#that seems to make up for the day to day boringness
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the last two days are hectic as fuck. i have the morning shift yesterday, but i ended up doing overtime because my prospect is late and a customer of mine forgot her bag so i have to do the after sales service of reminding, waiting, and greeting her with a smile just for picking up the shit she forgot!!!!! at least i end the day with a good sale, but damn was it exhausting.
and to make matters worse, we have a work event and it was done in the morning. like real early 7 am shit. but i have a gig i want to see tonight. the next gig happens in 4 november sure, but im not sure I could attend because my org is planning a protest a week after that and I already missed the one happening in mid october because I agreed to go on a cosplay competition (we got third place btw) and i end up being too exhausted i promptly fell asleep after i went home instead of going to party.
i say fuck it, 24/7 grindset im gonna do both. so after work, i went home only to change my work uniform to a band tee. and then i went and had a great time.
the venue kinda sucked. it was a small cafe behind a university, there was ample space for crowds to hang around and mosh if you remove the chairs, but again, this isn't like the warehouse. smaller capacity, no actual stages, low ceilings, shitty lighting and barely any seats. also the drinks are overpriced. they dont even have space for a merch table or a designated spot for the band's equipment. they just left it laying around in a corner. but i guess thats the charm of smaller shows like this right? i end up having fun anyway.
the setlist was all local bands. the band performed in the one corner they put lights on. people were huddled around in the designated "stage area" and there was balloons and shitty party decoration. completely clashed with the music ngl. but it is amusing to see a bunch of shaped balloons taped to a wall to make the ACAB number. i stayed close to the moshpit, but never actually entering. again, im tired. i just want to vibe and headbang and maybe get some new music to listen to. I saw a guy that I thought was my friend, because he got a similar frame and wore a battle vest. Too bad he's not here. I thought he liked stuff like this? But then again last I heard he was having a little problem with the local punks since his brother accused them of being sellouts for searching for a sponsor to fund a small concert a few months ago. Well, at least I met an acquaintance who used to be in the next town's youth communist chapter. We had a little chat, but I was mostly vibing on my own because I can't hear anything she's saying. At one point, I saw someone who was dancing stop to walk around with his flashlight on, I figured he was looking for something, so without saying I trailed him a bit and lit my phone flashlight to help. The incident was very brief, especially since the crowd wasn't so rowdy. But when it was done, I realized the new song just started, and I'm stuck in the middle of an burgeoning mosh pit. Lol, I never ran so fast like that. Again, I just hang on the edge, enjoying the music and preparing to get tackled and hit by a stray elbow. I'm not in the mood to spin and dance in the center but that doesn't mean I'm not open with a little rough housing. I didn't end up getting hit for the night though. I just got shoved once or twice which is disappointing.
I notice one thing for sure today, men love touching each other up. There was no stage, so the boys there make do by lifting a friend like theyre going to powerbomb them to floor and then running headstart to throw them to the backs of the front row crowd. Some just lift their friends to mimic crowdsurfing even when the ceiling was so close they could have gotten their friends hurt. Friends were teasing each other to start a pit by tackling them hard. The fact that all of the singers manage to avoid all that mess instead of getting themselves knocked on their asses was impressive. The place was small!!!
I had a great time even though I wasn't doing much and I didn't hang around in the afterparty even though my friend was there. I have to go to work on a Sunday!!!!!
Anyway, about my friend, I said she's a former member of the org right? Well, about a year ago she started a feminist advocacy group on her own. Me and my org worked on a couple actions. I asked her how its going because I want them to collaborate with my chapter for the solidarity protest we're planning. Well, turns out she, the founder, have left the org over ideological differences. Said the girls were not radical or in the same political level as she is and she failed to push them farther left. I do a brief check and it's true, it seems like the group have left their political roots and is now more of a literature appreciation society. I don't know if I feel vindicated or i feel bad. on the other hand, we do need a radical org outside of the student cliques. the ones we have now are not enough. so it sucked to see one go, especially one with a feminist focus. yall have no idea how male-dominated political organizing could be sometimes. It really is something that needs to be fixed and i feel like the org she made, despite my criticism, was a good first step to allow women to be more involved in local politics. its good that they exist. but i do feel like saying "i fucking told you so" when she decided hanging out with her friends to make vague statements about female empowerment are more revolutionary than actually campaigning for laws that recognize marital rape and online harassment as a crime. the latter is boring and frustrating but its a good project to work on while we're building a revolutionary party. im sorry real organizing work doesn't have the glamor of being a "sensitive artiste" but im not sorry that your group of "progressive" and undisciplined authors turns out to be chickenshit careerists and influencers. your org doesnt even have the balls to post a happy pride month post on instagram.
And of course, when i asked her if some of her scene friends might want to start a political action again, she kinda looked away, and muttered about how our local culture about avoiding protests and being peaceful is so entrenched and hard to shake off. so i guess she's giving up? rolling my eyes so hard right now. i guess its easy to give up when you can just leave town wherever. but im effectively stuck here for maybe my whole life and i still fucking tried even though this whole endeavor seems a lot like a sinking ship sometimes. Oh well, she'll come back one day. everyone always does.
Ah, enough about her. I have some contacts i havent called and i should focus on that. What is up with the university orgs anyway? A month ago they were protesting local landgrabbing scandals and then the presidential election news happened so now all of the talks about indigenous rights are sidelined for the new nepo baby discourse. honestly im worried that if they stop talking about the land grab cases happening on their own backyards this quickly in favor of the shiny new thing, then how will my org have the power to ask those guys to protest for colonialism happening almost a world away with us? Esp when we're this small
Okay, thats enough, lets get out of my head. I went home without attending the afterparty, i have to sleep fast. I end up passing out at 1 am and waking up at 5 am. I can never get enough sleep i swear to god. I'm heavily considering crawling back to my therapist and asking her for the ssri's and sleep meds again. gastritis and exhaustion be damned, at least i get a full night's sleep. anyway, at least im not late for my job. I even got time to make a casual cute outfit. I wore a tight crop top, a little cardigan to cover my arms, and a high waisted work pants. It's a bit unusual for me since i usually try to pass or at least look butch as much as i can get away with. But I feel girl, so i dress as a girl. I got a lot of compliments both online and offline. Prospective customers flock to me instead of my coworkers in the streets. I mean, i do look good. I'm eating regularly now so i've gotten bigger and i got cute love handles. Recently i got my hair straightened so its not frizzy and wavy anymore. I got a sense of confidence from working in sales and i just have that post-coming out glow. I would personally fuck myself. Huff my own armpits yknow?
Anyway, without revealing too much about my job, its a boring one but its got its perks. my boss was quite nice as well. After the event, we all ate in this chinese breakfast restaurant. I remember that i went at the diner besides that place on my first date with a girl around eight years ago. The food sucked. Bland, flavorless, no broth where they should have been. Overpriced steamed buns with limited fillings. But turns out this other restaurant right besides it have really great porridge and buns. it even have herbal ginger teas. Maybe that date would have lead up to something if only i took her to the right diner. alas, whats done is done. I had fun eating, and my boss paid for it. After that i went home, i need to go to work again at 12 am until 8pm because just my luck, i got the afternoon shift. at least this time when i went home, i manage to get a two hour sleep. Yes im a little bit late for work. I dont care haha. I'm going to spend the next two days chasing my quota anyways when im supposed to be enjoying halloween 😒
#posts about my life#this is my life lol... two or three weeks where nothing happens followed up by three super hectic days#that seems to make up for the day to day boringness#i should be doing more tbh
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☆ father like son.
- pairing. leeknow x reader
- tags. fluff
you came to your boyfriend's apartment to pet sit his three cats, which it was a miracle to you, as boredom was consuming you whole when you were home alone. however, as the whines that left your lover's and his three cats mouth, you realised how much in common your son's have with their father.
it was an quiet afternoon, were you find yourself longing for the day to end, due to the extraordinary boringness that was swallowing you whole.
tired sighs left your mouth, it seemed as if you been laying on your back for hours, seemlessly scrolling through your phone, however, it has only been 20 minutes.
the whole day has been wasted just like that, but it wasn't because you weren't motivated, it just was because there was nothing on your to-do list today, therefore, there was nothing to preoccupied the void that filled your brain with boredom.
you layed on your back on the cold wooden floor in your living room, the tunes in the background coming from your tv and the cold sensation from the wooden floor pressing amongst your back, was long forgotten. you were lost in the mind of your own.
however you were shortly interrupted by the ringing sound coming from your phone. your eyes weren't bothered to check who the caller was, as you felt it may of have been a scammer.
"hello?" you picked up, a confused tone leaving your mouth, as you listen to the sweet voice that had easily just lighten your terrible day by three words.
"wanna come over?"
a smile perked up your face and before you knew it, you started to sprint towards the front door. "i'll be right there!!"
who knew your day could easily be lighten up by a boy who owned three cats?
three quicken knocks hit the door of where your lover lives, slowly opening to reveal the kitten obsessed boy. leeknow stood there, wearing his usual grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, interwining both of your hands together and pulling you into a warm hug.
you stood there for a few seconds, allowing yourself to feel his warmth against your collided bodies, lost in the moment together.
however, this peaceful moment was interrupted by a furry figure that rubbed against your legs, begging for attention, which his two other brothers started to join after seeing your figure hidden by your boyfriend's back.
"i think that a sign to go inside" minho chuckled, still holding your hand while pulling you inside his apartment.
it's been a few hours since you been pet sitting with your boyfriend, however, night was falling and your desire to sleep was nearing.
"jagiya~ stay with me" lino whined, revealing his cute pout which easily persuaded you to stay. His sons crawled to where you sat on the couch, rubbing against your soft skin, purring and whining just like their father.
"fine, since you keep sulking" you teasingly responded, earning a clingy and more pouting leeknow, who kept saying he wasn't.
layed in your lovers bed, his fit arms firmly holding you tight against his chest, protecting you from the world.
there stood his little three furry sons, soonie, doongie and dori, cuddling with you guys, as if they were jealous.
littles whiney purs were heard from the three cats, making you and leeknow move your attention to them, before placing them between the both of you.
sleep over took all of you, embracing the moment, holding your sleeping lover and your three babies closely near you, with one thing left in your mind before you were drifted into dreamland.
'you are just like your father, whiny, clingy and will always win my heart'.
thank you for all the supports!! omg ive gotten so many notes it's fascinating and I'm literally dying from shock with how much attention I've been getting lately!!
now it would be an honour to write about what you guys want, so please, send me some requests of what you want me to write and ill try my best to construct it into your liking!! (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*
#lee know#lee minho#lee know fanfic#lee know fluff#lee know imagines#lee know scenarios#lee know soft hours#lee know x reader#lee know x y/n#lee know skz#skz#stray kids#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#skz lee know#stray kids soft hours#skz imagines#not edited
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5. “You have no idea how much i want you right now”
19. “i’m yours”
W/T: teasing, kinda dirty talk, public sex (? i mean you’re not the only one at home), quick and unprotected sex
PAIRING: Boyfriend!Wooyoung x afab!reader
not proofread saurry 🤞🏻
Inviting your bestfriends at dinner was surely a great idea, a nice way to spend a fun evening with the company of great seven man. Right? Well at least for you, Wooyoung was having a good time but he planned something else for you two before you invited your friends.
You listened carefully to Jongho as he was telling y’all a fun story the one of his friends told to him the morning of the same day, which got you almost rolling on the floor from laughter. Every one of you was clearly enjoying, especially Mingi who was laughing like a 8 years old child. On the other hand there was Wooyoung who simply giggled a couple times, but mostly giving you deep stares, from what you could have caught by looking with the crook of your eyes.
After two good hours, unfortunately most of your guests had to leave, greeting and thanking you before going back home. Still some of your friends found a comforting spot on your couch, chatting together without minding what time it was. If Mingi and Yunho were completely infatuated by your PS5, Seonghwa helped you and your boyfriend cleaning the table.
“Thanks Hwa, you can reach them two now and have fun with… yeah whatever that makes them chucking like that” you conceded him, while taking the washing-up liquid. He nodded at you with a smile before leaving and heading towards the living room.
You sighed deeply at the boringness of washing the dishes, just looking at your hand drawing soapy circles on them, when suddenly your body shivered at the feeling of two hands groping your hips, a recognizable smirk got close to your ear.
“How’s my baby doing?” Wooyoung cooed sweetly at you, while his arms were wrapping around your waist, his chin resting on your right shoulder.
“Hmm… it could be better, i mean not that i’m having fun right now” You smiled hearing him mewling in comprehension, his grip was getting tighter as the seconds passed by.
“Then just stop, i’ll wash them tomorrow”
“But Wooy-“ his hands dragged down slowly your stomach, getting dangerously close to the gap between your thighs. Your body stiffened and your heartbeat accelerated as you heard a small whimper exiting his mouth, echoing inside your mind.
“You have no idea how much i want you right now.” he kept murmuring, his hands were now groping and touching every single part of your body. You unintentionally blushed at his words, your face seemed burning despite you felt the core down your body becoming a fucking river.
“You know? before you could invite all of them by us… i planned to have sex the entire evening and occasionally half a night, till you couldn’t take more of me”
You trembled, the warmth of his body against yours and the attractive tone of his voice was driving unconsciously you crazy.
“I’m yours…” is the first thing that your brain made you mutter, gaining from Wooyoung a pleased yet surprised chuckle.
“May you repeat? Sorry, i didn’t hear you because of all the noise those fools are making with our playstation”
“I said i’m yours, you fucker.” you voiced loudly, turning around trying to notice if the others could have heard you.
“I’m surely gonna fuck you after that, babe.” Meanwhile you have dried your hands with a cloth, Wooyoung started to drag his ones under your shorts, playing teasingly with the sides of your panties, pulling them up to make them press harshly against your aroused clit.
“W-wait… here? you mean now??” you breathed out quickly, your hand instinctively holding onto his shoulder from behind as he was keeping to play with your undies.
“What? Want me to hunt our beloved guests?”
“Well… yeah??” you replied back with a slight concerned tone, while he was simply joking around.
“And what should i say? Guys, get out of my house, we wanna fuck, huh?”
“Yeah, even just like that’d be okey” you turned around to face Wooyoung, the core in your stomach intensifying at the sight of his gorgeous face smirking at you. He sighed, his hands not leaving his grip on your hip for even a second.
“Come on, just a quicky. They won’t hear us” Wooyoung begged you, groping harshly at your butt cheeks trying to convince you.
“Tsk, what are you talking about? you’re louder than me sometimes.” you scolded him, chuckling as he bit his lip.
“Oh please… i mean with that pussy of yours…”
You hit his chest at the sudden reaction of your folds clenching around nothing, just with that the feel of being empty tortured you.
“Okey… but make sure we don’t get caught or you’ll have to deal with them” you raised your index finger at him, turning around to bend at the countertop. You teasingly shook your hips, gaining from him a spank on it. The rough sound of his palm slapping against your skin, made you jolt.
“Fuck! Be quiet” you whisper aggressively.
“Sorry, a habit” his fingers grabbed the elastic of your pants, dragging them down just under your ass. Wooyoung couldn’t help but groan lowly at the sight of your bare skin, breathing heavily to contain his emotions as he pulled aside your sticky panties. He layed on your back to reach your ear.
“Already so wet for me? Perfect, we’ll do it fast i promise… but i can’t promise we won’t have a proper round after they leave.”
“Shush just fuck me already” you held onto his waist once he pulled out his cock, ready to dive into your soaking entrance. As soon as he heard loud sounds coming from the living room, he let out a sharp moan, throwing his head back at the overwhelming pleasure of having your creamy walls clenching around his sensitive length.
“Oh god… so tight. If you keep it like that i’ll be close very soon” he whispered breathily, his fingers squeezed your waist harshly enough to print bruises on your bright skin.
“G-good… speed up” you mewled, tears of pleasure running down your blushed cheeks.
His hips rocked quickly into your, if there wasn’t the backround sound coming from your tv, there could have been surely heard the sticky and squelching sound your lubricated pussy being pumped by Woo’s dick. It didn’t take long for both of you to climax, letting out desperate and sharp sighs instead of what you usually called a moaning mess.
“Fuck fuck fuck…. cum inside” you whimpered quickly, holding your breath as soon as you felt hot and wet ropes shooting inside your leaking pussy.
“Holy fuck… perfect as always, it’s just made to take me” he whined softly, pulling out slowly. He stroked his dick a few last times on the middle of your panties to let out the last drops of his cum, before moving them back on your soaked pussy. Wooyoung patted your ass, chuckling:
“Good work baby, i love you”
You putted your shorts back in position, turning back at him. He placed immediately his lips on yours, while your hands caressed his cheeks. You pull out soon after, giggling at his flustered whine.
“Let’s send them home. Now.”
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#ateez hard thoughts#ateez povs#ateez hard hours#ateez x reader#ateez headcanons#ateez requests#wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#wooyoung smut#wooyoung fanfic#wooyoung imagines#wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung fic#wooyoung hard thoughts#wooyoung povs#wooyoung hard hours#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung headcanons#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop hard thoughts#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines
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You Sit In Their Lap - Doctor Who Preference/Reaction
Been awhile huh?? I've been really busy and have been having a hard time, but I've picked myself back up a good amount and I'm ready to start making more fanfics!!
I was so tired while making 10 and the Masters so they might be a lil weird lmao, plus I had a few drinks before hand😬
This is more aimed at FEMALE READERS, but I didn't mention any pronouns... I think
WARNING: Fluff, Angst
9:
Nothing seemed to be going your way today, you were so excited to go on another adventure with the Doctor, but the Tardis seemed a bit queezy after travelling so many places in such a short amount of time, so the Tardis was just floating in space until it was ready to go again.
And then your best friend called you, telling you that someone close to you had passed away, and that was more than enough to make you cry on this already frustrating day.
You trudged your way along the halls of the Tardis to find the Doctor in the library. Once you finally found him, you dragged your feet over to him and waited until he noticed you; which didn't take long.
He set his book down and looked up at you with a smile, asking what it was that you needed. You took no time in making your way onto his lap, legs on either side of him, and hugging him and starting to sob and explain what happened.
Once he had heard all what happened, his arms wrapped around you in an even tighter hug, letting you grieve over your loved one.
"Well, now that you've had a good cry, why don't I tell you a story about one of my previous adventures, you know, just to try and take away from the pain a bit!"
10:
The Doctor was looking up a few things in the books in his library, trying to find a new planet to take you to, a planet that had no danger whatsoever on it so you could just enjoy your time there without almost dying.
Meanwhile you were all over the Tardis, headphones on, listening to music and dancing your way to find the Doctor and demand some cuddles from him. You swayed your hips, and moved your body to the beat while looking for the library entrance.
Once you had finally found the door to the library, you took your headphones off and started searching for the Doctor. You found him sitting in one of the booths in a tucked away corner. You smiled brightly and bounded towards him.
The Doctor looked up at the sounds of footsteps, "Oh, hello (Y/n)! I've been trying to find a good planet to go to next, haven't found one yet. Anywhere you wanna go?"
You only smiled wider and climbed onto his lap on the booth.
"As of right now, the only thing I wanna do is cuddle, but feel free to keep looking for planets we can go to!" You exclaimed, laughing a bit at his surprised face when you sat on his lap.
The Doctors face softened as you wrapped your arms around him and layed your head on his shoulder. He could wait a bit until the next adventure, for now it was cuddle time!
Simm!Master:
(Ignore the caption😂)
Being stuck in your house was killing him, yes he needed to lay low for awhile, but the man can only take so much boringness until he breaks! It wasn't even a week before he started to get extremely restless and fidgity because of the lack of adventure.
"This is so boring! How do you humans do it? How do you live without time travel?" The Master asked, sitting on the couch upside down.
You sighed, "Master, I know it's boring, but unless you wanna regenerate every time you walk out of that door, I suggest you stay here for at least one more week, then everyone will forget about you and move on to the next thing."
The Master scoffed, "Starting to think even THAT would be better."
All you could do was roll your eyes as he finally sat the right way on the couch, his face laying on his palm as he boredly watched the television.
Suddenly an idea popped into your head and a small smile was put on your face.
You walked over in front of him, hands on your hips, then proceeded to climb onto his lap and hug him, your thumb stroking the back of his neck and your chin resting on his shoulder.
The Master looked at you in surprise; never in his life had someone hugged him like this.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Just relax, it's all we can do for now," you replied.
The Master gave in quickly as he realized how the drums calmed down a bit while you were cuddling up to him. If this is what he needed to calm the drums, then that would be no problem with him.
#10th doctor x reader#10th doctor#tenth doctor x reader#tenth doctor#9th doctor x reader#9th doctor#nineth doctor x reader#ninth doctor x reader#ninth doctor#nineth doctor#simm!master#simm!master x reader#the master#the master x reader#the doctor#doctor who#doctor who preference#doctor who imagine#doctor who imagines
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i think the thing that people dont seem to get about limbo- from what we have seen of it- is that its not some horrific torture chamber. its just a liminal space. its the in between between the presumed afterlife and living world. wilbur wasnt being tortured every waking moment. he was just stuck in a train station. for 13 years. at that in and of itself was his torture, the boringness. that "nothing".
people make characters limbos into these awful things of like "i think hes forced every day to be just out of reach of saving someone only for them to die over and over." but again, its not hell, its just limbo. tommy's limbo was pure darkness, schlatt's limbo is just a gym he can't leave, mexican dream's limbo is mexican l'manberg, and ranboo's limbo is just sitting on a grass block surrounded by water.
i would argue ranboo's limbo is the most like a torture chamber, but ranboolive is just really fucked up with cranboo and likes to make him suffer, so im not surprised his limbo is more akin to torture than the others.
i dont know, i just see people making these fucking infinite dan/ganronpa executions for these characters and calling them limbo, and thats just... not what weve actually seen of it.
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If I may ask: how would you have written/rewritten Sumire's confident story? 😊 Unless it's too close to what you did in code violet, sorry 😂 Personnally, I thought the first half wasn't THAT boring, she was endearing but I felt like she was either in denial or hiding her grief about her sister's death - and then I got the truth 😂 I've become a shusumi fan quickly but I still think there's *something* lacking for it to click. And the last scene we see Sumire was underwhelming imho 🥲
yeah! there are a lot of similarities to what i do in code violet, but it's not identical, since I have a lot more freedom in my fic than there is in the game.
i wouldn't change much if anything about the first half. i agree it isn't that boring, what really makes it seem that way are (1) high expectations for the New Special Girl to be exceptional since she wasn't in the original game and (2) comparing her to the other team members who you're already invested in, her conflict just isn't as interesting (at least to me). basically, you start out every other thief confidant already knowing the core of their conflict because of their palace, so you're already invested in their arcs, while with sumire that is reversed, where you don't learn what's actually going on with her later. so, the "boringness" of the confidant is really exaggerated by that. if you didn't like the way they inserted her into the opening sequence (i never had an issue with it, but royal was my first experience, though i did know the stuff with her was added in the rerelease) so she made a bad impression on you, then it's understandable why people wouldn't like her (at first, anyway)
but let's get to the point. my issues with her confidant. they can basically be summed up in 2 points, and the two of them intersect quite a bit (1) the way she idolizes both kasumi and joker and rely on them for her self worth is not properly unpacked and (2) her role as the waifu REALLY impedes her arc.
basically, sumire idolizes joker. her outfit mirrors his exactly, and her arc in third sem is all about...learning that since joker loves her, she wants to both rise to his expectations and can learn to value herself. and that's not bad, but certain lines about how she wants joker to see her really rub me the wrong way. specifically in her rank when they go to the mall and she picks an outfit for herself. i like the part about her wanting to be seen as herself, and the part about joker's reaction ultimately being irrelevant to whether she likes the outfit, and i would emphasize those points more strongly. but the parts about her wanting joker to see her feel a little like she's trying to be a person he will like? rather than being the person that she is. some of the dialogue is pretty meh, and it feels like she's getting her self worth from joker.
the bones of the confidant are good. great, even. but there's just subtleties in the execution that make it not quite land for me. choosing the romance route ends up feeling unhealthy for both of them, where sumire is putting too much of her worth in someone else and joker is entering an unequal relationship where sumire doesn't give him as much as he gives her because he just isn't in a place to. and i think that's a shame.
for me to get behind shusumi, sumire needs to be on equal ground with akira, and she just isn't. and the game is even aware of this--sumire says on white day that she isn't, but that she wants to be someday. and like, it could be her being self deprecating, but either way it's not what either of them deserve. i wish we could get a moment where she's there for akira like he's there for her, but atlus is allergic to joker's friends being there for him so we never get that.
so honestly, i really wouldn't change much. i'd leave the first half how it is, tweak some dialogue in the second half so it seems less like sumire is getting her self worth from joker, and add a moment where sumire explicitly says she's there for joker and wants to be there for him as much as he's been there for her, so they're on emotionally equal ground with each other.
finally, i do wish we got to see more of her journey, since she really is just at the very beginning of her arc of recovery at the end of the game. but i think it's okay that we don't. there is only so much time allotted to watch her grow, and we see her grow a lot in that time. there's questions she could ask herself that she doesn't have the time to get to, like if she really wants to be a gymnast for herself, or if she's just doing it for her sister. that sort of thing. but again, i think it's okay we don't get to that. i might add a line or two where she says she wants to be a gymnast for herself because she enjoys it, though.
and i guess that's it? i'm sorry for how disorganized this answer is. i haven't really thought in depth about what i'd change if restricted by the confines of the game, and so it's kind of difficult to do a rewrite when that's different than just having problems with what exists. a lot of what i would change can be found in code violet, like how i emphasize that it's "joker makes me want to be seen for who i am, and see him in return" rather than the one-way dynamic of "joker makes me want to be seen and so i will try to be a person he likes" which some of her lines really come across as sometimes. honestly, i think the entire confidant could have been improved by leaning more into the rivalry dynamic. sumire and akechi already have plenty of similarities/parallels, and joker kind of inherits kasumi's role as sumire's rival. so i think it'd have been really powerful if they leaned into that and made it clear that this time, sumire and her rival are equals.
but yeah! sorry this is so rambly. i'm going to end the post now
#sorry it took me so long to get to this I started writing it out right when you sent it#but I was too tired to get my thoughts down coherently and then it got lost in my drafts#sera answers#saemi-the-dreamer#sumire yoshizawa
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I Would Leave if Only I Could Find a Reason - Rhydian Morris Imagine (Wolfblood)
Title: I Would Leave if Only I Could Find a Reason
Pairing: Rhydian Morris
Based On: Homesick
Word Count: 690 words
Warning(s): mention of hating home
Summary: After a particularly rough day, (Y/n) hides away from everyone around them. When Rhydian tracks them down, (Y/n) explains just how tired they truly are of the people they have to spend every day with.
Author's Note: This is kind of a thank you. Out of almost every imagine on this account, my Rhydian imagines are the ones that are consistently getting liked and read over a long period of time. This is just a cute little thank you to the Wolfblood fans.
I did miss writing for him.
STICK SEASON - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
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I'm not sure how long I had been sitting out in the forest.
All I could remember was the school day ending and then running off. I wasn't ready to go home yet. I just needed some space. Fresh air.
I would like to think that was a healthy thing to desire at points.
"You need to find more original hiding spots."
I looked over when Rhydian spoke up.
He grinned at me. I just rolled my eyes a bit and turned to look out into the trees again. I heard him sigh and the leaves crunch as he walked over and sat down next to me.
"Wanna talk about it," he asked.
I shook my head. "Just... people."
He seemed to accept the answer for the time being. I moved and leaned my head on his shoulder. I felt his head lean against him.
He always seemed to be able to easily figure out when I was upset. He could always guess the exact moments that I needed him around. I wonder if he could see small signs that I didn't know about or if it was just some instinctual feeling he got.
I guess it didn't truly matter in the end.
Regardless of how he knew to be there, it was nice that he was there.
It was always nicer hiding in the trees than it was being at that school. Not everyone was horrible, but it was all so suffocating. I just needed the fresh air for a while. The calmness that I couldn't get in my normal life.
"We should run away."
I heard Rhydian scoff at me. "Why's that?"
"You ask that like you didn't spend your first few weeks here looking for a reason to run off," I muttered.
"It was not weeks," he replied.
"Yes, it was," I chuckled, moving to look at him. He shook his head.
"You didn't answer my question."
I sighed. "I just feel so... stuck."
"Alright..."
"You... You moved here," I tried to start explaining my thoughts. "I've grown up here. The same places, the same people, the same problems. I... I have always been stuck in this little bubble."
I pushed myself off the ground, turning to look at him.
"I don't get to experience what our lives are supposed to feel like," I motioned between the two of us. "I am just the same scared pup that I've always been! If running away is the only way to shake that feeling..."
I stopped, letting the sentence die without any conclusion.
Rhydian stood up, wiping the leaves off himself.
"Why don't you," he asked. I furrowed my eyebrows for a few moments and tilted my head. "I'm not trying to talk you into it, but you said it yourself, you've been here for a long time. What's keeping you here?"
I paused for a moment before a grin broke out on my face.
"What?"
"I got a bit distracted," I shrugged. His eyebrows furrowed this time. "By you, Rhydian."
"Oh..." he muttered before a smile formed. "Oh."
I chuckled. I walked forward and wrapped my arms around him, hiding my face in his shoulder.
"You make staying feel like it's worth it," I continued, feeling more comfortable knowing that he couldn't see my face for some reason. "All of the garbage and boringness. At least, there's you."
"That's so cheesy," he said before moving to kiss my head as I scoffed at him. "I feel the same way."
I almost complained as he stepped away. He had this little grin on his face. One that was very clearly a silent challenge without any words being spoken.
I was about to ask what he was thinking about before turned around and took off.
"Rhydian!"
He just laughed and kept running.
I ran after him, laughing to myself.
I did often feel stuck. Trapped or bored or locked in some endless time loop. But these moments... moments with Rhydian where I could forget about anything else waiting for us... made that bubble just a bit less suffocating.
To put it simply, he made home feel more like home again.
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#rhydian morris imagine#rhydian morris fanfiction#rhydian morris x reader#wolfblood fanfiction#wolfblood x reader#wolfblood imagine#imagine#fanfiction#x reader
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Gift Basket
Cross-posted on AO3 here: Gift Basket
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Come on Schlatt. He could do this.
Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he was finding this so difficult. This was supposed to be the easy part. Drop the basket off at the front door, turn around, and walk away. That’s all he had to do.
It shouldn’t be this hard. He didn’t care about these people. Didn’t need to sit down, have a chat, or get to know them on a personal level. None of that. Just drop and go.
Come on, Schlatt. Drop the basket and go…
He had done his research. Scoped the place out and knew everything he needed to know about the people inside, no awkward conversation was necessary. That wasn’t easy to do in this day and age. Especially for people like him.
Even now, people walking down the street were staring at him like some sort of circus freak. Nothing but wide eyes and gaping mouths as they passed, making sure they got a good look at him so they could gossip about it later. Even the people in the nearby houses were watching from behind closed shutters and window panes. When some of them saw him turn on them, they looked away nervously, trying to maintain the facade of politeness.
One couple stopped to stare at him from next door. They were being cluelessly blatant about it as well, pointing and whispering behind the back of their hand as if he couldn’t literally see what they were doing. Hell, he could practically HEAR them.
“What’cha lookin’ at,” he growled, shooting them a pointed glare. “It’s almost like you’ve never seen a guy with horns before.”
That seemed to get them to clam up. They grabbed at each other’s shoulders and arms, leaning into each other for support as they turned and hurried off in the opposite direction. That earned him a few more curious looks, but at least he took pride in the fact that he had given that couple a good scare.
“Yeah, well… good riddance.”
That’s what he gets for coming to a human settlement. It’s not like he made any attempt to hide his horns or hooves. They’d probably never seen a satyr like him before. Wait. What was he thinking?! Of course they hadn’t seen a satyr before. No satyr would be dumb enough to bother coming around these parts. Under any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be here either. But his options were extremely limited outside of the Badland territories. This was still somehow the preferable option compared to going back there.
The people in this house, though, they were real schmucks. Absolute wet blankets. The boring kind of people that seem nice and pleasant at first, but were as uninteresting and featureless as a cardboard box. If there was a color to describe them, it would be beige. These people were the living embodiment of beige. However, when you stopped and realized that these people were fae and still managed to pull that off, it made their boringness almost impressive.
Fae weren’t meant to be beige. They were meant to be colorful inside and out. That’s why their magic always had a special glow to it. A tint that was particular to the person who used it.
For instance, his was red. A very deep, respectable red. The kind of red you’d make a tie out of and pair it with a nice suit to leave a good impression. Magic in itself wasn’t one of his forte’s, but he at least knew his color. Could identify the spark inside him. That was probably more than these cardboard cutout excuses for people could manage.
Beige fae. It was so stupid it was laughable.
That was probably the only reason they fit in so well with a bunch of humans. Boring fae to fit in with unimpressive humans going about their daily lives. They were the only non-humans to own a house like this in the general area. It made his own cabin look like a rickety backwoods dog house. It was two stories. Built tall and sturdy from fine stone and actual glass. The front facade was decorated with all the finery expected of a family doing well for itself. Newly painted shutters. A well-tended garden. A fenced-in front porch with a cushioned rocking chair turned out to the road…
It was all so boringly perfect.
His own home was far from any town. He had trudged miles through the snow just to get here.
He didn’t need much. The cabin was a drafty, one-room building with the kitchen, bedroom, and living space all rolled into one. It had been patchworked over the years, covering gaps with wooden boards and stuffing the cracks with spare rags. Oil paper was used in place of glass window panes. And on the colder nights, he covered their openings with spare blankets.
It was just fine for him, but it wouldn’t work well for anyone else.
That’s why he needed these stupid, boring, beige fae that he had never met and their stupid perfect life.
Because he didn’t have one. The perfect life, that is. And he never really wanted it.
The handle of the basket weighed heavily in his palm.
With an extremely tired sigh, Schlatt reached out with his free hand and knocked three times on the front door. He waited awkwardly on the front porch, but nobody came to the door. So he knocked again. And again… And then his patience snapped.
“What lousy-” He reached out and snatched the door handle. It rattled in his grasp but didn’t turn. Of course they would lock the door like responsible adults. So he kicked out with a hoof and left a dent in the bottom of their door.
Just his luck. He picked the day they were away.
It was a nice day out. The basket would probably be fine if he left it on their porch…
With a huff, he slid the handle up his arm until it rested on his shoulder. He could carry it a little longer. Maybe they had left a side or back door unlocked?
The neighbors were still watching as he went down the porch steps. He ignored their pointed stares as he cut through the grass lining the front of the home. They could watch. They could jump to snap conclusions if it meant he didn’t have to leave the damn basket outside.
His heavy hoofsteps tore into the sod as he circled the wall. It wasn’t a desperate enough situation to try one of the windows. They would have been a higher jump than his knees could handle anyway.
The backyard was even more stereotypically perfect than the front. Weren’t townsfolk supposed to live with houses built practically on top of each other? Who even had full yards like this?
At least he could make out a screen door set into the wall on this side of the house. And the patio porch protruding out from it had a full roof covering.
Low and behold, this door was locked to. He had to hand it to the owners of this home, for a couple of squares, they at least had a bit of common sense. That was some sort of silver lining to this situation, he supposed. But that meant he would have to either leave the basket and go, or wait until they came home and give it to them himself.
His lip curled at the thought. He hadn’t exactly been looking forward to them answering the doorbell as it was. He didn’t have much interest in interacting with them at all.
There didn't seem to be anyone back here watching him. He would have noticed them peeking up over fence posts and there were no trees for anyone to climb. Although he would be thoroughly surprised if a human would think to try something like that. They knew he was back here, though. Probably were getting ahold of whatever form of law enforcement this rinky dink backwater town had to offer to come get the 'big bad satyr' who surely was breaking into their neighbor's house by now. They would probably try to arrest him. Confiscate the basket, or worse. They'd kick him out with some sort of ban, too. He had no doubt in his mind that the residents of this home would hear all about it by the time they got here, whether or not he was still there when they got back.
There was too much risk involved with sticking around.
So he put the basket down next to the door. He made sure it was far enough away that it wouldn't get bumped if the door came swinging open later. Didn't want that sort of accident making a mess of things.
Once he was certain that the basket was safe and stable, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out the note. It was crinkled and a little torn from the journey over. The corners of its folds were worn down from being folded open and closed repeatedly. A byproduct of how many times he had read through the message scrawled within. He had written and re-written drafts of this thing more times than he cared to admit. Eventually, he had to call it ‘good enough’ and leave it alone, but there were still a few crossed-out words here and there. Hopefully, these people could read his handwriting.
He smoothed out some of the creases between the palms of his hands. Once the letter was somewhat flat, he lifted the thin blanket covering the basket to slip the note inside.
Immediately, a small, pudgy hand reached out and wrapped its little fingers around the base of his thumb.
The corner of Schlatt’s mouth twitched upwards in something that could arguably be called a smile. “Hey, none of that,” he whispered. “I’ve gotta go.”
The gurgling baby inside only pulled his hand in closer, along with the note. Another hand wrapped around his pinky. The grip was surprisingly firm for something so small.
“Heh… You’re gonna be a tough one. Just like your old man.” Schlatt reached in with his free hand to take the note. The other he allowed the little one to shake with a squeal of glee. The infant pressed his hand against the top of its head. He could feel the thin crown of wispy hair and unblemished skin. The horns wouldn’t come in until the kid was much, much older. It almost looked human bundled up like this.
Big brown eyes took in the world past the edge of the basket. It didn’t take long for the baby to get distracted. It’s little hands let go of Schlatt’s so it could reach up to something above their heads. When Schlatt followed the kid’s gaze, he saw a leaf falling from the edge of the roof.
Gently, he slid the note in alongside the child. It clapped its hands together with a gurgle as he pulled the blanket over the basket once more.
He didn’t want to scare the kid, so he stepped softly across the patio until he was back on the grass. The basket looked so small on that back porch by its lonesome. If he looked carefully, he could even see the edge of the blanket moving.
Schlatt made sure to stalk back out to the front yard for all the world to see him. All those eyes burned into his back as he plodded back down the street the way he came. Surely they were taking note of the fact that he was leaving empty-handed.
Once he was certain he had walked far enough and the onlookers were no longer looking on, he ducked between a couple of shops where he wouldn’t stick out as obviously.
He wasn’t good at magic. He didn’t make a habit of using it. Almost never used it at all. There was little that magic could do that could outperform a bit of quick thinking and hard work. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had tried using it. But right now, Schlatt funneled every red spark he could muster into keeping himself hidden.
It was difficult. It wasn’t easy. It felt like moving a mountain would be simpler than making himself invisible, but he did it. He stepped out of that alley feeling only slightly less than a million bucks and undetectable by even the nosiest of gawkers.
By the time he made it back to the house, there were already neighbors swarming in the front yard chattering like starlings. Thankfully, nobody could see him. He didn’t have to address any of their busy-body gossip. He just had to find a nice spot to sit down and wait across the road.
This vantage point was like a set of front row seats to a sorry excuse for a show. From here, he could watch a handful of armored soldiers being led to the house to play detective. He watched them check the locks. He watched them take statements from the nosy humans who couldn’t mind their own business. He even watched them approach the two fairies who lived there when the couple returned home. It was an overdramatic mess of a scene with shouting and panicked looks. But nothing ever really happened.
He kept watching until everyone but the two fae who lived there left, and the couple eventually made their way around the back of the house.
His heart almost stopped when a small wail reached his ears.
Hooves hit the gravel as he leaped to his feet. Before he could take off towards the side of the house, though, one of the fairies came around the bend cradling the baby in their arms.
Its sobbing was starting to die down as they bounced it and cooed soft words. Little hands reached out to press against their cheek and bat at long hair.
The other fairy came around back carrying the note. They placed it in their pocket as they cupped the back of the infant’s head in their hand.
Schlatt noted that they both had wings tucked beneath their clothes. Only the very edges of filigree wings were visible.
Beige fae. Fae that tried to fit in with humans. It said a lot about the state of the world that this was the best he could find.
So Schlatt turned his back on the newly united family with their nice home and their happy smiles and the little bundle of joy that reached out to them like it had to him. It was time he left.
Because even these sorry excuses for fae would make better parents than he ever could.
#whumptober 2023#prompt no. 24#“Goodbye note”#dream smp#technically#creative writing#spoilers in tags#fantasy racism#abandonment#hard choices#jschlatt#parenthood#alternate universe - fae#adoption
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What the hell, it's almost 2am, I'm up in three and a half hours for Doctor Who. Have some in process framework for a fic it is incredibly likely I do not have the stamina/background/motivation to write. Great therapy to think it up on the drive today, though.
Okay, so. How to turn lemons (hitting a roo with my new car within the first month and less than 2500 km on the odometer, having never hit a roo in my life, and avoiding several, and deer, and a koala, during the same drive) into lemonade (Crowley/Aziraphale fic).
A framework. This is exceptionally rough and missing punctuation, exposition, style, structure, characterization, etc. But there are some buried crystals of perfection, I can sniff out already. Onwards.
It’s the middle of winter, later at night, half ten and a Wednesday. Howling wind and pelting rain and just generally the kind of night you want to be tucked up in bed or at the very least on a couch drinking hot chocolate.
Instead, Aziraphale is once again making the long trek from London out to the cottage. Normally he doesn’t mind the drive, but with weather like this, and after a long day of (whatever he does), he really would rather settle for the couch at someone’s. But the cottage needs checking over and the kids need tending since he told Tracy he’d be back. And so back, he shall be.
He’s very nearly, almost there when the brake lights in front of him blaze and there’s the shredding, screaming, breaking sound of brakes stomped on and wheels turned harshly.
Aziraphale’s too close, he always follows too close when he’s in a rush and he knows these roads so well –
He swerves without thinking and it’s probably the best thing to do and then his life flashes before his eyes – not really, just a sad sort of pang over the boringness of his last day, of Tracy and his friends, who he’ll miss, of his latest novel which really was just about to start to get good. And then everything goes a bit fuzzy and his lip stings and –
He wakes up (if he ever were really asleep) and the radio’s still playing but there’s a ball of white in front of him – the airbag – and gravity is telling him his car’s not quite at the right angle. Clambering out, his feet sink through the puddles and into mud and, squinting with only the light within the car and one headlight to go by, Aziraphale realizes just how buried and banged up his little hatchback is. In a ditch, by the side of the road, to be precise. About ten miles from home.
He huffs to himself and then starts to pat himself down. Aside from a bitten to bloody bottom lip and a faint pain in his back, he seems fine. Which he is thankful for. Far better off than the car which, he can now see, has its front crumpled and at least two tires flattened and sunk into the mud anyhow.
He navigates his way back up the short but steep embankment to the road by following the constant, increasingly angry, stream of: “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUCK!”
There he finds the other car, looking less worse for wear – he can’t even really remember if he hit it – both headlights on and pushing yellow light out across the narrow road from where he’s come to a stop pointing the wrong way and halfway onto the shoulder.
The owner of the voice – tall, slim, red hair that looks bright against a backdrop of so much night, and encased in well-fitting layers of dark clothes – has his hands on his hips as he says it again. “Fuck.”
Then they come up to his head, fingers interlacing and elbows bending together in front of his face as he swears again. “Fucking fuckity fuck.”
“Are you quite alright?” Aziraphale calls as his sodden shoes slip in the mud.
The stranger whirls around like he’d thought he was alone. “Of course I’m alright. How fucking close did you need to get up my arse?”
Aziraphale’s taken aback. Hadn’t this gentleman been the one who breaked, suddenly, on a narrow, dark, wet laneway, and caused the accident? Wasn’t he lucky that Aziraphale was quick-witted enough to swerve? Not that propriety would allow him to point any of that out. “Are you alright, though? No damage?”
That seems to take some of the wind out of the man’s sails. “’m fine, just… FUCK.”
It isn’t the most impressive vocabulary. “Perhaps we can exchange details and – ”
He’s waved off with a dismissive hand and the man disappears around the back of his car (which is facing forward) and into the dense trees beside the road. Aziraphale tries to scurry after him but a particularly sharp press of wind pushes him back.
“Excuse me,” he presses. “But we’ve been in an accident and I will need – “
The man appears, suddenly close to him, imposing but only to raise a finger to his lips and very loudly shush him. Then he stalks off in parallel with the road, back towards the ditch harbouring Aziraphale’s car.
Aziraphale watches him, pause and look around. “If you could perhaps – ” He’s shushed again. “Really, it’s pouring rain and – ” Again, the loud shushing. “Legally you are req – ”
“Shut it.” The spectre, barely more than a silhouette ghost, takes a sharp right and heads into the tree further.
Aziraphale considers cutting his losses, but the car’s not going to get him anywhere (perhaps the car needs a name here) and upon quick inspection of his phone (still intact and only slightly moist in his trouser pocket) he has no coverage here whatsoever. So not only is the stranger who is rapidly getting them lost in the forest legally obliged to hand over his details, but Aziraphale is also depending on him for phone service and/or a lift.
“I really must insist that we get back to the road and discuss this as – ”
This time he isn’t cut off by a shush, rather the man whirls around and very suddenly has wet, tight fistfuls of Aziraphale’s lapels and is stepping in close to the point of their noses almost knocking.
His eyes look entirely black but that’s probably just the cloud-dipped midnight sky being reflected. It occurs to Aziraphale that he’s literally in the grips of a madman in the forest having effectively been run off the road and into a ditch and no one knows he’s here. It’ll take them days to ever realize he’s missing.
Somehow the black stare and tightly knitted brows are too much and Aziraphale drops his gaze, but only so far as the bared teeth, sharp canines, in the sneer of the man’s face as he snarls out, “Shut your bloody mouth.” And then all in a rush, “Just for a minute, I can hear it.”
Aziraphale swallows and it’s audible and that draws a look, although this one is decidedly less murderous and rather more exasperated. The stranger goes deathly still, breath held, and Aziraphale follows suit, at a complete loss as to what they’re doing.
Crowley finds the deer. A doe, small, young, whining and bloody with a leg askew. And he swears a lot more but it had to become cooing and gentle. Aziraphale wants to call animal services, even floats the idea of putting it out of its misery, since at least one leg is so clearly mangled and it’s in so much pain. Crowley bites at him for that.
“Vey, do you know where there’s a vet?”
“I hardly think – ”
“Do you know, or not?”
“There’s one quite close, they won’t be open, but I can call the doctor, if I can get some service on my phone.”
“Done.” Crowley peels off a sodden jacket and holds it out for Aziraphale to take. Then yanks a softer looking sweater over his head, uses it to gather up the small deer, all strength and kindness and goo. And oh, Aziraphale quite likes that side of him. Murderous, bad driving arsehole that he is.
On closer inspection he Bentley’s not entirely okay. Crowley has a moment of relinquishing the deer or letting a stranger drive, and gets Aziraphale into the passenger side, deer grasped, increasingly groggy, on his lap, and then slides into the driver’s side. As soon as they start driving, it’s evident the Bentley is fucked. Crowley’s having to steer hard to the right to keep it going straight, keeping it to under 20 miles an hour, and even then it shudders and swerves.
Aziraphale remarks on this and we get a throwback of “It’ll hold together as long as it needs to, even if it’s just pure bloody will doing it. How is she?”
Aziraphale makes him stop at the top of the hill and calls, wakes, the vet, begs and thanks her for coming in.
They get to the vet and have to sit in silence (because Crowley keeps telling him to shut up, although at least first Aziraphale learns his name) for five minutes, waiting for the doctor.
Doctor shows up, clearly knows Aziraphale (his cottage has a small hobby farm attached, well, really just a paddock and some kennels, and an overgrown garden and orchard, but enough for him to have a small flock of goats, all of them rescues, most high maintenance, most runts and eccentric, and not at all worth the effort.)
She seems a bit shocked at Crowley (he’s shocking) and then more so at the broken deer. Tries to very gently tell him that these things are best taken care of. Otherwise, it’s expensive surgery and rehab and the deer rescues around aren’t really for broken legs, more abandoned young and minor injuries. It’s not like there’s a shortage of deer. (I’m going to have to learn about deer aren’t I?)
Crowley insists and becomes quite a cunt about it which Aziraphale finds interesting. The vet becomes a bit of a cunt, too, because she came in, late on a Wednesday at Aziraphale’s insistence, for nothing. And now this tall, bitchy Londoner is being a dick.
“But you could do that surgery?”
“I mean, I could try. I’m assuming it’s a hip displacement and you haven’t broken any of the major bones.” Crowley sneers at the allocation of blame. “If there are broken bones, I’d need an x-ray to see them and assess them, and I can’t do that without getting a radiologist in, and honestly, if it’s a snapped femur – and It very well could be – then even with x-rays and an orthopaedic surgeon, it’s fifty-fifty survival.”
“In the wild?”
“Through the surgery.”
“Can you get them in, the radiologist and the surgeon?”
“We don’t do this for deer, love – ”
“Yes, or no?”
“Radiologist yes, surgeon, no, but I’m trained, on dogs, anyway. But we’re talking thousands of – ”
“Do it.”
“Crowley, you don’t think – ”
“Do it. I hit her, I’m obliged to do my best to fix her up.”
“Like six grand, minimum.”
“And is that the going rate or are you robbing me blind?”
Both Aziraphale and the vet take afront to that. “Going rate, discount, if somehow you convince Mr Fell to get you on his friends and family discount plan. That’s all the materials and permits and equipment of x-rays, and then anaesthesia. Not to mention insurance. Plus I need to be here, and the radiologist, and at least two nurses because if the x-rays come back with a break and if we decide they’re operable, and if you can cough up the cash, this will likely take several hours.”
Crowley sags. “Yes, fine, sorry I didn’t mean to… Just do it.”
The vet doesn’t trust him and slides her eyes to Aziraphale. “Six grand,” she tells him and it’s clear she means, ‘what if he doesn’t pay’
Aziraphale rings his hands. He doesn’t have six grand handy and even if he did, it’s a broken little deer.
“I’ll prepay eight and trust you to keep me abreast of how much we end up ahead or behind.” And he flashes dark plastic and manages to be a total dick about saving a deer’s life.
“Fifty fifty, even if everything goes right.”
“Just do the best you can, doctor.” All false smarm.
The vet gets to work. Radiologist, three nurses, just in case. The deer sedated and put on fluids before anyone ever turns up. The vet’s wife also appears, sleepy and still in pyjamas with a thick dressing gown over the top and a raincoat on top of that.
At some point, Crowley says, “Right, I need to get back to London,” and disappears, inspects the Bentley, and returns, bellows, “If someone can get my to the train station, I can make the last train.”
One of the nurses, bustling past, laughs and points out the lines are down because of the weather.
“Fuck.”
“We have to work out what to do about the cars,” Aziraphale explains gently, hand on his arm (because oh he likes this crazy, deer-loving, rich stranger a little bit) and then immediately withdrawn when Crowley flinches. “You’ll need to have yours towed, but I can’t imaging anyone venturing out in this when it’s already safely parked here.”
“Well what about yours.”
“Sure its’s fine in its ditch. But I still need you insurance, so we can do this properly. And I need to get home and warm and… and you can wait to hear about the deer there, if you like. You’re positively drenched as well and I’m close by. I have a guestroom you could use.”
Crowley very much looks like any other option would be a better option. But there are none. The vet’s wife drives them.
It’s almost exactly what you’d expect Aziraphale’s cottage t be like. Quaint, cluttered, warm, old. The kids are excited to see him. Crowley visibly brightens to see them and hangs with them while Aziraphale disappears and changes into something warm and dry.
Aziraphale’s makes him take his soaked shoes and socks off at the door. Explains that it’s his cottage mostly during the winter, but during summer it’s rented out, quaintly, to holiday makers, and this last long weekend, he’d also made a little extra money with a couple coming though. “I do hope they left everything as it should be.”
They did. “Tea?”
“Coffee, strong.”
“Instant okay?”
“Yup.”
Crowley collapses back into the chair and they spend a little snipper of time bonding but doesn’t actually discuss the cars which is meant to be the point. Crowley learns about the kids, learns that Aziraphale is a somewhat successful writer (of books on books and also something else but that’s a secret) and then makes ends meet with his house being a holiday home, and freelance bullshit writing for magazines that draws him back to town often enough to keep him hooked in.
Crowley gives an obvious shiver and stares at his phone hopefully.
“How terrible of me! You look like a drowned rat, you must be freezing!”
“Nothing a hot shower and a good rest won’t shift.”
Aziraphale’s face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but there’s no shower.”
“How can there be no shower?”
“I could only fit a shower or a bath and I wanted a bath.”
“Hot bath then.”
“Certainly.”
Another pronounced shiver and Crowley places his coffee cup down with a too-loud, shaking clink.
“Sorry, I should have gotten you out of those clothes as soon as we got here.”
“Very forward of you, but better late than never.” It’s a flirtatious grenade – when did that possibility enter the conversation?
Aziraphale ignores it until not long after, the bath is full and steaming and he has dry clothes for Crowley to change into. “high time we warmed you up.”
“Can think of better ways to warm me up.” (Yes, I seem to be going for the age old, Crowley is a slut and rather happy about it)
Aziraphale flushes bright red. “I really don’t know what you mean.”
“Sex, is what I’m saying. I’m full of adrenaline and it seems we’re cohabitating for the night. You’re clearly as gay as (?) so why not?”
“I hardly think such a shaky foundation merits a one night stand.” And ushers him back into the bathroom.
“Hows about the fact that you’re gorgeous? That a good enough reason?”
Aziraphale laughs and blushes and feels so damned good with it that he’s temped.
Crowley sneezes and Aziraphale pushes him back into the bathroom, leaving clothes and an extra towel in Crowley’s arms as he pulls the door closed between them.
When Crowley emerges, it’s in just a towel, one more attempt at a seduction, and a good fuck if it’s on offer.
And Aziraphale gives in. Because why not. Messy kisses in the bathroom door frame. Until.
“Fuck, yes,” from Crowley, turns to “Fuck, fuck,” in a bad way.
“What?”
“Shit. Is all.”
“What?”
“I… don’t know your name yet.”
“How rude.”
“I know.”
“Aziraphale.”
Crowley doesn’t tease, just tries it on. “Bit of a mouthful.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
…
And the end up in the guest bedroom (neater, and I don’t need to change the sheets out after guests.” Crowley grunts approval as they tumble back and have some fun.
They’re still just making out when Crowley’s phone rings and he tries to pull back and Aziraphale tries to stop him. Crowley pulls him off with a hand in his hair, rough, and Aziraphale loves that but Crowley’s genuinely being forceful. “Stop it, that’ll be the vet.”
And it call comes crashing back in for a bit until Crowley’s face is awash with such joy.
“Out of surgery and anaesthesia. Groggy but an overwhelming success. She still thinks I’m batshit for spending that much of a fucking deer.”
“I’m very, very pleased to hear it.”
Crowley’s eyes narrow and then he realizes. “You’re not mocking me.”
“Of course not, you clearly care, and it’s an admirable thing to care about. Though it is an obscene amount of money to be throwing around. You’ll have a queue of the goats out their tomorrow, wanting their own personal bequests for surgeries.”
Cue Crowley delivering a very life-affirming, very impressive blowjob.
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controversial opinion i suppose but i do not understand the backlash to those like, very boring-looking beige or greyscale children's toys that are meant to fit into an "aesthetic" because the criticism always is just like "woooaaw this person's child has toys in BORING COLOURS!!!! what a terrible fate for that child to see colours i have associated with boringness" because like.... at the end of the day it's a toy and it works fine and there's no reason to assume it's terrible and nonfunctional and the child hates it, because ultimately kids usually aren't as hung up on the colour symbolism of their belongings as adults are. which we know from the way in which we gender colour. and i really don't understand how the same people who will fight tooth and nail arguing that pink and blue are just colours will be like screaming crying throwing up trying to tell me a beige room is basically psychological torture for a kid. like. it's a room. it's a room that you think is a boring colour. the kid does not care anymore than they cared about being dressed in the "correct" gendered colour-- if they do, it's because you told them they should!
if the kid is even capable of caring! if they're an infant like just got born cannot speak barely moves spends all day eating and sleeping and, CRITICALLY, does not care about colours- exactly how is it bad for the adult who is decorating the room to want it to match their carefully designed house. of course you have to account for a child's wants and needs in your life, but like. a child does not come out with a favourite colour or type of toy. IF the child got older and requested a new paint job and the parents said no on the grounds of ruining the aesthetic, THEN we can have a conversation about damage to children and depriving them of autonomy and individuality but shockingly nobody on earth consults an infant when they are painting their room. and it just seems weird to read in all this stuff about the family dynamics and how the child feels when you don't know any of that and all you know is that their room is beige.
& to me taking issue with a child not having colourful belongings rather than like, asking how much autonomy the child is given over their own life given the way in which their parents are clearly so devoted to image makes the critique so shallow and makes this kind of parental control associated with beige aesthetics rather than... how much control the parent actually exercises over their children. a thing that is not at all exclusive to beige colour-coded parenting! parents are often, knowingly or unknowingly, more devoted to keeping up appearances than caring for their children properly. we live in a society that is obsessed with appearances. how exactly is it shocking or off the wall that this would eventually result in beige bedroom instagram moms, and MORE IMPORTANTLY, explain to me how that is meaningfully different from your average suburban house devoted to keeping up appearances. explain to me how "colours i associate with boringness and plainness" is causally linked to "unhappy child"
like i just feel we're focusing on the wrong thing here. this is a beige herring. we need to make family vlogging a child labour violation
#good idea generator#sorry for this long post but every time i see a post or vid or whatever about it i am always like. WHAT is the issue here#why are we assuming the beigeness is the cause#clearly none of you think you can be born liking beige considering how strongly you react to a child being exposed to it#so don't you think there might be some social pressures and expectations at work here#ones that probably directly impact a child much more than the colour of their room. food for thought#this is not meant to be a vague i did see a post abt this on the dash but i also see one like once a week#and the jokes are funny sometimes. so i do not begrudge anyone making fun of a beige room#i just finally collected my thoughts on it and why i don't get it
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So, what do you imagine Lucas and Max in the future?
Oohh good question !!!
Something I’m desperate to talk about and think up ideas for is how the ST characters would be in modern day. Max and Lucas currently would be 50/51. I think they’d be married by now. Lucas I feel like would probably be a science professor, like at a university level or maybe he’d be a writer. Either a non fiction writer or sci-fi writer. Max I’m a bit more unsure about. I could see her having a simple job like working at super market or shop or something since I honestly feel like she seems like the type to prefer doing what she’s passionate about as hobbies instead since it would be more freeing and just treating a job as just a way to make a living. I could see her possibly running a video game or comic shop or maybe even being a radio show host since I think music would become a very big part of her life after the Vecna incident. I really can’t see her working any sort of corporate job, I think she’d get too pissed off at her boss, the way all that fucking “trickle down economics” shit works & overall sheer boringness of it. She and Lucas strike me as the type to not “grow out of” their nerdy interests and would probably just kind of evolve with them. I can see Max (and Lucas) still being into video games and Lucas still liking DnD but in a more adult way if that makes sense. Like they’d be one of those cool older nerds in town that like the some of the same stuff as the kids around do as well as being around for the big boom in nerd culture which the younger people would find super cool and interesting as apposed to like, those nerds that never grew up and try to still act young when they clearly aren’t. Also this is really random but for some reason I’ve had this headcanon that they’d both be into Gorillaz for ages. Idk why exactly but it just makes perfect sense to me lol.
#this is so rambly sorry lmao#lumax#stranger things#lucas sinclair#max mayfield#st4 spoilers#asks#anon#headcanons
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Nothing like the sweet satisfaction of being on vacation in Italy and finally figuring out the secret to the locked garbage sorting bins on the street so that I can download the app and sort my garbage like a good citizen. The greatest achievement I’ve made as a tourist in Tuscany all week.
It occurred to me, while I was puzzling it out, was that maybe they make it this way because they think people who don’t put in the effort to figure it out are probably not going to sort their garbage properly anyway…? Or at least this is a side effect, whether intended or not.
I’m in Arezzo for a few days, presently. I was last here for a month or so abroad as an undergrad… like 15 years ago. But I didn’t have a good chance to actually explore the city because I was busy with the summer program, it took a long time to get over the jet lag, and then it got hot, and then the hills…!! Because the little school is a half hour walk from the city center, on roads that to this day do not have sidewalks/space for pedestrians. Just you, and the cars, and a tiny road…
I really like Italy.
I really like that the first hotel I stayed at in Florence, near the airport, the staff were straight up using shopping carts to move towels and toiletries etc. I liked the smell of the room, from the material of the building perhaps, which was old but not musty. I liked watching people watching at breakfast and how everyone, including this group of guys, used napkins to hold their pastries, and one fellow downed like three over the course of breakfast, and they were busy making toasted sandwiches with the breakfast spread.
I like that life seems interesting and lively here. Unlike in Germany, where I have been for a year, which is fine, and pleasant. But somehow! Boring. I don’t understand how the boringness can permeate the atmosphere so completely… It is possible that anywhere can become boring given time and familiarity, such as in the rural areas around here in Italy. But golly is Germany boring nonetheless. This was true the day my plane landed, and has been true ever since. Even the Christmas markets started feeling the same after a while…
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A thing. But which thing? I'll take any thing.
I want to live my life for the sake of being happy and not caring. But I also want people to not look down on me and to think I’m smart and be impressed with me. I don’t even know why, because it’s not like people give a fuck about me anyway. I can do my makeup or not, dress up or not, be smart or not, and it isn’t really the fact that they don’t give a fuck, so why do I cling on to the concept of seeming minorly intelligent like it’s the one thing I might halfway succeed at? I’ll never be pretty or skinny or funny or likable and I never was, but I used to be somewhat smart, or at least other people thought so, but now I’ve lost most of that. But I can’t let it go, because it was the one thing people used to even slightly care or like about me. Even if just a sliver. I want to let it all go. I want to be that one extreme. I want to not care and do some dumb shit with my life that at least can attempt to make me happy even if people think I’m 100% an idiot. I want to care about something. I want something to matter to me. I want to stop feeling like I’m just moving through each day. I want to have something that fulfills me. Even if it’s a stupid thing. I just want a thing. And the only thing that seems obtainable or feasible for me is some sort of mild success in my career, because I know every other thing is far out of reach. But this thing isn’t working for me. But everything else is not working for me so much harder, that this seems like my closest shot. Maybe I can force myself into this extreme of discipline and success and drive. It used to be foreseeable for me. Now nothing seems foreseeable. Not this or the other things. But I need to pick a thing and try. All I can do is try. Deep down a part of me – that’s realistic, not pessimistic – knows that this is my life and it isn’t changing. I know there’s those people that sound ridiculous and overdramatic saying their lives won’t get better, but I know mine won’t because I’m stagnant and stubborn and incapable of making change. Any time I’ve mustered up the courage to try my efforts have failed, anyhow. And I’ve just given up on them. And even if I try again, the outcomes are always the same. My life is going to be this endlessness of nothing and no change and no fulfillment and the same boringness, just trying to fill the time. Just trying to feel okay and not 100% shitty. There will be nothing big or new exciting that has any real meaning to me. I know it has to be my fault, and I’m not just the unluckiest person on earth, but I can’t figure it out. Time and time again I acknowledge that I’m the problem but I’m incapable of figuring out what that problem is and how to fix it, which is the real reason I’ve given up – I don’t know what to change. I don’t know what to change about myself and/or in my life.
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I don’t really have anything to say
To the world
Or even to myself
There is nothing to say.
I don’t have words to express the utter nothingness that life seems to be these days
Days on end of just living, breathing, waiting to die.
Depressing
But I’ll be damned if I am going to Pollyanna it up just to put on a show for others (or even myself).
Drum up diversion, excitement, chaos, gossip
Anything but the boringness of time passing …
Time passing is time passing …
I’m stuck in the middle of it
Is it boredom?
I’m tired of making things up …
I’d rather let things be.
And then the Pneuma
Passed over the great void of Nothingness
Bringing it to life.
Like a whisper.
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OKAYYYY!!! round em up boys its happening again. i have a crush on the worst possible person i could have a crush on. my MANAGER!!! and as it always goes, i am following in my sisters footsteps. but i can only dream of sleeping with this man... surely he wouldnt come onto me? but if i was flirty, he might, right? or it could just make things awkward. surely he’s just friendly like this with everyone. but i know everyone in that place likes me, im the only pretty girl theyve probably had in there for a while. fkn hell. day 2 and im already curing my boredom with an inappropriate crush. tbh i was attracted to him the moment we met at my interview. i really, really, really, hope i can sleep with this man. ahahahahahhahahaha wtf that wont ever happen. or will it? lol. lol. hes so hot. hes not even hot. hes just tall and tatted... and sweet, and an over explainer, and so... sweet? like in a naive way. hes older than me, but hes just kinda stuck with this job since he was a teen. he hasnt done work in an environment besides this one. and its cute to see that when he doesnt realise little things, whilst simultaneously being incredible at what he knows. wtf. im completely smitten. hes your MANAGER. ughughugh. good distractions from the boringness of the store. bless though, he seems so anxious about how busy it gets, but i think my first job was such a hot mess all the time that ive just gotten used to chaos. this is busy too, but its not 10 things to be worried about at every moment. this is more like... 4 or 5 at most. anyway. check back in with this budding obsession next week since he and i will be working together on wednesdays now xxx
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You beat the game while (III)
You have a vibrator inside you that your boyfriends’ control
In this video
In this video (I)
In this video (II)
In this video (III)
In this video (IV)
In this video (V)
In this video (VI)
In this video (VII)
You beat the game while (I)
You beat the game while (II)
You beat the game while (III) (You are here)
Warnings: vibrators, mean boyfriends, punishment, degradation kink.
A/n: This story is short, but Listen… I need to get used to writing 1,000 words again. I’m so used to the other writings being 500 words for each character that this was hard af to write. I need to get my creative juices running again. I kinda want to make a second part of this showing how they punish the reader, let me know what y'all think.
It was not your fault. Dream’s attitude had rubbed off on you. The cockiness was transmittable. You don’t even know how to explain what compelled you to be a brat for the entire day. You had been making cocky remarks to your boyfriends all day. They were sick of the way you were acting, and with the cockiness that blinded you through the day, you decided to take up o a challenge Sapnap gave you. Not noticing the way his demeanor had changed when he challenged you. His eyes were dripping with anger and dominance. You naïve as ever didn’t even realize what he was implying until you found yourself naked from the waist down wetness dripping into George’s gaming chair as a pretty blue vibrator sat nicely inside of you while the other rested nicely on your clit. Your heart pumped nervously while your hand shook ever so slightly at the simple pressure provided to your clit. You waited for the Minecraft world to charge; the boys sat behind you simply waiting for the best time to torture you.
You moved George’s character around the screen doing the basics. Getting wood, going into a cave, but somehow everything was much scarier when you knew your three boyfriends were behind you with the desire of seeing your cocky stupid little mouth get shut up. After a few minutes, you were seriously getting bored of this stupid challenge. They were doing absolutely nothing. You groaned at the boringness of walking through the nether trying to find anything at all.
“So much for a fucking challenge” The words left your mouth before you even realized what you were saying. You were quick to try to stutter an apology, but the sudden buzz of the vibrators took you off guard. A yelp leaving your mouth involuntarily at the sudden rush of pleasure.
“What happened to that big talk you were giving a few seconds ago?” George’s mean voice spoke through the room followed by a wheeze from Dream. George barely got involved with the whole punishment thing, but you must have pissed him off enough to get a look at his dominant side. A whine left your lips, but you stood strong your hands shaking on the keyboard as you tried to get to the fortress. However, Sapnap was practically drooling to see you break in front of him. He watched your face contour into pleasure trying to get as much stimulation as you could from the vibrator barely making you feel good. He smirked as he saw you finally get to the blaze spawner; his eyes shining with a glint of maliciousness as he used his phone to up the vibration that resounded between your walls. A moan left your mouth your hands spasming on the keyboard at the rush of pleasure that filled your body. Your head rolling back as you tried to get a breath of air, but Dream had other ideas snatching the remote control from George and upping the vibrations on your poor swollen clit. They mercilessly watched you fight against your own body trying to continue the game, but it seemed impossible with the way your eyes were rolling back involuntarily. Resulting in George's character walking off to lava and dying immediately as you were too fucked out to even notice what happened. However, they only laughed at your frustrated situation opting to increase the vibrations to teach you exactly why you shouldn’t be cocky around them. Moans lefts your mouth freely as you felt a bubbling sensation burning its way slowly and just as you thought that you would get the sweet relief the vibrations stopped. You whined looking at your boyfriends, but you found the meanest look on their faces.
“Brats don’t get to cum. Should’ve thought of that before being so cocky baby” George’s accent sounding even thicker as the rush of lust ran through his veins. You whined trying to make pitiful excuses to get them to take pity on you, but you knew they would end up giving you the rest of your punishment in the depths of the night.
Taglist
@dreamerwasfound
@reallydecaffeinatedcat
@victory-is-here
@mamacitabitches
@it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys
@omegaalol
@queennightsetz
@lovelybonesetc
@ayarukiie
@simply-chillin-here
@valmtyn
@queennightsetz
@omegaalol
@starjane312
@alilcloudy
@itsroomilk
@chaoticotaku
@flirtyhyuck
@dreamslittlebitch
#dream team#dream team x reader#dream team smut#dream smp smut#dream x reader#dream x you#dream smut#dreamwastaken#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken smut#george smut#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound smut#sapnap x y/n#sapnap x reader smut#sapnap smut#sapnap x reader#sapnap#georgenotfound
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