supportive in your efforts and could tell how worried you were about having to wait for your college’s final decision on you graduating.
 “The email will come eventually. Staring at the screen isn’t going to help.” Oscar said. 
“I suppose you’re right.” You said, refreshing the page again. You were about to close your laptop, putting the matter temporarily to rest, when the page loaded and showed you had a new email. It was from your college.
 “It’s here!” You exclaimed. You were about to open the email when you paused your finger over the mouse pad.
“I don’t think I can open this. What if they deny me? Or what if this email tells me that I still have some courses that I need to pass to graduate?” You started nervously chewing on your bottom lip as worst case scenarios started to run through your head. Logan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder
 “(Y/N), you’ve been working your ass off the past couple years to get this degree. They’d be stupid to not let you graduate.” Logan said. 
 “I can read the email for you first if you want.” Alex offered. That seemed to calm your nerves. You handed Alex the laptop and waited with bated breath as he opened the email. Anticipation started to build as it seemed to take forever for Alex to read the first line of the email
“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate!” Alex exclaimed.
 “Really?” You grabbed the laptop and read the first line of the email that did indeed confirm that you were graduating. Logan and Oscar started to shake your shoulders in excitement as you started to laugh from happiness.
 “I’m graduating!” You exclaimed. Logan, Alex and Oscar let out cheers of excitement as you read the first lines of the email again.
“What’s with the excitement?” Charles asked as he and Max entered the driver’s lounge.
 “(Y/N) got the confirmation that she’s graduating college.” Alex said.
“Congratulations!”Max said. He ruffled your hair while Charles gave you a hug. You were practically beaming with happiness as you started to read the email out loud. 
“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate! We commend you for this amazing accomplishment and we’d like you to attend the graduation ceremony on….June 7th.” Your voice trailed off after reading the date and your smile slowly started to drop.
 “Are you gonna go?” Oscar asked. You shook your head.
“I can’t. We’ll all be in Canada for Free Practice.” You said. It was true. Your college’s graduation ceremony was the same week of the Canadian Grand Prix.
 “Do you think your team will let you go?” Alex asked. “I mean, you’ve done Canada multiple times and you’ll do it again. But you only really graduate college once, especially considering you're a race car driver.”
 “I don’t think (Y/N)’s team will let her go. Free Practice isn’t something you can really miss.” Max said. He was right. Attending a graduation ceremony seemed like a trivial matter compared to your career. 
 “But (Y/N)’s worked so hard for this. Surely her team will understand.” Logan said.
“No, it’s…it’s ok if I miss the graduation ceremony. I’ve been given confirmation that I’m graduating and will get my diploma in the mail later this year. That’s enough for me.” You told them. But that wasn’t really true. You would have liked to attend the ceremony. If not for just the celebration but also for the sense of normalcy away from the racetrack and responsibilities of being a Formula One driver. 
 “Well we can still celebrate right? Maybe get all the drivers together for a dinner?” Charles suggested. You smiled a bit.
 “Yea Charles. A dinner would be nice. This is still a cause for a celebration. Even if I can’t go to the official one.”
Dinner with the other drivers was a nice celebration. It helped you forget about not being able to attend the graduation ceremony for a while. But the week of the Canadian Grand Prix seemed to bring up that fact again. It seemed the media wanted to remind you too.
 “Well, before we start taking questions, I’d like to say congratulations to you, (Y/N). It was recently let known that you’ve graduated college and now have a bachelor's degree.” The media commentator for the drivers press conference said to you as you sat on a couch next to George, Lando, Lewis, and Zhou. 
“Thank you. If I didn't have to be here in Canada, I'd actually be attending the graduation ceremony, which is happening tomorrow. But racing takes priority.” You smiled to hide some of your disappointment, but the other drivers seemed to notice.
 “I’m sure you and your family are proud of all your efforts. Maybe some of the drivers too?” The interviewer said, motioning to the drivers next to you.
“I’m insanely proud of (Y/N) for what she’s accomplished. She’s shown that racing shouldn’t get in the way of pursuing an education.” Lewis said.
 “I will say, (Y/N) has worked harder than anyone else on the grid.” Zhou said. 
“She won’t admit it herself though.” George said, nudging your side. You shook your head.
“In terms of something like this, even if I can’t attend a graduation ceremony, I’m proud of all the work I’ve done.” You said.
 “Well, I hope you celebrate or have already celebrated what is an immense accomplishment.” The interviewer said.
 “Me and the other drivers on the grid actually went out to dinner to celebrate the day I found out I was graduating to make up for the fact that I can’t attend the ceremony. It was a really nice dinner and I’m glad I have friends to celebrate my accomplishments with.” You smiled at your friends sitting next to you. They smiled back, but for a different reason. 
Despite your efforts to hide your disappointment, your fellow drivers could tell how upset you were about not being able to attend your graduation ceremony. And while the dinner was indeed nice, they wanted you to have a proper celebration for such an immense accomplishment.
That’s how George and Lando ended up knocking on your driver’s room door after interviews and media responsibilities were done for the day.
 “Hey guys. What’s up?” You asked as you opened the door for them.
“Put this on.” Lando handed you a bag with what you assumed had to contain clothing.
 “Why? What is it that you have handed me?” You gave him a skeptical look.
“Open the bag and find out.” Lando said. You did as he instructed and pulled out something made of dark blue fabric. At first you thought it was a dress, but unfurling it revealed to be a graduation gown. You tried not to frown. The only need for something like this would be for graduation photos, which you had already taken. But Lando and George were insistent and you decided to amuse their idea for now and put it on.
“Now what? You want me to get into a race car and drive around the track in a graduation gown?” George and Lando just laughed.
 “I don’t think the FIA will allow that. At least not in just the gown.” Lando said.
“Of course you can’t have the gown without the cap.”  George handed you a graduation cap with a tassel in your team color. The cap was decorated with a little race car on top that had a diploma trailing behind it. 
 “What’s…what’s all this for?” You asked, while putting the cap on. You don’t know why you decided to put the cap on, but did so anyway.
“It’s for your graduation ceremony of course.” Lando said. You frowned.
 “There’s no way I can attend that ceremony.” You said.
“We’re not talking about your college’s graduation ceremony. We’re talking about the one that’s happening right now.” George said. “Come on.”
George and Lando ushered you out of your driver’s room and started to lead you somewhere. You still looked at them with confusion. 
 “We already celebrated during that dinner.”
“But it wasn’t a proper ceremony.” Lando said, leading you towards the track entrance. By now, you were starting to suspect what George and Lando were up to. It wasn’t confirmed until they led you to the start line.
“You guys did not….” Rows and rows of chairs were set up on the track with a makeshift aisle in the middle. Each chair was filled with one of your fellow drivers or members of your team. Tears started to well up in your eyes at the realization of what was happening. 
 “We wanted you to have a proper graduation ceremony.” Lando said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a side hug. Now you were trying really hard not to cry.
 “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting for you.” George said. He and Lando walked you past all chairs, the drivers and team members applauding you as you walked past. 
Lewis and Fernando were standing at what was designated the stage and greeted you with a hug and a whispered “congratulations” as you approached. 
 “Shall we get started then?” Lewis, who had been designated the commencement speaker, said to get everyone’s attention. Everyone quieted down and took a seat
“We are gathered here to recognize the immense accomplishments of (Y/N) (L/N) in her pursuit of a higher education in the form of a bachelor's degree. Not only has she strived for what many have wanted to achieve, but did so while also managing the life of a Formula One driver. That is something not many can do.” Lewis said.
 “I now ask for Fernando to present the graduate with their diploma.” Fernando walked over to you and handed you a piece of paper, then the two of you shook hands as formality of a traditional graduation ceremony while George quickly snapped a photo. You looked at the “diploma” that was handed to you and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was a diploma template that you could find on the internet that included your name and the name of your college. Though the official seal had your team logo on it. 
“I now ask the graduate of 2024, to move your tassel from right to left and signify your newfound graduation status.” Lewis said. By now, it was getting really hard to try and keep the tears in as you moved the tassel from right to left. Lewis smiled.
 “It is my pleasure to present (Y/N) (L/N) as the grid’s graduating class of 2024.” Everyone stood up and applauded you. At this point you couldn’t keep the tears in any longer and started to cry but also cheer. Lewis pulled you into a hug, followed by Fernando, then Lando and George and it got to the point of just being a big group hug full of drivers.
 “Go on, toss the cap!” Logan exclaimed once the group hug broke away. Chants of “Toss it! Toss it!” started to echo till you took the graduation cap off and tossed it into the air, signifying that all that hard work was worth it.
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mo-aiki · 2 days
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I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)
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Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.
Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.
Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.
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The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.
His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.
Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.
Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.
His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.
Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.
When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.
(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.
(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.
'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.
Wait. Why is he thinking about her?
He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.
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He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.
"Ah?! Your Grace!"
The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"
He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."
The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."
He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.
"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.
Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."
He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.
Why did it look like you were looking for something?
More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?
You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.
He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.
Wait, why was he thinking this?
Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.
But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.
He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.
But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.
Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.
Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.
You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.
Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."
"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.
You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.
'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.
"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."
You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"
You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.
But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."
You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.
He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.
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You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.
At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.
Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.
Outings with no small talk.
Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.
"It seems like they will break up soon..."
"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."
"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"
"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."
"Really?!"
These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.
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He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.
He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).
Dear Duke Caius,
I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.
I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.
When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.
You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.
I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.
Sincerely,
Marquis (l/n)
The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.
He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."
He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.
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You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.
A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.
He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.
His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.
His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.
He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.
He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."
"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"
He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."
Elliot was boring.
Gregory was pretentious.
Adonis was suspicious.
Adrian was paranoid.
But Arthur, was a gentleman.
Until you never heard back from him one day.
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He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.
Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.
Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.
The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.
All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.
A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.
A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.
Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.
A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.
A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.
The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."
All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.
He is skeptical and less naive.
He is responsible.
He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.
He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.
He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.
He came to the eventual conclusion.
No man could replace him.
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You felt trapped.
A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.
He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"
You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."
His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."
Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'
You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.
Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.
"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."
He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"
He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.
"You have finally called my name..."
You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"
"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"
He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"
His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."
Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"
This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.
But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.
He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.
"But! But!"
"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"
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Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.
Following you everywhere.
Bringing you onto his lap while he works.
Having picnics with you.
Having tea with you.
Being your dance partner for practicing.
Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.
Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.
Increasing security around you.
Feeding you himself, personally.
Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.
And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.
He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.
You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.
So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.
You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."
There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."
All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.
Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.
Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.
Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.
Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.
And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.
Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.
Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.
You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?
Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?
Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?
Adonis was already kinda shitty.
Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?
Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?
You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.
Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.
And it felt like it was all your fault.
"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."
Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.
"Why is my bride crying?"
Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.
He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"
You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"
He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."
He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"
You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."
"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."
His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"
You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"
"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.
"Who?"
"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.
"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"
You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.
"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."
He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."
Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"
You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."
You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."
You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"
He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..." He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.
"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."
You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.
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"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.
You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.
Walking down the aisle with your father.
The flower petals dancing around you.
The songbirds singing their songs.
And your once dream husband at the alter.
"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?
"...I do..."
The final words of your previous life.
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A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?
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What’s your favorite part about working on the comic? Specifically the comic; like drawing it, coloring, writing scripts, etc
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Oh, that's an interesting question! Let's rate them!
Sketching/Drawing: (9/10) Creating at its finest. For me, this is the distilled elixir of creation. The heart of being a comic artist. I love organizing panels on a page, it's like playing tetris. I love drawing! Points off for requiring so much time. Why can't I just bang my head against a tablet and dump out all the pictures onto the screen at once?
Scripting: (6/10) Pretty standard work. I enjoy it well enough, but it gets points taken off for requiring so much re-writing and emotional turmoil. Sometimes, I will rework a line 3-4 times and think it works great, but inevitably something will come along to make me think it would have been better to have the character say that OTHER thing instead.
Lineart: (11/10) Excellent. Stupendous. This is drawing, if drawing required no braincells. It's meditation! I'm listening to a 2 hour long video essay about evolution or manta rays or ancient trees. I'm happy, I'm in my lane, I'm flourishing. (This would have been 12/10 except for those times when you're drawing the same line 17 times and are stuck in a ctrl+z loop.)
Coloring: (-2/10) Don't like it. Cannot recommend it. People tell me they like this part? I'm skeptical. It's tedious. It's boring. It's like one of those baby games where you put cubes into a square hole, etc, but sometimes the cubes the misshapen and don't go in smoothly. At best it's just 10 minutes of clicking with a bucket tool. At worst, it's coloring within the lines, which I have been OVER since I was 4.
Rendering values, special effects: (5/10) This is fine. It's simply fine. I can enjoy it. It's interesting, but a bit repetitive, but it takes less effort than coloring, with more variety, so I respect it.
Posting: (4/10) This is a trap. There IS a typo, and you WILL see it as soon as you click Post. Or as soon as the post hits 100 notes. Whichever one is more painful. But on the other hand... commints! But on the other-other hand... people misunderstanding your characters' intentions and being a whole clown in the comments about it! It's a mixed bag.
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Does Izuku Think His Feelings For Katsuki Are Gross? (or, DvK2's Endless Emporium of Nuance)
This is a pretty common sentiment I see repeated, and we all know the source of it: Deku vs. Kacchan 2.
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Original Japanese and official English translation.
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Crunchyroll subtitles
In one translation, Izuku expresses discomfort over this topic; in the other, he outright declares it to be gross.
That is quite the difference. I gotta say, Crunchyroll’s direct “This is gross” kind of shocks me, because it functionally ignores the key adverb “sasuga ni” and translates the line the same as you would if he hadn’t said it at all. The official manga translator, on the other hand, clearly made a decision about what Izuku meant by that phrase and then dispersed that meaning across the line as a whole.
So I understand why people have this straight-forward interpretation.
I’m here to offer some linguistic nuance, because my main problem with “Izuku thinks his feelings are gross” is not that it is completely wrong. It’s that it isn’t the whole story.
There are two really important phrases to take into account: kimi ni wa ienai and sasuga ni.
To illustrate their meaning, let’s split the line into two sections:
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Note: Grammatically, kara belongs in the first section. I’m lumping it into the second section for the sake of isolating the core ideas expressed in the first section and maintaining clarity in the second.
Now we’re going to break the sections down into their constituent parts. This looks like a verbatim nightmare of a translation, because it is, but trust me, it’s a useful exercise.
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Kara links the two sections by showing that the first section directly causes the second. Something worth noting is that Izuku does not use past tense here—he uses present tense and indicates a continuous, unchanged state. He has not been able to before and still cannot tell this to Katsuki. I would argue this also suggests he thinks the circumstances will not change for the foreseeable future.
Important Phrase #1: kimi ni wa ienai
Ienai is the negative potential form of “to say,” which means it is not possible for him to say it. Iwanai, on the other hand, is the negative present tense, and if he had used iwanai instead, that might suggest that he has some choice in the matter. Examples in English might be, “That’s why I don’t tell you this,” “That’s why I’m not telling you this,” and “That’s why I haven’t told you this,” which all express intentional withholding despite opportunity. To use a form that specifically denies the possibility serves to center limitation, regardless of desire.
The combination of the two particles ni and wa are used to emphasize, compare, and contrast. This is extremely telling just on its own. Izuku is emphasizing the fact that, compared to everyone he could possibly tell, he cannot tell Katsuki this. He might be able to tell other people, but when it comes to Katsuki, he cannot. Ienai does not specify where the limitation stems from, but ni wa sure implies it.
Now let’s dig into the phrase that does the most heavy-lifting in the first section.
Important Phrase #2: sasuga ni
Sasuga ni is the adverb Izuku attaches to the adjective kimochi warui (gross or creepy). It is typically translated “as expected” because this kind of adverb sounds awkward in English. “This is expectedly gross” is not a sentence people say much. You might also see it translated “as I thought,” “naturally,” “obviously,” or “indeed.”
And there is something interesting here: Izuku uses a second word that means “as expected” on this page.
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Yappari, which can also be translated as “in the end,” “sure enough,” or “after all is said and done.”
I researched the nuances of these two phrases, synthesizing definitions and examples from four different Japanese dictionaries/encyclopedias and two forum boards for language tutoring from native speakers. My conclusions as related to their usage here:
Yappari indicates:
an outcome that was expected (example: “I tried, but sure enough, I failed.”)
something that remains unchanged [in the state it was previously or in other circumstances]
a situation where, no matter how you think about it, you end up with the same result (example: “I was really torn over it, but in the end I gave up on going.”)
Sasuga ni indicates:
[you, the speaker] must acknowledge that this is the natural result of the situation up to this point (example: “they grew up in a big family, so naturally they are good with kids.”)
something exceeds the permissible range, or that it may be permissible under certain conditions, but not others (example: “no matter how nice a guy he is, if he was accused of something unfairly, he’s bound to get angry.”)
You can see the meanings overlap, but the sentiments are a bit different. I saw someone learning Japanese say that every time they used one of these phrases, native speakers told them they should have used the other one instead. Another learner responded that, from their observations, the distinction appeared to be that yappari is used when the speaker had personally thought about and expected this outcome, while sasuga ni suggests that everyone would agree with this statement.
I’m not sure this is true across the board; usage always varies, even among native speakers, so generalizations are only useful up to a point, but I have to admit, a bunch of little things I noticed in my research do support this line of thinking.
If yappari tends to be more reflective of the speaker’s personal thoughts and expectations, sasuga ni’s “acknowledgment of a natural result” could indeed imply external validation. This is true of the equivalent English words, at least: naturally and obviously both suggest that any reasonable person would accept it as fact.
In fact, permissible as an idea kind of hinges on social norms—what is reasonable for someone to put up with? What behaviors sit within the realms of welcome, allowable, or excusable based on your relationship?
In my opinion, Izuku feels like he cannot say this to Katsuki because it exceeds the bounds of what is permissible between them. If sasuga ni implies Izuku feels sure that anyone would agree with his assessment, Katsuki is absolutely included in that.
Izuku is not saying, “I alone think this is gross, so I can’t tell you.”
He is saying, “Considering everything that has happened between us up till now, you would obviously see this as gross, so I can’t tell you.” Its grossness is a natural result of the situation—their history, the way their relationship fell apart, the way Katsuki lashes out, how he can barely stand Izuku’s presence, let alone his emotional honesty.
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Chapter 10, during Deku vs. Kacchan 1
But remember that this sentence is a fragment: the subject of Izuku’s sentence is revealed in the second half, and it is the fact that he runs his mouth when he wants to win more than he wants to save.
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This is what is gross. Izuku acknowledges that the behavior itself is unpleasant, and that any reasonable person would agree with that. His whole identity as a hero is based on saving people, so he feels some real discomfort when he has to recognize that sometimes he just wants to win. In fact, he can want victory so much that it supersedes his desire to help people.
Izuku has intentionally emulated Katsuki’s practical tactics, but this is about instinctive response. He wasn’t standing there facing Muscular, thinking the winning move was definitely to scream, “shut up.” He was furious, so he wanted to win and make that guy shut up.
When the scale tips, he acts out. He talks shit. He screams at people and insults them, because that’s what Katsuki does. These are all unacceptable behaviors, socially-speaking. Katsuki constantly and intentionally acts the exact opposite of how he should to qualify as a Good Japanese Boy. Izuku, on the other hand, plays the part faithfully, at least until it demands he betray his core values.
Deku vs. Kacchan 2 showcases how neither Izuku nor Katsuki had fully accepted the heroism of their counterpart. Katsuki is uncomfortable with Izuku’s innate capacity to help others, to see their need and meet it without question. Izuku is uncomfortable with craving victory, with that indomitable drive to seek glory. They each admired All Might for the value they themselves embody, and they admired each other for the value they lacked, but that doesn’t mean their admiration was uncomplicated.
Katsuki is a loud-mouthed, aggressive jerk, but Izuku ends up acting just like him. He clearly feels conflicted about it. He’s annoyed and hurt that Katsuki pushed him away by being such a jerk in the first place. And, from his perspective, he fails every time he tries to wrangle their relationship into something less miserable. He might even be embarrassed over the simple fact that he has held on to these deep-seated emotions for years over someone who wants nothing to do with him. He wishes things were different. He doesn’t know how they could be, anymore. He wants to connect, but he can’t.
Izuku frames his inability to express this specific thought as natural and reasonable. Obviously, there’s no way I could do this. And honestly, he is probably right. After all, this is a very intimate, revealing thing to tell someone who seems to hate your guts and has for years.
At any other point in the story, Katsuki probably would have curled his lip in disgust and barked out Izuku’s exact words, “Gross.”
But in DvK2, Katsuki bears his heart to Izuku without restraint.
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Katsuki confesses something painful and private to Izuku twice, at two separate moments.
Izuku has two confessions, too. Here's the first:
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But the second he admits only to himself and the audience.
Maybe if Izuku had said his “image of victory” monologue out loud, Katsuki could have had his own moment of understanding:
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Izuku’s reaction after Katsuki’s second confession.
Maybe Katsuki wasn’t ready to hear it, or maybe Izuku was too chicken to believe he was ready. Either way, he needed to voice both confessions, and he didn’t.
So the narrative punishes Izuku for failing to push past his own limitations.
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In the battle of revealing their honne—their true feelings, their truest selves—Katsuki risked it all.
Izuku couldn’t do the same, and that’s why he loses.
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Don’t forget that underestimating your opponent is one of the easiest ways to lose a fight in MHA.
But I want to reiterate, Izuku feels conflicted about this behavior and his own feelings, not ashamed.
Emotional conflict is borne from two or more simultaneous, contradictory feelings. Izuku admits that any reasonable person would see the way he unconsciously imitates even Katsuki’s bad habits as gross, but he also clearly tells us something else.
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Izuku is directly expressing his own thoughts about it, and the most important phrase is nanoni, which according to online encyclopedia Kotobank, “indicates that the following is contradictory to the preceding matter” and specifically, “includes critical feelings about the contradiction between” those two things. The latter point is unique because other words often used for “but” (such as kedo, which he used earlier in the form of dakedo) do not necessarily do this.
In the final line, one little detail here is the orange highlighted nda. This is used to explain and correlate topics of discussion. The most obvious point of explanation is why he acts this way. But the use of nanoni to connect this thought to the previous one tells us that this line is also explaining why Izuku doesn’t hate it.
Katsuki is his image of victory, and that alone is the reason he does not find this part of himself unacceptable. Just like with sasuga ni, Izuku is telling us that he understands the way other people would see this situation, and he knows what he “should” feel, but then he tells us that he does not feel that way.
I know it is very easy to see “This is gross, so I can’t tell you” at the start of this monologue, skip right to “image of victory,” and walk away thinking that Izuku is ashamed of that specifically, but the details show that the opposite is true.
And let’s not forget the nuance of yappari, which implies that Izuku has personally thought about this fact over and over, but it has always been this way.
I have seen people say that Katsuki is the one letting Izuku set the pace of their new relationship and that Izuku holds back, with this presumed shame as the cause. But I don’t think that acknowledges Izuku’s perspective on their dynamic, nor the casual mutualism they build together.
Katsuki initiated DvK2: a unique, closed “event” wherein, for the first time, they each expressed their vulnerabilities as much as they were able. But immediately outside the confines of DvK2, Izuku is the one who reaches out, as a gesture of reciprocation towards Katsuki for having initiated this change.
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He is asking Katsuki's opinion, but what this gestures means is, “I don’t want us being honest with each other to end there. I still want you in my life.”
And maybe for the first time in years, Katsuki actually understands what Izuku means, and reaches back.
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Look at these fucking nerds.
Notice that Izuku responds to Katsuki twice. At the first response, Katsuki has offered his observations and given him valid criticism on his technique, which is a show of goodwill. But then, Katsuki continues even when the admission reflects a personal weakness, with Izuku's punch having caught him off guard. This is actual honesty, and it means that they didn't just resolve their aggression and reset to neutral peers, but that Katsuki wants to be close, too. And just like during their fight, understanding comes the second time around.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: from Izuku’s point of view, Katsuki’s shitty behavior was the only thing that stood between them, because Izuku’s core feelings for him never changed.
Izuku lets Katsuki decide what is permissible between them, because Katsuki is the one who pushed him away in the first place. He opens the door just enough to say, “Whatever you want to give of yourself, I will accept.”
After that, Katsuki is the one making the big gestures by taking time out of his own life to discuss OFA with Izuku and All Might and help Izuku by training with him, even inserting himself into situations when he isn't asked. At every point, we see Izuku receive Katsuki with warmth and then follow up with smaller gestures of his own.
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Chapters 202, 209, 249, and 327.
The reason we see so much of Katsuki’s side of their relationship, especially after DvK2, is because his feelings are the ones that change the most: from dysfunctional to self-aware and accepting. He has struggled for years over Izuku’s place in his life. He didn’t understand Izuku or his own feelings, and he was wrapped up in denial. He tells himself again and again that Izuku is “beneath him,” when we know the truth is he always thought Izuku was better than him.
Comparatively, Izuku resolves his conflicted feelings about his admiration for Katsuki much quicker, because the source of his conflict was primarily external while Katsuki's was primarily internal.
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Chapter 257
A little detail I love about the "I'm too blessed" moment is that Izuku thinks of his conversations with Katsuki as "normal(?)" with a literal question mark attached. Is this normal? He doesn't really know. But it's enough. Kacchan is Kacchan, explosive and outrageous and way too much, all the time. Maybe they'll never be what other people think of as "normal," but Izuku is happy just to have Kacchan as he is, and be there however Kacchan will have him.
Katsuki's ideal has always been Izuku; he tried to outrun that fact and failed every time. Meanwhile, Izuku’s image of victory has always been Kacchan, and he has just been waiting for Kacchan to want to hear that from him.
Everyone has been wondering if Izuku will ever tell him. Me, personally, I'm hoping their story will end with a mutual declaration of their shared truth.
"You have always been my hero."
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sharonccrter · 2 days
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I saw this really interesting video, which talked about my two biggest gripes with challengers' discourse. Which are that everyone keeps saying Art is the heart of this movie, and secondly, the insistence that Patrick doesn't love Tashi, only Art. The creator pushes back against these two narratives, and I wholeheartedly agree. Patrick is arguably the heart of this movie.
Two of the most important scenes in the movie are the churro scene and the scene between p/t out in the storm, and they both centre around Patrick.
The entire movie is about passion and purpose in life, and Patrick is the passion.
I mean, a lot of people assume Patrick didn't really have feelings for Tashi, but the only person who says that is Art. Who is vying for Tashi and is his biggest competitor. The reason I empathise with Patrick is that he is genuine and loving to Art; he does love him. However, we are shown no evidence to suggest that Patrick is this shitty boyfriend, apart from what Art says when he's trying to get into Tashi's head because his jealous. We find out that they're talking every week while he's on tour (normal relationship shit). It's Art who insinuates that Patrick is cheating while on tour. The only person in this movie who says Patrick doesn't love Tashi is Art, and it's obviously very intentional.
I think the reason both Tashi and Art push Patrick out of their lives is because he forces them to comfort parts of themselves they are not yet comfortable with. I mean, it's obvious why Tashi would react that way to Patrick; she's just lost the most important thing in her life. However, I think it's tragic from Patrick's point of view as well. I mean, what did Patrick really do? He got into a fight with his girlfriend because she hurt his feelings.
And no, he's hurt was not about Art. The fight made him feel unimportant, which made him feel like she didn't actually care about him. And that's where Art comes in, because who was going around telling Patrick Tashi didn't give a shit? You bet ya. Art. Art absolutely got into his head. And even if he clocked it, in that moment, he still allowed it to get to him because he was emotional and upset. And because he was too hurt to support her, he was thrown out of Tashi and Art's lives.
And here's the thing, Patrick never saw Tashi as an idea. He saw her as a real person, unlike Art kinda did. Patrick wasn't going to let Tashi treat him like shit just because she was special. And, tbh, if Tashi hadn't gotten injured, I think it's something she would have eventually been grateful for. But instead, she got hurt; she pushed Patrick away, and Art slid into his place, telling her that she could be his entire world and the star. That's not healthy, and sorry to stay a little manipulative.
And let's talk about Art. Patrick and him were literally fire and ice. They always had this underlying desire. They were perfect opposites. Let's face it: Art could never replicate what he had on the court (and off) with anyone else. But instead of confronting his feelings, he took the first chance he had to get Patrick out of his life.
The girl I was watching said it perfectly, "Art and Tashi allowed themselves to find consolation prizes in each other and allowed them to run from parts of themselves they didn't want to comfort and in turn enable each other's worst habits."
Art tries to become a tennis superstar so Tashi can live through him, and Tashi gives him a family so he can finally be confident in who he is. But is there any passion? I don't know; I think at some point, it drained; nothing about what I saw on screen apart from their initial get-together screams passion.
Cue Patrick walking back into their life and showing them how they can feel. Art was always going to let Tashi live through him, but that was never going to be satisfying for her. Tashi needs to find a way to create an identity for herself, separate from him. And I believe it'll be the only way she'll live a satisfying life. That's why they need Patrick: to make them realise that and to help them rediscover their passion.
I think people think that Art is the heart because Patrick admits to being a piece of shit. But the truth is, they're all dicks; Patrick was just the only one who was willing to admit it.
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heich0e · 1 day
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"hey."
the bed beside you dips a little as touya nears, crawling under the blankets on his side, but you don't look up from the puzzle book in your hands—you're just about to finish your crossword, and your brain is already feeling sluggish as you fight the call to sleep. instead you hum, so that he knows you heard him.
"are you... have you...." he can't seem to get the words right, and grunts a bit, like he's frustrated with himself. "you worried about aoi?"
that makes you look up.
"no," you reply to him, eyes scanning over his face. "should i be?"
your three year old daughter aoi is the picture of health—or at least, as healthy as children can really be, considering they seem to be magnetic poles towards which germs naturally gravitate. she's a bit bossy, in spite of her age, and has her older brother and papa (and you for that matter) wrapped around her little fingers. but she's a good girl, mostly kind, and exceedingly bright for her age.
you don't have any reason to worry about her.
at least you don't think you do.
at your side, touya's face is lined with frustration; a furrow creasing the centre of his brow, and his lips turned down into a pensive little frown. he has a book in his hands, you notice. his thumb is stuck between the pages as if to mark his place, but you can't see the cover from the way he's holding it.
"touya?" you prod him for more information, setting your own puzzle book aside.
"she sucks her thumb," touya finally says, though he seems reluctant to share that worry with you. when he finally meets your gaze, you see anxiety swimming behind his eyes. "is that normal?"
you laugh lightly in relief, your head hanging slightly as any real fear in you retreats. "yeah, touya. that's normal."
"are you sure?" he insists, "because this book says that kids suck their thumbs to comfort themselves. why would she need comfort?" he holds up the book in his hand, and when he does, you see that it's a parenting book. you've never seen it before, so he must have bought it recently. the image of touya scouring the shelves at your local bookstore for the right title in the childrearing section is remarkably endearing to conjure to mind.
"touya, baby," you push yourself up on your side of the bed, crawling over to him. you ensconce yourself atop his lap, taking his face in your hands. you meet him nose to nose. "put the book down."
"but it says—"
"i know what it says," you don't let him finish. "and it's probably right—kids do lots of things to comfort themselves, and they do need comfort. and maybe thumb sucking well into your developmental years is even bad for you, but aoi is only three. she's still so little. it's perfectly normal for her to suck her thumb occasionally."
touya seems to soften a bit in the wake of your reassurances, but not relax entirely. he leans his face into the cup of your palm, letting you bear the weight.
"look, if it continues on for too long, or gets worse, then we'll talk to the paediatrician. and we'll talk to aoi, too—because if something is bothering her, we'll make sure she knows she can always tell us. but right now, she is just a perfectly normal, happy three year old, who just happens to enjoy sucking her thumb. okay?"
touya's eyes flutter shut, and after a quiet moment you lean forward press a kiss to the spot where a divot of frustration had earlier creased his brow.
"we're doing a good job, touya," you reassure him, brushing some strands of his soft white hair back from his tired face. "you especially."
not a perfect job, because the longer you trek along the path of parenthood, the more you've come to realize it's a fallacy. you know there's no such thing as a perfect parent. you know no one gets it right one hundred percent of the time. but there are lots of parent who are doing their best—who are trying to be better—and you know that you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who's trying harder to do just that than touya.
touya's eyes open once more. the eyes both your children inherited. the blue you named your daughter after. his gaze is soft—vulnerable in ways that once seemed impossible with the man in front of you—as he peers up at you.
"you think so?" he mumbles softly.
"i do," you answer just as gently as he'd asked, before dipping down to kiss him properly this time—not on his forehead but at the centre of his lips.
touya's hands reach for you eagerly, reciprocating your kiss with an equal enthusiasm, and the parenting book slips from his grip and goes tumbling to the floor with a thud!
both of you freeze, pulling apart from your passionate embrace until your lips rest a hairsbreadth away. your breaths are panting. your heartbeats are thundering in your chests. both of your gazes are fixed firmly on your bedroom door.
neither of you move.
"do you think it woke them up?" he whispers after a terrified moment, his tone heavy with anxiety.
"no, i think we're okay," you answer, your voice equally strained.
but still, neither of you dare to move again, still petrified in place, waiting to hear the telltale pitter patter of little feet along the floor.
after a few more tense beats of silence stretch between you in the stillness of your bedroom, a laugh bubbles up from the pit of your stomach and slips through your lips in spite of your best efforts to restrain it. poised frozen halfway up the back of your shirt, touya's hands pull you a little closer, and he chuckles quietly too. you tilt your lips down to meet his again, giggling into the kiss as touya uses his grip on you to reverse your positions and pin you down to the bed underneath him.
"try to be quieter this time," you chirp up at him breathlessly as his hands travel down your body, but you're smiling too widely for the jibe to have any real bite at all. touya rolls his eyes as he dips down into your space, his lips ghosting over yours again in an almost-but-not-quite sort of kiss.
"i'll do my best," he mumbles.
(but you already knew that.)
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c00kieguy · 1 day
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Thigh Pillow
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relationships: Dr. Ratio x GN!Reader summary: You read the title, you saw the header, we both know where this is going cw: just fluff and humor a/n: wrote this after that one Ratio thigh jiggle post, very rushed wc: ~700 masterlist
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"I have a headache." 
Ratio peeks at you from behind his stone tablet, a pair of red eyes stare back at your own, his face filled with worry. You weren't usually one to blatantly say such things, so when the scholar sees you here staring at him instead of getting up to do something about the headache yourself, he assumes it must mean you're in a lot of pain.
"Do you want me to brew you some tea?" He offers. Lowering his book he scans your face for any other signs of discomfort. If it was a fever he'd have to start dealing with it immediately lest it develop into something much worse later on. Your behavior was certainly unusual however, despite supposedly being in pain you're just there, staring at him expectantly, as if you wanted a treat...
"No, that's fine, I could use a nap though." Ratio starts to suspect this might be one of your pranks. It certainly had to be, from the way you never took your eyes off of him to the uneasy tapping of your feet, you were definitely hiding something. Either way he didn't feel like entertaining you so he goes back to his book, thinking you'd head back to your own room to slumber. But when you don't take your eyes off of him even then he gives you a questioning look.
"Oh, here?" Assuming you plan to sleep on the couch he prepares to get up. "I'll leave you to it then."
"No wait!" You frantically reach out to him as he gets up. "You can stay." 
"There'll certainly be more room on this couch without me." He huffs out. Ratio was starting to get annoyed now. He hated the way you keep trying to imply something but never actually tell him directly. Would it kill you to be more upfront with your words? It's not like he could read your mind.
"But then I'll miss you." You give him a fake pout. The man lets out an exasperated sigh and plops back down on the cushion, making sure to stick as close to the arm rest as possible so you have more room to sleep. If you wanted to sleep in the comfort of his presence all you had to do was ask. He's just glad he managed to figure you out quickly.
"Go ahead, I'll wake you up in a few hours." He absentmindedly says while opening his stone tablet again. Finally, some peace and quiet.
"I could use a pillow." He slams it shut. You were really starting to test his patience.
"Here." He grumbles as he pulls out the pillow from his back and tosses it to you. "Would that be all?" 
"I want a blue pillow..." Now he's just lost, why did it matter to you what color the pillow was? Why blue in particular? Was it some sort of superstition you believed in? Did it-
He notices the way your eyes trail down his body. Following your line of sight his eyes land on his legs, or perhaps his thighs-
Oh, thighs, the same ones covered in blue fabric, his pants. Of course. What other reason would you have to go through such lengths? His expression softens a little at the realization you just wanted to lay on his lap.
"You..." He grumbles as he massages his temple. To think the whole fiasco was just for this? Unbelievable. Letting out his nth sigh of the day he regains his composure and pats his thigh. "Come on, lie down then." He finds it amusing how your eyes immediately light up. Shuffling over you drop your head on his lap, the softness of it instantly improving your mood. You truly loved this feeling, there was no better place you could think of to doze off at. 
"Next time, don't bother beating around the bush. Use your words properly. Understood?" You hum in response. There really was something magical about him since you found your eyelids feeling heavy already. Ratio gently brushes aside a few strands of hair to get a better look at your blissful face, he had to admit he liked this side of you. Although he didn't appreciate it too much being left in the dark and guessing, seeing you in this state, so fully open and vulnerable with him, made it all a little more worth it.
"Rest well."
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masterlist
© c00kieguy ➼ do not repost/copy/translate (without my permission) or claim any of my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated ❣
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catmiemy · 11 hours
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New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)
Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.
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A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.
This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!
You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.
How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.
However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?
In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.
Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.
R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.
L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!
You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…
You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.
R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.
With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw?  As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.
L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!
Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.
R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!
And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.
Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.
First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.
You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.
At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.
When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.
This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!
The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.
You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.
Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.
R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!
You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.
---
“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”
Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.
“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.
“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.
“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”
Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.
A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.
It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.
Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.
Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.
Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!
Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.
Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.
It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.
After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.
Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.
So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.
It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.
“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.
“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.
Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.
---
When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.
The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.
However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.
“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”
You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.
“Could be worse,” you replied.
Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.
“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.
For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.
“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.
“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.
“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.
“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.
You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.
“A cuddle?”
Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.
It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.
“Why did you sit all the way over there?”
All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.
Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.
“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.
“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.
“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.
Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.
Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.
That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.
You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.
In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.
So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.
Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.
Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.
“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.
You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.
Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.
“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.
“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.
“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.
“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”
Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.
“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.
You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.
“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.
“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.
“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.
When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.
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ghostofhyuck · 3 days
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His Car isn't Yours
He’s Mark Lee. He’s smart, handsome, a gentleman — everyone’s ideal boyfriend. He’s everything. Oh my god, girls would die to be in your spot. And yet, you felt uneasy as he took you on a date. 
Oh right. You remember. Mark Lee is not him. 
Word count: 2.5k 
Tags: Fluff, angst. Mentions of NCT Dream Members. Mentions of sexual innuendo (just a few!)
Song Inspiration: His Car isn’t Yours by Wendy
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“How about this?” you asked over the video call. It’s almost seven in the evening and you’re still in your bathrobe, raiding your closet while showing it to your best friend. You couldn’t help it. You’re sweating and nervous. 
“Did he mention where he’ll take you?” your best friend Donghyuck said over the phone. 
“It’s a surprise he said, he just said dress pretty — what does he mean by that!?” 
You heard Donghyuck’s hum for a minute. “Okay, ditch the pants and wear a nice dress and sandals.” 
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver Hyuck,” you said to him before proceeding to find the baby blue summer dress that you rarely wear. It was adorned with white flowers, the skirt being just above your knee and hugging your figure perfectly. 
“Well of course! I couldn’t believe it!” Donghyuck squeals, you can see him jumping in his bed excitingly. “You’re going on a date with Mark, everyone wants him, you know that?”
Your smile faded when you heard your best friend’s comment. As the dress fit onto yours, you couldn’t help but to stare at the mirror. Suddenly, this idea was bad. 
“Yn, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Donghyuck asked. 
“What?” you only laughed, trying to brush off Donghyuck’s words. “No, of course not! You’re crazy.” 
“Great, because this is the perfect opportunity for you to get over that jerk.”
Right. Donghyuck’s right. It’s time for you to get over him. It’s been a few months since you two broke up. It was a disaster and you remember crying in your best friend’s arms for a few hours until you passed out because you were too dehydrated. Donghyuck cursed him and you swore that that night Donghyuck swore all the curses that he could think of because of your ex-boyfriend.
It took you a while to pick up yourselves. Slumping yourself on your academics and studies just to get over him. But no matter how much you tried, there were nights that you cried and wondered, what went wrong with the two of you? You never attempted to move on from him. You’re still holding onto that small hope that maybe. Maybe. He’ll show up in your footsteps and ask for another chance. 
But he didn’t and instead, Mark Lee somehow waited for you outside the hallways of your building, asking you if you two can go out for some coffee. Schemingly, Donghyuck agreed on your behalf, convincing you that you should just try it. 
It was the first time you smiled in months. Mark was nice. He was easy to converse with, and he’s also good-looking to start with. You two enjoyed the cup of coffee, and it ended up with you asking what was his intention. 
“I thought I was being obvious,” he laughs. A shy smile formed on his lips. “I’ve liked you ever since yn.” 
You remember being caught off-guard with his sudden confession, you don’t know why but you feel your cheeks heating up because of it. Maybe, you were flustered by his sudden confession. You watch as Mark shyly looks away, and you don’t know why but a part of you wants to know where this will end. 
That’s where you are right now. Wearing your baby blue dress, doing some finishing touches on your makeup while you’re waiting for Mark to pick you up. You agreed to have a date with him, and for once, you wanted to not mop around because of your ex-boyfriend. 
“Oh wow, you look gorgeous,” Donghyuck compliments. “Hope you get dicked tonight.”
You laughed as you sprayed your perfume on you, “I’m not planning to.”
“That’s sad of you boo,” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue and as you put on your shoes, you hear Mark’s car parking in front of your place. 
“Fuck, okay I got to go,” you said, grabbing your phone to say goodbye to your friend. 
“Goodluck on your date! Tell me the deets tomorrow!” your best friend said one last time before hanging up. You only smile as you grab some few things and place them in your bag. As you went out of your place, you saw Mark leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone. 
You stop midway, remembering that it was Mark who’s picking you up, and not him. It’s Mark, who’s hair is dyed blonde, leaning against his Honda Civic which is a different model that your ex-boyfriend drives. 
You watch as Mark glances at you and does a double take, he puts his phone on his jean’s pocket as he approaches you with a smile. 
“Wow,” he breathes. “You look so beautiful.”
Right. You remembered. That tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you and Mark and the hopes that you may find someone better than your ex.
“Thank you,” you only said. “You look handsome too.” 
Mark lets out a chuckle, “should we get going?”
You only nod as Mark guides you towards his car, opening the car door for you which makes your heart flutter. The seat was comfortable and the interiors of the car looked interesting. Your eyes scanned the inside and noticed how it’s polished clean. Even the smell is nice and not those heavy air purifiers that pierces through your nostrils. 
Mark enters the car, and his hands trail towards the seat belt, placing yours first before his. 
“I’ll just put the music on shuffle, but if you want, you can connect your phone if you want to play any songs that you want,” he said, pressing play on the car’s stereo. 
“I love this song!” you said, humming along the song. 
Mark only smiles as he watches you dance lightly to the song, he revved the engine and started driving. He taps on the steering wheel as you continue to sing. He finds you cute, enticed by the lyrics of the song and even attempting to hit the high note. 
“Oh by the way, where are we going?” you asked.
“It’s a surprise,” he teased. 
“Any hint at least?” 
Mark hums for a moment, “it's outskirts of the town.”
You became quiet, wondering what he means by outskirts. It’s either on the hills where the grassfield is clean and a perfect place for a picnic. Donghyuck gossips to you that it's supposedly a perfect hideaway for hookups and sex. 
You glanced at Mark for a second and your heart started beating. There’s no way he’s going to bring you there. It’s too early! But a part of you thinks that Mark isn’t that type of guy who wants you for sex, so maybe it’ll be a wholesome picnic. 
Hopefully. 
But as your mind starts to panic, he turns left which is the complete opposite towards the side, your eyes widen. You know where this is going. 
“We’re here!” he said, parking his car in front of the restaurant. As you step outside, you can feel the wind gently sweeping your skirt. You glanced at the sign. It was neon green, blinking due to its weariness. It’s been years since you went here and a sense of nostalgia hit on you. 
“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you said with an amused tone. “I loved this place when I was a kid! I hope they still have their karaoke here.”
“I’m sure it’s still here,” Mark said. “Should we get inside?”
The interiors are still the same as when you were kids. The smell and the vibe, it’s all there! You see the karaoke on the diner’s corner and you can see that it’s still working, just waiting for a patron to drop a coin and pick a song number. 
You and Mark chose the seat on the corner of the restaurant. It has a couch instead of the usual chairs, that’s why it’s more comfortable for both of you. The restaurant wasn’t that crowded with people, but it was still bustling with noises. 
After the waitress wrote down your orders, your eyes couldn’t stop scanning the place. It is a memorable place for you. Your parents always bring you there on your birthdays or whenever you get good grades. You weren’t able to return to the restaurant ever since your parents moved to another country for work. You long forgotten about the restaurant too, that’s why it was a surprise that Mark brought you there. 
“How did you know about this place?” you asked. 
“This has been a popular restaurant ever since I was kid,” Mark explained. “I was craving their chicken and fries that’s why I brought you here.”
You laughed at his explanation but you saw his genuine side about it, “thanks. It’s been a long time since I went here.” 
Mark only smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you loved it.”
As your order arrived, you and Mark downed on the food while at the same time continued your conversation. You two recalled the memories you two had when you were kids. Even listing down the songs you used to sing at the karaoke. Mark was convinced that at some point, when you two were kids, you two met at the restaurant. 
Halfway through the slice of strawberry shortcake that you two ordered. You decided to be bold, standing up and approaching the karaoke. 
“Are you going to sing dear? The songbook is on the side,” the waitress said with a bright smile. 
You gave her a smile, “I hope my favourite song is still here.”
As you pressed the number, you were surprised that Madonna’s Crazy for You is still listed. You placed down the coin and the familiar tune began to fill the air. Applause from the customer began as you sang the lyrics.
You swayed along the song. You watch as the customers stood up and danced along with you. You turned around and saw Mark, smiling at you and even mouthing “wow” making you smirk as you winked at him. You continued to sing, feeling the rhythm, and then a bright idea popped into your mind. 
Slowly, you approached Mark, who at first was embarrassed, but after much convincing from the crowd, he stood up and danced along with you, earning cheers from everyone. As the song ends, you let out a small bow and were about to return to your seat when Mark pulled you. 
“Hey, sing with me on this one?” Mark said. You watch as he pressed some number and as soon as he dropped the coin, your heart shrunk.
You know this song. You know damn well this song. Because this is your song with him. The upbeat song of Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now filled the room and you watched as Mark sang the first line. Fuck. He used to sing it with you, because he likes the song so much.
It quickly grasped into your mind that it was Mark who’s you’re singing with, you plastered a smile as you sang along the lyrics. In the eyes of the crowd, you two look like a couple. Two teenagers in love and having the best moment of their life, especially when Mark grabs your hand and twirls you before singing the bridge of the song. 
You managed to finish the song, and the crowd cheered, even shouting “Kiss!” from them. Mark tried to brush it off, and you only let out a bitter chuckle because of the awkward situation. 
After that whole singing session, you and Mark have called it a night. You were in a daze as you two exited the restaurant. You only snapped out of it when Mark held your hand and intertwined his fingers around it. 
“Did I startle you? Sorry,” he was about to let go when you squeezed it lightly.
“No, it’s okay, my energy was just low because of the karaoke,” you explained, smiling at him.
“I had fun,” Mark said with a sincere tone. “I’m really glad that we went there.”
“Well, thank your chicken cravings then,” you teased, making him laugh. 
As you two drive to your place. You two fell into a peaceful silence. You only watched as you passed by around the town. You couldn’t help but to lean on to the car window. 
Tonight was fun. Being with Mark was fun. But as you sit there in silence your heart couldn’t help but to yearn for him. It’s hard. You wanted to cry and to let out all of your emotions. You wanted to blame him, because right now, he’s occupying your mind when it should be Mark who’s sitting next to you. 
And as soon as Mark parks his car in front of your place, you couldn’t help but to stare at your apartment. 
“You okay?” Mark asked. 
That made you glance at him, “me? Of course, why?”
“You seem to be in very deep thoughts earlier,” Mark explained. “Wouldn’t mind telling me what it is?”
Mark is sweet. He was a gentleman, not to mention, a really popular guy in your university. Everyone wants him. Girls are lining up for him and would die to be in your place. And yet, you couldn’t find yourself lucky that he likes you. 
Because Mark is not him. No matter how nice, sweet, and good-looking Mark Lee is. He is not the one you love. And you hoped that this night may change it, but no. He’s still occupying your heart. 
“Listen Mark,” you breathe out. “You're sweet and caring, I had fun tonight but…” 
You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, you couldn’t bear to hurt Mark after you two just went out. It felt like a jerk move to do so. 
But a part of you wants to be frank with him too. 
“I just, I don’t think I’m not ready to be in a relationship,” you confessed. “If ever we’ll be together, I wanted to make sure that I can give myself to you but right now —”
“You haven’t moved on from Jeno, haven’t you?”
There it is. Mark mentioned his name and you can feel your heart beating nonstop. God, your ex-boyfriend had you wrapped around his fingers
“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that you could say. 
“No, it’s okay yn,” Mark chuckles. “It’s my fault too, I pursued you too early.” 
“No, oh my god. It’s just —-” 
“It’s fine yn no worries,” Mark gives you a smile, making you feel more guilty. “But that doesn’t stop me from pursuing you, you know that? I’ll be waiting until you’re ready.” 
You could only let out a small smile, but in a split second you leaned onto him to give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you Mark, I enjoyed our date tonight.” 
“I’m glad you did.”
You bid goodnight to Mark. you gave him a smile one last time before going inside your apartment, as soon as you close the door, you couldn’t help but to lean against the door as you hear his car’s engine slowly fade into the background. You can still feel the coldness of the ac, and the scent of the lavender purifier of Mark’s car lingered on you. 
But it felt different. Weird. Unfamiliar because you know that Mark’s car isn’t his. 
Pt. 2 Jeno’s POV coming soon.
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diorcities · 2 days
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the swan (preview)
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extended version hopefully ── haechan x afab!reader genre smut content ballet au, womanizer!hyuck, corruption kink, thriller, dark content (graphic violence: a fight, this scene, a vendetta) haechan has a soft spot for reader, based on the swan in some aspects, this scene may vary tho more tba. this doesn't allude to r*pe or any kind of abuse, promise.
the rest of the night slips out of your mind. you don't know how you've walked, or how you've got out of the academy, or how you ended up back on haechan's bike, taking refuge in the warm space of his back as he rides through the city. he hasn't said a word, and you don't think it's necessary. you don't think you can stand it, so he keeps quiet and it's for the best.
you've come to your apartment again, you don't remember telling him the address. your mind feels scattered and dizzy.
the invitation burns on your lips, but you don't utter them, instead your lips tremble, gathering everything that has happened, what would've happened. “why did he notice me? what does he want from me?”
haechan sighs heavily, “isn't obvious? he wants your purity, dove.”
the word comes out wrong for you. hesitant gaze, looking at his confident features tinged with something akin to annoyance. “i guess you're a virgin.”
“w-what?”
“correct me. have you had a boyfriend?” he inquires, “you've never been on a motorbike, you sigh every time i brush against you in the dance piece. you've never been touched like this, have you?” his glowing eyes demand a response that strangles in your throat. “not even by yourself.” his voice comes out hesitantly as if it had barely occurred to him just now. “white and pure, as a dove,” he recites, breathing artificially.
his fingers drum his helmet under your collapse, and you feel him revel. “he wants you pure, he's attracted to corrupt you. that's why he chose you, that's why he wants you above the rest of the girls,” he confesses, tactlessly.
“do you want to get rid of him? you'll have to corrupt yourself. set yourself free.”
“how can i do that?”
“why don't you try to touch yourself? see if that helps.”
“wh-what?...” you bite your lip before you pronounce, “h-how?” your neck looks like it's about to burn and your chest flaps to explode when you see him smile mischievously. eyes taking on a jovial emotion.
“you'll know how.” you see him fidgets with his helmet as he starts the bike. his gloved hand plays with your cheek, “don't think about it tonight, yeah? go to sleep.” he puts the gear on after checking out your features one last time. “but... when you do, just think of me while you're at it.”
“hae.” your hand grabs hold of his forearm as he's about to leave. “would you... stay? please?”
you see him pound, maybe because of your roommate, “she's out.” the words stumble out, tinged with anguish. an eternity goes by where he weighs the possibility of doing it, seeing him slowly slipping through your fingers. “please, i-i want you to stay.”
he grins fleetingly, “you want me to stay?” he articulates slowly.
“would you?” you don't mean to sound so desperate, but up to this point you care little about how ridiculous you look in his eyes, imploring him to stay the night so you're not alone with your thoughts. “i want you to...”
his eyes widen in expectation. “his hands, his fingertips...” a feeling twitches in your stomach, something dirty reveals itself and takes space as you fall into realization: the white that haechan was referring to, beginning to turn gray.
“d'you want me to take care of them?” he says, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
his hand goes to the handlebars but to turn off the bike. the humming ceases as he hops off and towers over you. his intoxicating aroma sheltering your soul. “anything for my dove.”
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dicenete · 2 days
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I never felt like this before I think I might just want some more I never felt like this before I think I might just
Slide, shake your bones out if you wanna ride Throw your head back, make you feel alive The kind of bad that make you feel good, good God, the kinda wrong that make you feel right The little death that make you feel alive The kinda shouldn't that mean that you should, should, should
It makes your blood run hot It makes your spit taste sweet It makes you feel more alive Than you have ever been Throw it into your mouth Gets stuck between your teeth Why would you die up there When you can live underneath? Dirty little animals Beautiful cannibals
Dirty Little Animals by Bones Uk Damn I love this song... The reason why I had the poll is the tonal whiplash these two snippets have... (I know there is still time for the poll, but I'm impatient person right now.) But the people have spoken and here is the scribble I promised : DD (apologies for all the typos and grammar errors...) ⬇️⬇️⬇️
"In the middle of the most extravagant party of the season, I certainly hope that I wasn't the only one who caught some intense stares between the two most sought-after suitors. The ever rude and barking, the first prince of Benitoite had insulted more than half of the eligible ladies of the ton before the first dance of the night had even finished its last steps. For our surprise, the seventh prince of our beloved kingdom of roses, didn't come and prey on the discouraged beautiful young women, being the rake that we all know and gossip about extensively. But instead he quickly went and offered a glass of fine rose liquor to with the most gentlest of gestures to the fellow prince and asked to join him away from the other guests. Now, it isn't a secret that the fox and the hound are very well acquainted with one another, seen quite often discussing the offers of the more fairer sex. Regardless I can't help but wonder, my dear readers, that were the looks exchanged between the princes something more intimate and playfully challenging than we have ever witnessed from these two ever? Or maybe it is just sly fox playing mind games with the hound of our allied nation? I'm certainly very curious to see if we can witness such looks again."
IkePri Fanart tag list: @scummy-writes @goustmilk @solacedeer @m-mmiy @mxrmaid-poet @pawnkyyy
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 days
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Bets & Bargains - Part 6
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Series Masterlist
➪in which you and bradley reach a new point in your...‘relationship’ after your fourth date takes an unexpected turn, and it leaves both of you aching for more.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
You were going into your second hour of class when Bradley texted you, and while you would usually remind yourself to get back to him later and focus on taking notes, you put your pen down and pick up your phone instead, hiding it behind your book as you read the text. 
Fratley: What are you doing later tonight?
You glance up at your teacher, and once you were sure he wouldn’t catch onto what you were doing, you quickly text him back. 
Nothing, why? 
Fratley: There’s a new horror movie out. For some reason I have a weird feeling that you’re into those kinds of movies.
You laugh to yourself, making sure Mr. Clarke wasn’t paying attention before replying to him.
I have no idea how you knew I like horror movies, but I’m down. What time?
Fratley: It starts at 7:20. I can pick you up for 7?
Sounds good. 
You were giddy throughout the rest of the class and had barely paid any attention to what Clarke was saying by the time the class ended. 
You got home at around 6, and quickly had a shower before Bradley would be here. The fact that you and he haven’t gone more than a day without seeing each other since you met was making you feel all sorts of things, and all of them were good. You couldn’t believe how much you liked him in such little time. It was almost concerning. 
Sam was still a bit pissed off with you since you officially ended things with her brother, but you knew she would come around sooner or later. You didn’t need to marry Luke to be able to consider her your sister. In all honesty, you never saw yourself marrying Luke in the first place. You were still so young, why were you even thinking about marriage right now?
You push away those thoughts and get ready for the movie, opting to dress in black leggings and a cropped tee. You grabbed your UVA hoodie and draped it over your arm as you ran your fingers through your still damp hair. It would dry on the drive to the movies, and you were lucky enough to be one of those people whose hair didn’t get overly frizzy if you didn’t blow dry it. 
Fratley: I’m here early. I couldn’t help it. 
You smile at your phone and leave your room. Just as you were making your way to the door, your fingers typing out a reply to Bradley, Sam leaves her room and blocks your path. “Jesus,” you laugh as you abruptly stop walking. “I didn’t know you were home.”
Sam crosses her arms and tilts her head. “Where are you going? On another date with your rebound?”
You furrow your brows and put your phone in your pocket. “My rebound?”
“Yeah, that guy you’ve been seeing pretty much every day since that party,” she replied, squinting her eyes at you afterwards. “You know, the party I took you to.”
She was acting hostile again, and you weren’t sure why. This couldn’t be because you and Luke were done and that you were moving on, right? She wasn’t that petty, right? “Oh right,” you play along, crossing your own arms. “The party you ditched me at.”
Sam straightened up at that and her scowl deepened. “I already said I was sorry for that,” she muttered.
“I know, and I’ve already forgiven you, so I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up again,” you huff, annoyed that she was still going on about this when you could be with Bradley right now. 
“Because,” she rolled her eyes. “If you never went to that party, you would’ve never met that Bradshaw guy and you would’ve never broken up with Luke.”
You laugh in disbelief. “Are you serious?” You ask, and when her expression doesn’t change, you stand up straighter. “Well maybe I would’ve met him on campus. We ran into each other the day after out of pure coincidence, I could’ve met him for the first time then. And Luke and I have been broken up. For a while now. I’ve moved on, and so should the both of you.”
Sam opened her mouth to respond, but you were fed up. You pushed past her and grabbed your keys from off the coffee table, glancing back at her as you shoved them into your bag. 
“And for the record, Bradley is not a rebound,” was the last thing you said before opening the door and closing it behind you. You were a bit heated as you stepped outside, but the sight of Bradley leaning against the passenger side door of his Jeep calmed you down a bit. You were a bit breathless as you walked swiftly down the steps and reached him, lifting your hand and setting it on his shoulder. “Hi.”
He smiled down at you, his hands wrapping around your middle and pulling your body right up against his. “Hi,” he said back before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss caught you off guard since it was only the second one you’ve shared with him, but the surprise quickly wore off as you deepened it. Bradley kept his face close to yours when he pulled away and murmured, “I saw that you read my text but you didn’t come out for a while. I got worried.”
His confession had you feeling warm for a completely different reason and you smiled up at him, sliding your hand down and gripping his bicep. “Yeah, sorry,” you trail off, your head a bit fuzzy from the kiss. “I was going to text you back, but Sam, my roommate, decided to start something with me just as I was about to leave.” 
“Ah, the roommate,” he teased, reaching up to run his knuckles along your jaw. “Do I get to meet her soon?”
You laugh and shake your head, glancing behind you at the closed door before turning back to him. “Probably not. She’s my ex’s sister, and she’s a bit more than pissed that her brother and I are done,” you say and Bradley presses his lips together to stifle a laugh. “Might not be the best idea to formally introduce her to my ‘rebound’.” You complete the sentence by lifting your hand and finger quoting ‘rebound’, making Bradley let out a loud laugh as he leans further back against the Jeep. 
“Rebound, huh?” He grunted. “That hurts, babe, it really does.”
You blush and shrug, meeting him halfway when he starts to lean back in for a second time. He kisses you quickly before pushing away from the Jeep and opening the door for you. “Thanks,” you mumble and sit in the passenger seat. “You kept it running?”
“Had to make sure your seat warmer was on,” he simply answered and your blush deepened, but he thankfully closed the door before he could see it. The darkening sky also helped hide it. “Ready to go?” He asked once he was in the driver’s seat, looking over at you with his annoyingly pretty brown eyes. 
“Yeah,” you whisper and put your seatbelt on as he pulls away from the curb. “So what’s this movie about?”
“I don’t know, I think maybe it’s about a nun getting pregnant or something like that,” he answered and you nod with a quiet laugh. 
“Nice choice,” you tease and he glances over at you. 
“Hey, it’s supposed to be one of those scary convent movies. I thought you’d be into that kinda thing,” he smirked and you had to physically restrain yourself from kissing him again. How was he so effortlessly hot?
“Oh, I’m into it,” you hum and take his hand when he holds it out to you. He kept his left one on the steering wheel as you lace your fingers with his, and you tried not to think about just how big his hands are. 
Seriously, Y/n, get a grip here. He’s cute, but he’s just a guy. A very cute guy. A kind guy. A stupidly attractive guy. 
And that’s how you found yourself feeling completely screwed for a second time this week. 
-
Even though it had only been a day, Bradley somehow found himself missing you. 
It was crazy, because he shouldn’t be missing you so soon, but he couldn’t help it. He also couldn’t help the way he kissed you against his Jeep when he picked you up, and he was a bit nervous that you were going to react negatively since you and he weren’t actually official. 
But you kissed him back and he was given the reassurance he needed to go on with this date.
Is this a date? Is this his third date with you? Or maybe fourth if you counted the brief movie night at his place, which he does. 
Four dates in and he hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He’s seen you almost every day this week, and things were going great in his opinion, so why hasn’t he put a label on this yet?
He never took Bri out as often as three times a week in the eleven months he was with her, so maybe she was right about him not putting enough effort in with her, but that clearly changed with you. He didn’t want to be stuck inside anymore when he could instead be somewhere with you. 
Bradley was still feeling a little guilty about allowing her to come over the other night, and that might have partly played into why he kissed you. He knew now that he wanted you, and knew he was going to stop wasting his time pining over a girl who only wanted him for his body and dick. 
You were so different from her.
Bradley parked in the underground parking lot, and the whole drive here he had to pretend he didn’t notice the way you hadn’t pulled your hand out of his the entire time. Backing up with one hand was hard, but he didn’t want to be the first one to pull away. Maybe you were a sucker for physical touch like he was. 
God, he hoped so. 
You argued with him about buying your ticket, then dropped the attitude when he suggested that you pay for the drinks and popcorn. “This actually works out perfectly,” you hum as you take your drink and the tall bag of popcorn. “I paid for the garden, you paid for dinner, and now we’re equally paying for this.”
“I wouldn’t count me paying for dinner as anything,” he laughed as he tossed a bag of candy onto the counter after you had already paid for the drinks and popcorn. “Five Guys is so cheap.”
But you ignored his words as you glared at him, watching with squinted eyes as he pulled out his wallet. “Hey, I was supposed to pay for the snacks,”
Bradley just smirked and grabbed the bag of skittles. “I can’t have you paying for your own candy,” he said simply then laughed when you raised one brow. “Fine, we’ll share it.”
“I’ll pay you back,” you offered but he just shook his head and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, careful not to spill his drink on you. 
“It’s like, four dollars worth of skittles,” he brushed off your words and guided you over to the ticket person, handing the guy both yours and his tickets. “I don’t think it’ll break me.”
“I just feel guilty when people pay for things for me all the time,” you say quietly as the guy pointed in the direction of the theater. 
“Don’t,” he said just as quietly, pulling you along with him. “I don’t mind paying for things, babes. I have enough money to get me by for quite a while.” He didn’t want to go into too much detail of why he had a fair amount of money as he felt like bringing up the whole dead parents thing was a bit of a weird thing to announce before watching a movie that may include people getting brutally murdered. 
You glanced up at him in a way that made you look so innocent, he wanted to kiss you right in the middle of the hall. “I like when you call me that,” you confess and he grins down at you, deciding to actually go for it now.
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and he was still smiling when he pulled away. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep calling you it,” he stated, watching as you blushed before ducking into the theater and booking it to your seat, leaving him to laugh as he followed after you. 
Bradley had picked seats that were in the back row since you had told him that you preferred to not have anyone directly behind you, claiming that you’ve had your seat kicked one too many times now. 
The more he found out about you, the more he wanted to know. You had all these cute characteristics and were so incredibly attractive to him, he was sure he would rather spend his time just talking with you than doing anything productive. 
When he sat down next to you, he draped his arm over the back of your chair and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. He had a feeling that it would make you blush again, and he was right. 
Even in the dark room that was only lit up by the previews on the screen, he could see the way your face tinted with a blush, and the way you squirmed a bit. “You’re driving me crazy,” you whispered as someone came in and sat down a few seats away from you. 
Bradley laughed and dropped the bag of skittles onto your lap, making you jump slightly. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way he was able to make you feel all flustered just by doing the smallest of things, like kissing your cheek. “Trust me,” he murmured. “The feeling is mutual.”
When the movie started, Bradley really couldn’t be blamed for not being able to pay much attention to it. He had, what could simply be described as his dream girl, right next to him and he had made you a blushing mess. 
He was a bit annoyed that he hadn’t met you sooner, and he wondered how he had never seen you around campus before until this week. Surely he would’ve remembered you. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the time he spent with Bri felt like a waste now that he knows he could’ve possibly been spending it with you.
Not even twenty minutes had passed since the movie began and Bradley had already lost interest. It seemed like you might have, too, since you had been not so subtly glancing over at him every now and then for the past five minutes. 
The hand of his arm that was draped over your shoulder moved closer to your neck, and soon he was tangling his fingers in your hair. You shifted in your seat slightly, and the next time you looked over at him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing you. 
You kiss him back almost instantly, as if you had been craving to do it as much as he was. Usually Bradley wasn’t into excessive displays of affection in public, but to be fair it was pretty dark in the theater, and the movie itself took place in a dark convent, so it’s not like anyone could see what you and he were doing. 
And he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself right now. He’s been so into you since that night at the party, he didn’t know what to do with himself. You were giving him the impression that you were into him, too, and that was enough for now, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he wanted more. 
He wanted you.
Bradley reached over with his free hand and gently gripped your jaw, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss that was quickly becoming too heated to be deemed acceptable in a public setting. 
He wanted to take you out of here and back to his house, but he also didn’t want to rush things with you. He wanted to take his time.
Then you grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your thigh before sliding it upwards, and he was prepared to ignore all of that.  
You grab onto his shoulders then slide your hands up until they are tugging at his hair, and he swore he had never felt anything better than that. When you started biting down on his bottom lip, he knew he had to either pull away and keep his hands to himself, or take you right out of this theater before something happened. “Y/n,” he rasped when he pulled back, only able to get out the one word before you were kissing him again. He held onto your forearms and pulled away again after a few more seconds. “Let me take you out of here, baby.”
The look you gave him had him not even caring how desperate he sounded as you bit down on your lip and tugged at his sleeve. “Call me that again,”
Bradley was smirking now as he leaned over until he was well into your personal space. “Come on, baby,” he whispered right next to your ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
The moan you let out after that had his cock twitching with want, and you stood up quickly, grabbing your drink as you made a beeline towards the stairs. Bradley grabbed his own drink and the half eaten bag of popcorn, rolling the edges of it until it was closed, then he was practically running after you. 
When he made it out into the hall, you were already halfway down it, but he was able to quickly catch up to you. He wrapped his arm around your middle and turned your body, leaving a chaste kiss to your mouth before he was guiding you back towards the stairwell that leads to the parking garage. “Should we wait for the elevator?” You asked as he pushed you up against the wall beside it, glancing up to see that the elevator was on the seventh floor.
You began placing kisses to his neck and jaw, and when you poke your tongue out and ran it along the scar on his throat, he huffed through a moan, “No, let’s take the stairs,” 
Then he was pulling the door open and tugging you down the three floors with him, neither of you caring at all about the looks everyone gave you as you finally made it to the garage. Damn near everyone in that movie theater were given a free show of you and him not being able to take your hands off one another, as were the people in the lobby, and it just excited him more because he had never felt this worked up before. And he was just kissing you when it happened. 
“Why did you have to park so far away?” You whined as you tried to keep up with him. “I’m dying here.” 
Bradley let out a deep laugh before stopping abruptly. He turned around and picked you up before you could accidentally run into him, and you squealed when he threw you over his shoulder. “Problem solved,” he grunted as he resumed his fast pace towards the back of the garage. 
“Bradley,” you laughed as you clung onto the back of his shirt. 
“What? You were going too slow,” he smirked as he tightened his grip on the backs of your thighs. He finally made it to his Jeep not long after that, and he set you down and held your body close to his with one hand while he unlocked it with the other. 
It was considered a miracle that he was somehow able to not spill his drink on you with just how handsy he was being. He tossed the bag of popcorn onto the passenger seat next to your hoodie then grabbed your drink and set both yours and his safely in the cupholders, turning to you with a smirk now that his hands were free. 
Bradley grabbed hold of your waist and pulled your body close to his, connecting your lips in a deep kiss as he pressed you against the back door. His tongue slipped into your mouth and brushed against yours, and the strained moan you released had him bucking his hips. A string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away and murmured, “Come on,” 
He got up onto the driver’s seat and pushed it all the way back before holding his hand out to you. He helps you up and slams the door once you are settled on his lap, then his lips are against yours again. Your hands tangle in his hair as his grip your waist, tugging your body so your chest is right up against his. 
“The things you do to me,” he mumbled when you pulled away and began placing open mouthed kisses to his jaw and neck, focusing on the spot where the hickey Bri gave him was beginning to fade. “It’s not right, the way you make me feel.”
Your laugh against his neck had him grinning as he closed his eyes and leaned back. “How do I make you feel?” You asked, removing one hand from his hair and tracing the tip of your index finger along the scars on his cheek. “Do I make you feel excited? Overwhelmed? Maybe a bit nervous but in the best way? Because that’s how you make me feel, all the time.”
You whispered those last three words directly into his ear and Bradley groaned loudly. “Yeah,” he breathed out, guiding your body into a slow roll against his. “That’s exactly it.”
“Oh, God,” you moaned and it was probably the prettiest sound Bradley had ever heard in his life. Your hands find his shoulders again and twist his shirt as you take it upon yourself to grind your hips against his, tilting your head back and exposing your neck to him. 
Bradley’s eyes dropped down to your throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to your soft skin. The feeling of your covered core rubbing against him was surreal and he felt himself getting more worked up. He wasn’t even properly feeling you, wasn’t even inside you and he still felt so fucking good. 
When he pulled away from your neck, his eyes darkened at the hickey he left that surely would be hard to cover up later, but luckily it was the weekend. Though he didn’t really care much. He secretly wanted the other guys on campus to see it.
Each drag of your core had you moaning louder and louder, and Bradley wanted to make you feel like this all the time. “Feel good, baby?” He asked in a teasing tone, smirking at the whine you let out as you nod. 
“Yes,” you whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you parked far away.”
A blush took over your face and it sounded like you were forcing yourself to be quieter, and Bradley didn’t like that. “I don’t care if someone hears us,” he rasped, bending one of his knees and grasping your hips tightly. You moan at his words, then moan even louder when he takes full control and bucks up against you. 
“Fuck,” you gasped, clinging onto his shoulders. 
Bradley had never done anything like this in public before, but he knew he couldn’t wait until he got you back home. He also didn’t want your first time together to be in the front seat of his Jeep as he thought you deserved something a bit more romantic than that, so it was kind of good that this was an on top of the clothes type of thing. 
“You’re so pretty,” he groaned as you met his thrusts halfway. “Way too fucking pretty for me.”
You grip his jaw and press a searing kiss to his mouth, the back of his throat silencing your cries of pleasure as you get yourself off on top of him. “Bradley,” you moaned his name and he had to physically hold back a surprise release at just how hot you sounded. “I like you so much, it’s almost pathetic.”
How sweet you sounded when you were insulting yourself. “I like you, too,” he said back, kissing up the side of your neck until his lips met the skin below your ear. “Ever since that night at the party. I thought you looked so fucking good standing in my dining room.”
You bite your lip and dig your nails into his shoulders. “You saved me from being by myself that night,” you struggled to say as you quickened the grind of your hips. “I was ditched just minutes before you came up to me.”
Bradley still had no clue why Sam ditched you, then he remembered that she is related to your piece of shit ex, and it suddenly made sense. He thought back to that awful text Luke sent you when you had fallen asleep during your movie night, and he was appalled that he had the nerve to talk to you like that.
But he could get annoyed with your ex another time, not when you were currently rocking your hips into his and kissing along his nearly healed scars. “You’re gonna make me come,” you warned in a tone that should not have sounded so innocent given the circumstances. 
“Yeah?” He grunted, also feeling himself get close. “You’re going to make me come, too.” 
You grin down at him and kiss his lips as you give a few more rolls of your hips before you tense up against him and release a string of loud, whiny moans. “Fuck,” you stuttered above him, twisting his hair in between your fingers as you came. 
As you were coming down, you never stopped rubbing yourself against him, and not long after Bradley was coming, too. He dropped his head onto your shoulder as he let out deep and breathy groans, feeling his release coat himself in his boxers and jeans. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as you finally stopped and let out a small laugh. 
Your hands trailed through his hair as you both tried to regain control over your breathing. “Did you..” you trailed off as if you were embarrassed to ask him if he came or not. 
It was almost comical since you had just given him what he thinks was the best orgasm of his life, and he never once penetrated you. All his past times with Bri felt like a bit of a joke now that he knew how good you felt, even fully clothed. “Yeah,” he answered, watching as a proud smile formed on your lips. Bradley leaned in and pressed a much more gentle kiss to your mouth, his hands coming up to smooth out your hair. “Sorry we didn’t get to watch much of the movie.”
Then it dawned on him that you and he left not even halfway through a movie about nuns and celibacy to go hook up in his car, and he had to hold back a laugh of disbelief. 
You huffed as you shook your head, laughing afterwards. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really paying much attention to it anyway,” 
“Me either,” he replied and you laughed again, hesitantly moving off him and crawling over to the passenger seat. 
Bradley watched your every move, and when your eyes trailed down to his lap, you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” you gasp, making him furrow his brows in confusion before he looked down and noticed the wet spot on his thigh. 
“Don’t be sorry,” he waved you off, not caring a single bit at the dampness on his jeans, but you seemed to be mortified. 
“I’m embarrassed now,” you murmur and cover your face. 
“Don’t be,” he said again, reaching over and taking your wrist in his hand. “I mean it. That was so fucking hot, and I already couldn’t stop thinking about you before. This definitely won’t help.”
That seemed to make you feel a little better as you slumped against the seat and gazed over at him. “I don’t want this night to end yet,” you confessed quietly. 
Bradley slid his hand along your arm until his fingers were laced with yours. “I don’t, either,” he mumbled. “It’s still early. Why don’t we just sit here and talk?” His offer reminded him of the conversation he had with you that night Bri came over and nearly ruined his whole day. Then you called him and made things better, and he found out just how much he likes talking to you - though it was pretty obvious before. 
“Okay,” you agreed, smiling over at him as you got into a more comfortable position, still keeping your hand locked with his. “Let’s play that question game again.”
“Okay,” he laughed, leaning back as well. “What’s your favorite holiday?”
“I love Christmas,” you answer. “It’s like the one time my family actually puts in an effort to spend time together.”
Funnily enough, that was one of the reasons Bradley didn’t like Christmas. He didn’t have a whole lot of family left, and the one person who was a constant in his life wasn’t a big fan of the holiday either. “You guys aren’t close?” He asked and you shook your head. 
“Not really. My parents and I are close, but my sister and I haven’t really talked much since I came here,” you shrug and look over at him. “What about you? Does your family go all out for Christmas? Or is it a once a year type thing like mine?”
Bradley smiled and looked down at your joined hands. “I don’t really celebrate Christmas that much anymore,” he murmured, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “I loved it as a kid, but now it just feels like a memory.”
Your face scrunches up in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Oh, God, was he really about to willingly have the dead parents conversation right now? Right after you and he just got each other off in a fucking parking garage? “Um,” he trailed off, looking at the various cars around. “Well…I don’t really have anyone to celebrate it with.”
He looked back over at you when you sat up and gave him your full attention, and he knew there really was no reason why he couldn’t just get this topic over with. 
“My dad, he…died when I was really young, so I don’t really remember much of him,” he mumbled, feeling the way your grip on his hand tightened just slightly. He brought it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before continuing, “And my mom died when I was still in high school, so the only person I really have is my uncle, and even he is hardly around anymore.”
There it was. His depressing as fuck backstory. 
“Bradley,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what to say.”
He shook his head and gave you a small smile, reaching over with his free hand and running his fingers along your jaw. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,”
You frown and press the back of his hand against your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you whisper and he shakes his head again. 
“It’s okay, really,” he brushed off your words. “I can talk about this stuff more now without getting too upset. I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it, so that kinda makes it easier to talk about it.”
You nod and kiss along his knuckles. “Hey, I never did ask about what you wanted to do once you graduate,”
“Join the Navy,” he answered as if it was the easiest question he’d ever been asked. “Like my old man.”
“The Navy?” You echoed and sat up. “What, like, the Marines?” 
“No, the Air Force,”
Your eyes widened at that, “You want to fly planes? Like, aviation?”
“Well, fighter jets,” he corrected with a laugh. “But yeah, I wanna fly planes.”
“Wow,” you trailed off, looking out the front window for a few seconds before glancing at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “What do you want your call sign to be, flyboy?” 
He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t really know. Maybe some kind of bird like my dad,”
“What was your dad called?”
For some reason you were super interested in his life, and he actually appreciated it more than he thought he would. “His call sign was Goose,”
“Goose,” you repeated the name with a small smile. “You should be…Duck. Your call sign should be Duck.”
“Duck?” He laughed and shook his head. “No, absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on, that’s a good one,” you laughed, too, somehow able to effortlessly turn a dark and depressing conversation into a much lighter one. “Fine. How ‘bout…Rooster.”
That one actually didn’t sound too bad, and it had the double ‘o’ like Goose. “Rooster,” he tried it out for himself. “Okay, that’s not terrible.”
“It’s settled then,” you state and lean back. “Your call sign will be Rooster.”
Bradley watched as you kissed the back of his hand before pulling yours out of it in order to open the popcorn bag. He was glad you knew about his parents now, as he wasn’t sure how awkward it would be to bring up later.
“What is your favorite holiday?” You asked as you dug around in the bag. 
“Um, Halloween,” he replied and opened his mouth when you held a few pieces of popcorn up to his lips. “What was one subject in school that you just…fucking hated?” 
You laugh and set the bag in between the two of you. “I was really bad at science subjects,” you mumble. “Like, really bad. I passed Chemistry with a 52.”
Bradley tried to hold back a laugh and brought his drink up to his mouth. “Well, Chemistry is pretty hard,” he offered, then couldn’t help but say, “But yeah, a 52 is pretty bad.”
You glare over at him but the smile on your lips told him that he didn’t offend you. “I’m aware,”
When Bradley was forced to drive you back to your place a little while later, he kept his hand on your thigh the whole time. He wasn’t kidding. He couldn’t stop thinking about you before he got you off in his front seat, and it would only be harder to after this. 
“You know, we need to stop having so much fun every time we see each other,” you mumbled once he parked outside your dorm. “Sooner or later I’ll start expecting it.”
“What, having fun with me?” He teased, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Trust me, babes, you’ll have fun all the time as long as you’re with me.”
You grin over at him, “I’ll hold you to that,”
Then you were leaning over the center console and pressing a deep kiss to his mouth. One that had him shamelessly groaning and wishing that you would invite him in with you, but he was also trying to remind himself that he wanted to take his time with you and not rush into things. “Have a good weekend,” he muttered when he pulled away. “I’ll be thinking about you nonstop, I’m sure.”
You blush and reach for the door handle. “The feeling is mutual,” you whisper, then get out of the car and make your way inside, leaving Bradley to wait until he felt like he had enough control over himself to be able to drive back to his place.
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anistarrose · 2 days
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I was going to make a post saying "Lucretia told everyone the truth there were seven Grand Relics instead of covering her ass and saying there were six because she's a storyteller, and six sounds objectively less cool than seven," but then I thought about it and actually, if you look at the timeline, I think this was probably a very pragmatic or at least tactically safe decision on her part?
When Lucretia founds the Bureau, Junior hasn't been born yet. Lucretia obviously doesn't even know Junior will be born someday. So once she inoculates Bureau members with Fisher — a necessity to staffing the Bureau in the first place — Lucretia can't keep any more secrets from them, with only one Voidfish at her disposal. And crucially, while Lucretia is the Bureau's primary source of info on the "Red Robes," basically all her recruits lived through the Relic Wars.
Upon inoculation, they'll all presumably remember at least some details about the Grand Relics. Obviously no one but Lucretia would know anywhere near everything about each Relic and their properties, not least of all because of a high eyewitness fatality rate, but part of the reason the wars were so deadly was because word of the Relics spread. Everyone in the world knew a few things about them.
So, if Lucretia were to tell her recruits: "oh, don't worry, there's only six terrible artifacts we need to destroy, tee hee!" then it's very possible that assorted Bureau members — especially Seekers, for whom looking into the Relics is literally their job — could start comparing memories amongst themselves, and put together that there was a seventh, leaving Lucretia with no option but to admit that she lied. If I recall correctly, the podcast never explicitly indicates what/how much damage the Bulwark Staff did to the world — but I find it hard to believe that it didn't do anything an inoculated person could later find record of or remember. (There's an admittedly good fanfic premise, though, in Lucretia leaving her Relic in someone's care to make it stationary, like how Magnus gave the Chalice to Jack, or how Barry is theorized to have given the Bell to the Wonderland twins.)
I digress, but the point is, Lucretia may have necessitated a lot of little lies for her future self by admitting there were seven Relics, but trying to winnow it down to six could've easily bit her in the ass, and she was definitely smart enough to realize that. She acted accordingly at the time.
And by the time Junior comes around, then of course she could theoretically use them to erase the Bulwark Staff from her employees' minds — but by then, she's been hiding the Staff under everyone's noses for about a year, and no one has gotten suspicious. So if it's working, why change it? She's no doubt also smart enough to reserve Junior's power for emergencies only — even if people forget information, they can still retain the feeling they're forgetting something. With people planetside, that's one thing — but with her employees on the moon, from whom she needs unshakeable trust?Probably not worth it.
Overall, a it's deceptively rational decision on Lucretia's part, honestly. And also, seven Grand Relics still sounds way more badass than just six.
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