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#the feeling of people realizing what her past looks like
lovifie · 4 hours
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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.
CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷
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It's not his fault, it's yours. 
He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 
But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 
It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 
During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 
Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.
But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”
He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 
Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 
He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 
More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 
But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 
He missed you. 
He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 
Maybe.
“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 
He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 
But he sees you.
The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 
Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 
“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”
You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 
“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 
“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”
There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.
“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”
“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 
He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 
This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 
But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 
And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 
“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.
And he knows it's you. 
It gotta be. 
And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.
“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 
He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”
“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 
“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 
“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”
“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 
And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 
The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.
Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 
Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 
And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 
The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.
“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”
To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.
And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 
Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 
And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 
Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 
And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 
And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.
Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 
He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 
The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 
And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 
The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 
Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 
You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 
“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 
A son.
He had a son. 
He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 
He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.
And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.
He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.
The happiest night of his life. 
He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 
And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 
Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 
His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 
So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it. 
And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 
“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”
Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 
“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”
“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 
More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 
But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 
“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”
The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 
“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”
And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 
“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”
And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 
You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”
You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 
“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 
He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 
“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.
“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.
“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 
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Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 
Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 
“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”
He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.
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@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt 
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jeridandridge · 14 hours
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For Lovers At Night pt 1
Melissa meets someone that makes her reevaluate her marriage and life choices. Part 1
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Melissa Schemmenti is miserable. Sitting at her kitchen table mindlessly flipping through a book her eyes catch the gold band on her finger. Joe had promised her when they first got married he would get her a diamond as soon as they got money. That was twenty years ago. She thinks back to before she got married, how carefree and happy she was. She spent her free time in clubs, bars, and artists dens, meeting whoever she wanted and most importantly being a mysterious woman that did whatever she wanted.
Sitting at the table she closes the book and stands up knowing Joe won’t be home for dinner anyway. Heading through the house she goes to their rarely shared bedroom and opens the closet door. Pushed to the side of the closet sits an old leather jacket she hasn’t worn since… god she can’t remember. Most likely since she and Joe got back together the last time.
Running her hand along the tough leather a small smile spreads across her lips as memories are brought back to her. The last time she wore it she opted on the back of a gorgeous woman’s motorcycle and flipped Joe off as they rode off into the night together.
That feels like a life time ago now.
Pulling the jacket out she slips it on and fluffs her hair looking in the mirror. She notes the crows feet by her eyes, the way her freckles are more prominent now in her forties. Looking at her hand she flexes her fingers for a moment. Taking a breath she slowly slides her wedding ring off setting it on the dresser.
When Melissa gets in her car she’s not sure where she’s going, but she knows she’s going into the city. Somewhere alive and lit up. Sticking her hand out the window as she drives she moves her fingers along the chilly night air, her ring finger bare for the first time in many years feels weightless against the wind. She can’t help but smile to herself, something she realizes is happening at random.
Driving through the busy streets she goes to an old haunt of hers not even knowing if it’s still open or not. In an old building on one of the bustling streets of Philly sits an old bookshop, The looking Glass, one that she went to many times in her college days and even after. Pulling up she beams seeing the store still there and the open sign on. She could go for a fireball hot toddy and a new book tonight.
Going up to the door a whiff of fresh books and coffee hit her, throwing her right back to her college days. Walking inside everything’s the same. The hot drink section with its bar behind it, the small counter on the opposite side holding the register and other little items for purchase, multiple seating areas, and of course the shelves and shelves of books so cramped together that if it were any other place it would be a problem. Melissa feels at home.
Walking past people she glides through the rows of books looking around and getting lost in her little chunk of paradise she hasn’t had in so long. Across the establishment behind the bar, you nudge your friend nodding towards the row of books the gorgeous redhead is standing near.
“Just your type. Good luck with that one.” He pats your shoulder as he goes to the back room. Looking across the room with a smirk on your lips you watch the redheaded stranger reach up for a book, her hair cascading down her back in waves. She was beautiful.
Across the room Melissa turns around book in hand, flipping through the pages as she walks up to the bar not bothering to look up until she’s standing right in front of you. “Hi, what can I get for ya?”
Melissa looks up with a friendly smile playing with the spine of the book she found. “Can I get a fireball hot toddy, hon?”
“Name for the order?” You ask moving around the work area, black warm cup in hand.
“Melissa.”
“Melissa, I’ve never seen you in here before.” You smile writing her name on the cup in gold flowy letters.
Setting the book down on the counter so she can open her purse, Melissa shrugs. “I haven’t been here in a long time.”
“I figured. I’d remember someone like you.” You smile making the drink and sliding it on the counter.
Melissa catches the comment and the way you’re looking at her, and feels a warmth spread through her. “I doubt it, hon.” She chuckles handing the money over for her drink.
“If you need another or just wanna have a riveting conversation, I’ll be here.” You gesture to the counter with a laugh.
Melissa looks at your name tag with a smile.
“Thanks, hon. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Moving across the room with her drink and book in hand Melissa sits on a sofa near a dim lamp, just far enough to glance up every so often to the woman behind the bar. Sipping her drink the warmth from the alcohol spreads through her chest giving her a comforting feeling she hasn’t felt in a long while. The woman behind the counter is stunning, and something about her eyes made Melissa feel something deep within her that she can’t place just yet.
Eventually, she gets lost in her book and before she knows it she’s more than halfway through it and the woman from the bar is gently tapping her arm.
“Melissa, we’re closing up.” You hum with a soft smile.
The bar is quieter now, people are heading out and the main lights are on. Melissa looks around the bar and begins to gather her things. “Sorry, I got lost there.” She chuckles.
“Don’t apologize, I would too if I were reading Jane Rules greatest love story,” you smile.
“You’ve read it?” She asks curiously.
“I have, it was a big deal for me in high school.”
“So when, last year?” Melissa teases making you laugh in return.
“No, more like fifteen or so years ago.” You hum. “Something about an older woman breaking free of a metaphorical cage and finding herself with the help of a wild younger woman always intrigued me.” You admit with a smile. “Let me buy it for you.” You offer.
“I can’t let you do that, hon.” Melissa shakes her head.
“Sure you can. I own the place, I can do what I want.”
Melissa looks at you in awe. You looked so young yet here you were with a business and a personality wise beyond your years. Before she can say anything else you’re already wiping down the coffee table with a rag.
“Wow. It really has been a long time since I’ve been here.” Melissa sighs. “Thank you, for the book and the environment.”
“You don’t need to thank me, just come in more often.” You smile.
And that’s what she does.
The next night Melissa makes sure her hair and makeup are to the nines, her jeans are tight, her nails are painted, and she may or may not spray on an extra shot of perfume. Standing in front of the mirror she fluffs her hair once more and takes a breath.
“Where are you going all dressed up?” Joes voice sounds from the bathroom, a rare thing now.
“Barb talked me into a book club.” She offers with ease. He still hadn’t noticed her wedding ring was off and he didn’t ask any questions- just how she liked it.
“That sounds nice. Have a good time.” He says closing the door.
It doesn’t take long for Melissa to grab her keys and make her way to The Looking Glass. Walking through the door there are more people than the night before given the fact it’s a Saturday night. The redhead can’t help but frown, a pang of sadness hitting her as she makes her way in and doesn’t see the woman from the night before.
Slipping through the crowd she gets to the bar looking up at the menu despite being ready to order her wine.
“Melissa!”
Across the floor near the back doorway the mysterious woman from last night appears.
“Hi, hon.” She lets out with a giddy grin, her heart leaping in her chest as you beckon her over with the wave of your hand. “I didn’t think you were here.”
“I’m always here.” You chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” You admit with a smile as you lean against the side of the bar.
“Why’s that?”
“I dunno,” you shrug. “I overthink too much I guess.”
“Yeah, I know the feelin.”
“Come with me, I want your opinion on something.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.
Gently taking the younger woman’s hand Melissa feels her cheeks heat up at the simple touch. Walking to the back hand in hand she can’t help but feel butterflies in her chest.
“So it’s dark and cold now,” you start flicking a single hanging lightbulb on, “but I’m planning on expanding the sitting area to here. Less storage, but more room for pretty girls to browse through the books.” You smirk.
Melissa tips her chin up with a matching smirk meeting your eyes. “Do you flirt with all your customers this way?”
“No, I can’t say I do. Just the one I find incredibly beautiful.”
Smile not faltering, Melissa ducks her head realizing your hands are still entwined together.
“Careful, I might think you’re interested in me.” She chuckles lightly.
“And if I am?” You smile.
“I think,” Melissa whispers, her ringless hand still in the woman’s, “I’d like that.”
Everything Melissa knows goes out the window when she sees the look in your eyes. She thinks of all the shit Joe has put her through the last twenty years and how she can be happy if she allows that for herself. It’s what she desperately wants.
“I can’t stay long tonight, but I’d really like to talk to ya while I’m here.” She offers with a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you can that is.”
“I can,” you smile. “Come with me.”
As Melissa is lead through the back room once again she gently squeezes the woman’s hand as they get to the office in the back of the building. It’s simple, a desk, a large couch, and of course a couple bookshelves.
“Make yourself at home,” you offer letting your hand slip away from the redheads, fingers brushing as you go to the small fridge in the corner. “Do you like wine?”
“It’s usually my go to. I bet you have the really good stuff.”
“I do, but this is regular stuff.” You chuckle taking out the chilled bottle. “I’ll have to break the good stuff out another night.”
“Already thinking about seeing me again?” Melissa grins watching her hands move. The lust she felt for the woman was something she’d not felt in her marriage in over ten years and she forgot how much she missed the warm feeling.
“Not to scare you off, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night.” You admit handing her a glass of wine.
“Trust me, hon it takes a lot to scare me off.” Melissa was terrified of what she was doing, but she didn’t need to share that.
“Interesting.” You grin into your own glass. “You seem really mysterious, Melissa.”
“Private mostly,” the redhead shrugs. She’d always been private. Her family and connections were usually all she needed in her life, it even took a full year at Abbott Elementary before she let her best friend, Barb, into her life and that was ten years ago.
“So if I gave you my phone number could I expect a call from a restricted number?” You joke.
“No,” Melissa smiles fishing the device out of her purse, unlocking it before she hands it over. “It’ll be just a number.”
Taking the phone in your palm you type your number in followed by your name handing it back after you hit save.
“I haven’t done this in a long time.” Melissa chuckles nervously, so uncharacteristic of the hard exterior she presents.
Sipping your wine you lick your lips setting the glass down. “Someone hurt you pretty good didn’t they?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Melissa offers thinking of Joes cheating and lack of presence. “I’m kinda gettin over it though.”
“Well, whoever they are, I feel sorry for them.” You smile as the redhead finishes her wine.
Melissa can’t help but duck her head a bit at that. “Thanks, hon.”
“Tell me about them,” you prompt leaning back in your seat.
Melissa sobers up immediately at the question. How could she tell a practical stranger, one she was incredibly attracted to, but still a stranger none the less, that she hated her husbands guts and wanted out before she got any older?
“If I answer you have to tell me something important about you.” She shoots back.
“Deal,” you nod with a smile.
“I-“ Melissa breathes out unsure of where to start, “My ex husband made me miserable. He cheated, rarely came home, expected all the cliche housewife cliche things.” She shrugs through the lie. Yes it was a lie, but not entirely.
“What an idiot.” You shake your head unable to break eye contact with the woman. There was something behind her eyes that you couldn’t yet place, but would soon find out.
“How did you buy this place?” Melissa asks breaking the tension.
“It was left to me. I started working here when I turned eighteen and I’ve been here ever since.” You smile. “The original owner helped me out a lot in college and when she retired, she sold ir to me cheap.”
“That’s amazing,” Melissa smiles. “I always loved it here and I’m happy to see it’s the same.”
“I do my best to keep it up and get more people in here. As much as I love talking about my job, what do you do?”
“I teach second grade.” She offers. During your back and forth, Melissa keeps that same look in her eyes and it only changes when she says she has to leave. It changes from whatever it was before to sadness.
“Let me walk you to your car?” You ask hopefully.
“Yeah, hon. I’d like that.”
Getting up you rest your hand on her lower back as you two walk out to the main part of the building and out the front door.
“That’s it there?” You ask with a laugh spotting a black two door truck.
“That’s me.”
“You get more and more interesting.” You grin as Melissa unlocks the truck. “I hope I hear from you soon.”
“You will, hon.” Melissa smiles while she climbs in.
“Drive safe.” You offer with a nod, settling your hands in your back pockets as you watch the truck drive off into the busy night. Turning around you go back into the bar with a smile knowing you met someone special.
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onceuponapuffin · 3 days
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Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!
Beginning|| Previous || Next
It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.
As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.
“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”
“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”
Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.
“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”
“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”
Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.
At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.
And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’
So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.
You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.
THAT BEING SAID
You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.
The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.
It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.
“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”
“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.
“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”
“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”
“Trying is the key word there.”
“That’s true enough I suppose.”
The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.
“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”
“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.
“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.
“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”
“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.
“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”
“Yes, quite.”
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, Crowley?”
“You’re my angel. No one else.”
“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”
The shop bell dings.
“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”
When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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promise-you-doie · 19 hours
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J. Jaehyun | Coming Home
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After hitting a dead end in your job search, you reluctantly return home to stay with your mom. However, fate has other plans as you unexpectedly cross paths with an old flame. Sparks fly as you navigate the complexities of past feelings and present circumstances, reigniting a passionate connection that refuses to be ignored.
Jaehyun x reader (Exes to lovers)
6k words
Fluff, Angst, Suggestive.
Playlist
As a little girl, you had this idyllic vision of what your adult life would be like. You thought by the time you entered your 20s, you would have graduated from college and easily walked into your dream career. But now, as an adult, you're confronted with the harsh realities of life. You only have $300 to your name, a coupon for a free pizza from your go-to pizza place, and a tech degree that seems to be of no use. To make matters worse, you've ruined your credit during your college years, and you've just ended a three-year relationship. It feels like everything is against you, and the only choice you have is to go back to your hometown to stay with your mom until you get back on your feet.
Leaving Los Angeles was hard enough, but landing in Connecticut felt like a blow to your pride. Everything looks the same as when you left, and the people haven't changed much either. You want to drop down to your knees and cry when you realize that this is where you're going to be for the next few months of your life. But you still have some dignity left in you, so you grab your luggage and try to compose yourself as you walk towards the pickup section to wait for your mom.
Blinking back tears, you inhale a deep breath and pull out your phone. You wait patiently as your phone searches for service in the area. When the service finally sets in, your phone blows up with 70 different alerts: two calls from your best friend, Joy, and three text messages from her telling you to have a safe trip and to keep your head up.
Six missed calls from your ex-boyfriend and seven text messages from him begging you to talk to him.
51 emails from the various job search sites that you signed up with and one singular text message from your mom.
Mom: Hey! I won't be able to make it. But don't worry, I'll have Jaehyun come pick you up. Can't wait to see you!
As if on cue, a familiar black 2015 Toyota Corolla pulls up right in front of you, and none other than Jung Jaehyun gets out of the car.
"This has to be a joke." You breathe, your shoulders raising as you do so.
He smirks the second he lays eyes on you, "Wow you haven't aged a bit."
You wish you could say the same about him, he'd grown a lot more mature since you last saw him. He wasn't the 18-year-old boy you were once head over heels for. He was way taller; he grew his hair out, and you could tell that he started hitting the gym.
"Why are you here?" You look up at him with folded arms.
He doesn't take you seriously. He never did. "Sorry, I'm late." He chuckles and takes your suitcase from beside you to load it in the back of his car.
Once he finishes his first task, he walks back around to open the door for you, gesturing to the passenger seat with both arms and a smile that you wish you could hate.
"I'm not getting in the car, Jaehyun." You remain in your spot, arms still folded over your chest.
"No?" He asks condescendingly.
You repeat, "No." Firm on your feet.
"Well, I guess. I'll see you there then." You watch him close the door and walk to the driver's side without sparing you a look. He starts the car and drives away, leaving you with two options.
You could chase after him and embarrass yourself, or you could remain stubborn and just call an Uber.
You choose to chase the car after realizing that the phone that you would use to call an Uber was sitting in the back of his trunk.
He watches you run after him from his rearview mirror; he slows down but refuses to stop until you were banging on the side of the window, begging him to stop. He got a thrill out of this, and you could tell.
"Did you change your mind?" He teases
Physically, Jaehyun was a completely different person; he grew up, well, you'll admit that. But personality-wise? He hadn't changed at all. He was still the same sarcastic asshole you met in high school.
You mutter, "I don't have my phone." As you slide into the passenger seat, out of breath. You subtly look around, taking notice that the car still smells the same way you remembered it; it was just cleaner now. Sooner or later, your eyes dart to the back seat, and Jaehyun chuckles when you do.
"So what's L. A like?" He asks suddenly, one hand on the steering wheel and the other draped over his thigh.
"It's fun and different. My boyfriend helped to introduce me to a lot of new things." You purposely mention your (ex) boyfriend just to see his reaction.
To your dismay, his reaction is as simple as none. He only asks, "How will long-distance work out for you? It didn't seem to work with us."
"We'll do fine." You say, trying to sound confident.
The car falls silent for a few moments before he starts up a new conversation. "I'm glad you're back."
The statement seems taunting, even if you know that's not how he means it. You always dreamt of moving away to a big city where no one knew who you were, and now that you're back home, it just feels like you are a failure.
"I'm not staying for long." You gaze out of the window.
"Since you're back in town, we should hang out sometime," he suggests, sneaking glances at you.
"I didn't come back to see you."
"Suit yourself, but remember I'm always just a phone call away."
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As you step into the familiar house, you can't help but notice that everything looks the same. Though your mom has rearranged some things, the overall feel is still the same. She's standing at the counter, wearing her favorite white robe and sipping on a glass of wine. Even she looks the same, and you can't help but wonder if the past five years have been stuck in time.
Your thoughts are interrupted when Jaehyun speaks up from behind you, offering to take the bags upstairs. You're about to protest when your mom pulls you into a warm hug, rocking you back and forth. "Oh, my baby, I missed you so much," she coos, holding your face in her hands. "Have you been skipping meals?" She asks, eyeing you closely. When you shake your head, she mutters disapprovingly, "I hope you didn't start one of those stupid L.A diets." You hear Jaehyun snicker from behind you, but you can't break free from your mom's grip to glare at him.
"No, mom." You mutter shamefully like a middle schooler who just got through a scolding.
"We've got to fatten you up." She pinches your cheeks before she lets you go. Oh, you and Jaehyun should go try out the taco place down the street." Your mom swings her index finger between you and your ex-boyfriend. "They opened it up after you left. It's amazing, and the staff there is amazing, too."
You open your mouth to speak, but Jaehyun beats you to it. "I think she'd rather the tacos in L.A" he says as he stands beside your mom, looking down on you in a way that feels degrading. The only thing you can do is wonder when they got so close.
Your mom has always liked Jaehyun, but it seemed like she adopted him after you left. If you look close enough, you might find similarities in their facial features.
"Jaehyun probably has other things to do. Why don't we just go instead? It's been a while since it was just you and me." You waltz over and loop your arm around your mom's right arm. Opposite side of where Jaehyun was standing
"Or we could all go out together." Suggests, Jaehyun with a grin so big you could see his dimples.
Your mom's face glows at the thought as she pushes you aside. "That sounds like a wonderful Idea."
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"How was your flight?" Joy's voice comes through the speaker of your phone while you prop it up against your old desk. You slide back in your seat to start your face care while simultaneously talking to her.
"Long, it should be illegal for infants to fly on a plane." You mutter, slapping the moisturizer on your face and rubbing it in circles along your cheeks.
Joy gets closer to the camera just to say, "That's harsh," but she doesn't bother to try to hide her laugh.
"Okay maybe not illegal, but there should at least be a secluded area for parents flying with newborns, or you know… just kids who still cry." You drag out the last part when you get closer to the mirror and run your index finger along the new pimple you have growing in.
"Like a daycare?" Joy asks
"That wasn't what I was thinking, but that works too."
"Okay enough about that, have you seen him yet?" Joy whispers against the speaker of her own phone and thankfully so because just as soon as she mentions him Jaehyun comes walking into your room without a notice or a knock.
"Dinners ready." He stops at the entrance of your room but gets closer when he sees that you're on the phone. Close enough for him to show up on your camera screen and wave his hand around. "Hi, Joy." He smiles tauntingly.
"I have to go," you mutter and hang up the call before either of them can get another word in. Turning in your seat to ask "Why are you here?" for the second time today.
His smile doesn't falter, and he doesn't back away, either. "What? You don't want to see me?" he teases.
"I don't," you murmur, pushing him away with the palm of your hand and rolling your eyes. You stand up when he backs up, but his eyes remain on you. You hate that you didn't hate it, and you hate that you don't hate him.
You always thought you would be angry if you ever saw him again, you expected that you'd shed a few tears even. But all of that was furthest from the truth because now that you saw him again you were only reminded of the love you kept harbored away for him.
You were gonna be fine, as long as you kept your distance.
"You invited him over for dinner?" You quietly mutter to your mom, hoping that Jaehyun won't hear you.
"Don't be like that, he came over all the time while you were gone. That's not gonna change because of a little breakup."
"But Mom." You whine.
She hears none of it as she continues setting the table and praising Jaehyun for how helpful he was compared to her own child. You grimace at the statement before plopping down at the table with your arms crossed.
Jaehyun takes the seat across from you, and your mom takes the one adjacent. "Isn't this wonderful? It's been so long since I've seen the two of you together." She smiles and clamps her hands together.
"Is he going to come over every night?" You ask, wiping the smile off of your mom's face. You've always been a fan of your mom's cooking, but now you were picking at the rice and mixing it around. Your spoon clinks against the bottom of the glass plate before you go to take a spoonful.
Sucking in a hiss when your mom smacks your arm, "Why don't you be nice?"
"I was just asking." You whine once more but pull your lips into a thin line when you realize that no matter what, she's going to take his side and Jaehyun's enjoying it.
"You know the carnival is opening tomorrow." Your mom starts again, "You guys should go out and have fun. It's summer, and you're still young."
"I can't. I have to…" You look around for any excuse that won't get you slapped for a second time. "Unpack."
Your efforts count for nothing as your mom slaps you again on the arm. "Oh, don't be stubborn." She laughs. "Jaehyun, you aren't busy, right?"
"No, mam." He smiles, specifically at you.
"And neither are you," she says when she looks at you. "So it's settled; you can pick her up tomorrow." Your mom claps her hands together with a bright smile.
"No, I really can't." You wave your hand around.
"Well, you don't have a job, do you?" is all your mom has to say to make you lower your chin and shake your head. "Then I don't see why not."
"Besides, you could use a picker-upper since you broke up with that little boyfriend of yours." She adds unsolicited. You want to hide, curl up into a ball, and just vanish, disappear, and go anywhere but here.
"You broke up?" Jaehyun pipes up with a smirk.
You scramble to defend yourself, but the best you can come up with is, "We're just taking a little break."and that's all you get to say before your mom interrupts.
"Say, Jaehyun, don't you have that pan I let you borrow? I think I might need it for tomorrow night's dinner."
He nods, "Yeah, I can bring it tomorrow if you'd like."
"No, you might forget. Y/n, why don't you ride with him and bring the pan back."
The mention of your name makes you choke on your food, "What?"
"That'll give you guys some time to catch up." If you didn't know any better, you would think she was doing this on purpose. But you did know better and knew she was doing this on purpose.
"But it's late, and he has bad eyesight." You point, searching for any way that you could to get her to change her mind. Redacting when you see the way he's looking at you. "I mean, it's never safe to drive at night."
"That's more of a reason for you to go. I wouldn't want him stranded on the side of the road." says your mom.
"What about me?"
"If you're ready, we can go now." She ignores you when Jaehyun stands up in his chair.
"Yes, you two get going. I'll clean this up." Your mother hurries you out of your seat, pushing you along with Jaehyun to the door. You don't even get to say anything before she's waving and slamming the door in your face, locking you out of the house with your pajamas, bunny slippers, and your ex.
"You coming?" Jaehyun yells, standing on the passenger side of his black car.
You look at the door once and let out a long, deep sigh as you stomp to his car, sliding past him and into the passenger seat, but not without rolling your eyes.
"If you keep rolling your eyes, they're going to get stuck in the back of your head," Jaehyun teases before closing the car door.
He gets into the car shortly after and starts it immediately. You hope to keep the car ride quiet, but Jaehyun has other plans as he starts returning to his place. "I see long distance isn't your strong suit."
Naturally, you want to roll your eyes. You notice it's just a common occurrence when you are around him. "I already told you were working things out; I just didn't wanna hold him back."
You turn to him when you hear a small laugh. "Working things out," he repeats. "How come I didn't get that option?"
"You didn't deserve it."
"So you really love him, huh?" He glances over to see your reaction, and based on your facial expressions alone, he knows he's right.
He knows the answer, but you're not as sure. Is it possible for you to love two men at once?
"I don't wanna talk about this tonight, Jaehyun." You sigh and gaze out of the window. Per your request, he remains quiet for the rest of the ride. But now that you're sitting in complete silence, all you have to do is think. Think about the feelings and emotions you thought you had left in the past.
What would things be like if you had never ended things with Jaehyun? Would you have met your ex? Would you be conflicted right now sitting in the passenger seat of your ex's car while thinking about your other ex?
"Are you coming in?" Jaehyun asks, holding his apartment door open for you.
You prop up against the wall behind you and fold your arms. "No, I'll stand right here," you say, but swiftly run behind him when you hear someone else leave their apartment. The last thing you needed was someone else to see you standing outside his door, whether they knew you or not.
"Hi, Johnny." Jaehyun turns to wave at the neighbor against your wishes, smiling at you when you glare at him. "Don't worry, he's not gonna bite you."
Your only response is another glare; he simply smiles while you walk past him and into his apartment.
This seems to be the nature of your relationship: You're hot-headed and easily irritated, while Jaehyun is sarcastic and loves to get under your skin. It's always been like this, and there was just no telling how the two of you ever managed to fall in love.
Jaehyun stands behind you when you scan his living area. It's exactly what you'd expect from a man, and especially Jaehyun. There's a couch and some small decor here and there, but it feels cold and bare for the most part.
It's almost hard to believe that this is where he spends most of his time.
You keep your thoughts to yourself and follow him into the kitchen, where you continue to look around.
"Seems like you and my mom got close," you speak, hoping to distract him from how you are inspecting everything in his apartment.
Jaehyun answers, "Yeah, I guess you could say that." His head dips into the cabinets under the counter, searching for the pan that brought him here in the first place.
You raise your hands to each arm and sigh, "So was that on purpose… or?"
"She was the closest thing I could get to you." He says casually, as if everyone's heard that before.
You, on the other hand, aren't as casual about the subject as he is. You drop your arms to your side and start looking around again for a sudden change of conversation, which Jaehyun misses with his head still tucked under the cabinets.
"I like what you've done with the place; it's cozy." You lie, and you're glad he isn't looking at you because you know he can tell that you are with just a glance.
You forgot that he could also tell when you were nervous. He's always been able to read you like a children's book, and he always used that against you.
"It wasn't as easy for me to jump into another relationship as fast as you did." He stands up with the pan in his hand. The look he gives you makes your face feel hot; you begin choking over words.
"I- I don't wanna talk about this."
"I do." He slides the pan back when you reach for it but closes the distance between you. He gets so close that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He's so close that you're scared he might hear the beat of your heart. He's so close that you could just kiss him. "I missed you, Y/n. More than you could ever imagine."
You admit you still have feelings for Jaehyun but won't act on them. After all, you're a firm believer in "Control your actions, not your emotions," but he's only getting closer and closer.
You start to rethink your philosophies when you breathe in the scent of his cologne. Your skin feels hot and you don't know how long you plan on holding back from him.
It's going to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner? You think as you allow him to take the last step needed to close the space between you.
When his lips connect with yours, you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, and suddenly, he lifts you up by the back of your thighs to carry you back to his bedroom.
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The bright yellow light beaming over your closed eyelids wakes you up from your deep slumber. The arm wrapped tightly around your abdomen causes your eyes to nearly bulge out of your head.
Your clothes sprawled on the floor is enough evidence to prove that last night wasn't just a dream. Being pretty much naked in nothing but one of his T-shirts is just the icing on top.
You really slept with your ex.
"Jaehyun," you whisper, gently tapping his arm, which is more than enough to wake him up.
He groans, "Good Morning" as he starts to lay kisses all over the back of your shoulders. And if possible, his hold on you just gets tighter as he pulls you back towards him.
"I have to go home."
"Sure thing, baby." He says, laying one kiss on the back of your head and another on your cheek. With that, he rolls off the bed and begins getting dressed, smiling like an idiot while he does so.
You choose to ignore it; for once, he wasn't acting like an asshole, and you just need some quietness while you take the time to collect your clothes from around the floor.
However, when you reach the car, your thoughts spew like a waterfall. "We can't do that again." You don't give him time to respond, to neither agree nor disagree, before you go on a tangent that lasts the entire 12-minute car ride.
"Okay," Jaehyun responds after pulling into the driveway of your childhood home.
He's never really been much of a talker; if anything, he just liked to say simple things that he knew would piss you off. You're certain this has to be one of them. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop your blood from growing hot.
"okay?" You repeat with squinted eyes. "I just told you I never wanted to see or talk to you again and just go 'okay?"
"What do you want me to say?" He almost laughs, and that just riles you up more.
"Anything else? Did you even mean everything you said yesterday, or were you just looking for sex?" He doesn't say anything at first. He looks away and gazes out the window for what feels like half an hour but is only 8 seconds.
"I don't know." He shrugs
"You don't know?" You repeat him yet again.
"Well, do you want me to tell you the truth?" He asks calm as ever, completely opposite to you.
"No, I don't." You murmur, stomping out of his car and slamming the door behind you.
Jaehyun lets you get to your porch before he rolls his passenger seat window down and shouts, "I'll pick you up at two." When you turn around, you're met with a dimpled smile and his crescent eyes.
If you weren't already so angry, you would've matched his smile, and for a second, you almost do.
He always knew how to make you mad and how to make you laugh. That's why you fell in love with each other, and it only took a special set of dimples to remind you of that.
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The sun is still young at 2 p.m., well, 1:51 p.m., to be exact. You were coming to terms with the fact that you had slept with your ex and that you'd been counting the seconds, waiting for two o'clock to come.
The knock at the door sends you rushing down the steps, nearly tripping over your own feet. You barely contain your smile when you see Jaehyun standing on the other side of the door.
"You're early," you scoff, walking past him and closing the door behind you. Jaehyun does nothing but smile at you, reaching for your hand to pull you closer to him as he guides you to his car.
He leaves a kiss on your cheeks and mumbles, "I couldn't wait to see you." To which you roll your eyes in an attempt to hide the way your lips turn up against your cheeks.
The wind from outside seeps into the car as he drives through the highway, one hand interlocked with yours and the other on the steering wheel. He glances at you a few times and, after the third time, says, "You know this is a date, right?"
You turn your head towards the window and pretend like you can't hear him. Only for him to roll both windows up and repeat, "You know this is a date, right?"
"I didn't agree to a date." You retort, "I'm only here cause my mom forced me to."
"Is that why you're still holding my hand?" He asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
You shift in your seat, but you don't dare to let go of his hand. If anything, your grasp on him just gets tighter, and you go back to looking out the window. "My hand is cold, and yours is warm," you murmur.
Your answer warrants him to bring your hand up to his lips and leave a chaste kiss or a few. He does that often throughout the evening, randomly pulling you closer to him just to leave kisses on your cheek or forehead.
It feels like high school all over again. Jaehyun's still staring at you like a lovesick fool, and you still get butterflies in the pit of your stomach when you make eye contact. "This isn't a date," you state suddenly.
The warm breeze, carrying the scent of summer, gently tousles your hair as you gaze up at your ex. "And I meant what I said. After this, I don't wanna see you again." The air is filled with the sounds of young teens cheering and laughing, their voices blending into a joyful cacophony.
Jaehyun uses his index finger to move the hair out of your face and push it behind your ear. "Okay," he says softly, with his hand still lingering on your cheek. His thumb softly grazes your lower lip.
You breathe, "I'm serious, Jae." But the use of his nickname and the way you look at him tells him you're anything but serious.
"I know." He says, switching his focus between your eyes and your lips. He kisses you, but you take the initiative to pull him closer by the nape of his neck, feeling the heat of his body transform onto yours.
The feeling is all too familiar,‌ like euphoric bliss or, rather, a certain type of high you don't ever want to come down from. "I missed you." You slur against his lips, arms still tied around him so he can't go anywhere.
"I know." is all he says before he leans in to kiss you again.
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The car is pretty silent other than the small taps of the raindrops on the windows and the music playing on his car radio at the lowest volume. Occasionally, you can hear vibrations from your phone.
Jaehyun's hand is firmly wrapped around yours, and it's been like that for the past hour. He pulls you right back every time you try to slip away. "So what about Sicheng? How is he?" you ask, resting your head against the back of the seat.
"He's married now," Jaehyun answers. The tips of his lips turn upwards into a smile when he sees your widened eyes.
"To whom?"
"I don't know her name." He looks off to the side as if to think. "They got married a year ago."
"I would've never thought." The car falls silent again, and just as soon as it does, your phone buzzes for probably the hundredth time of the night.
Jaehyun lets your hand go just long enough for you to check your messages.
There are over 20 missed calls from Joy and one text from her telling you to call her ASAP.
Then, there are three messages from your ex begging you to call him. His contact is still saved as "my love." It's been like that since you first got together, and you hadn't thought of changing it after you broke up.
Well, it's more like you couldn't bring yourself to do it. If you were to change his name and block him, things would be real for you. And you were desperately clinging on to hope. Maybe things will work out; you'll go back to L.A and be with him again.
"Are you okay?" Jaehyun pulls you out of your thoughts, sliding his hand into yours and interlocking your fingers.
"Yeah," you shake your head and lock your phone.
You have no idea what tomorrow might bring, but for tonight, you just want to sit with Jaehyun, even if it is just for tonight.
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"Hello." It's probably 6 am if you had to guess. Birds are singing right outside of your window, and the sun isn't all the way up yet.
You sit up in your bed with one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other moving your hair out of your face. "Why didn't you call me back?" Joy's voice echoes through the speaker of your phone.
"Maybe because I was asleep?" You snap back, eyes barely open.
"I got you a job." That's enough to have you leaping off your bed with your eyes jumping out of the socket.
"Say, sike." You chirp. "Please don't say sike."
"I'm serious; I told them you were out of town, but you can start next month." She explains, calm as ever.
"Joy, you are amazing." You exclaim into the phone. "Have I ever told you you're the bestest best friend in the entire world?"
"You've mentioned it a few times." You don't have to see her to know that she's smirking. "I have to go now. I just wanted to tell you about the job. I'll call you back later."
She doesn't give you time to say anything else before the call is dropped. You throw your phone down and plop down on your bed. You can't help but smile, thinking about how things are gonna go back to normal.
However, when you feel your phone vibrate against your side and you read Jaehyun's name ‌off your screen, your smile fades. You were so excited about going back to L.A that you forgot about him.
For the next few days, you do your best to forget about everything and just spend time with Jaehyun, whether it be chatting in his car or even helping him redecorate his sad and cold jail ce- apartment.
"What's the catch?" Jaehyun asks suddenly, his index finger twirling in your hair. You shift your ‌ head against his chest to look at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"You've been acting really weird lately," he explains, "You're all clingy now. Which I like, but it also feels too good to be true." You can see a shift in the way he looks at you and in the tone of his voice. "It feels like you might try to leave me again."
"I'm just trying to make up for lost time." You're too afraid to tell him that your time with him is limited. Too afraid of his reaction and of your own emotions.
"You don't have to lie to me." He sits up against the headboard of his bed, and you do the same thing. "I knew this was only temporary, and I know I shouldn't have let my feelings get involved again." Jaehyun takes a deep breath before continuing, "But I love you. I think I always will."
When you don't say anything, he keeps going. "Let's try again." He says.
"Jaehyun-" He cuts you off with a kiss, not wanting to hear ‌your rejection.
"We can move to L.A together." He speaks against your lips, "And we can find an apartment. I'll get a job, I'll sell my car if I have to."
His determination makes you giggle, and soon enough, he starts laughing with you."I thought you hated the city."
"I do. But you love the city, and I love you,"
"I didn't know you were such a romantic." You beam, butterflies erupting as he reaches to move the hair out of your face and behind your ear.
"But we'll have to move my son out too. I'm not asking you to play stepmom, but I do want to be in his life." Jaehyun speaks casually, but your jaw is growing heavy, and the butterflies are starting to feel like poison or mini daggers hitting your gut all at once.
You only manage to squeak "What?" Even though there are so many questions, you want to ask.
"I'm kidding." He breaks into a laugh, but you're still left confused and slightly heartbroken.
"That's not funny, Jae." You whine when he pulls you in to leave a kiss on your forehead.
"It's hilarious, baby."
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You jump up off the bed the second your phone begins to vibrate, running to the door and checking the doorway to make sure Jaehyun is occupied before you slowly and softly close the door to answer the call.
"Hello?" You breathe into your phone speaker as you tiptoe back to the bed.
"Hello? Girl, why are you whispering." Joy asks, "Where are you?"
You don't have to answer that question because Jaehyun answers that question for you when he busts through the door to ask "Do you want take out or should we cook tonight?"
"Take out." You answer, covering your phone mic.
Still, your best friend hears everything, "Who is that?" She questions.
"Okay, do you want Pizza or Chinese food?" Jaehyun asks, leaning in between the doorway.
"Y/n, that better not be who I think it is." Joy scolds from her end of the line.
You answer Jaehyun to ignore Joy. "I don't know what you choose," you say urgently, anything to get him out of the room.
"I know how you are, baby. I don't want to get you something that you don't feel like eating," Jaehyun explains, walking further into the room.
The closer he gets, the louder your heart beats and the more your best friend yells at you. "Baby?" She barks through the speaker and right into your ear.
You rush to hit the mute button, but with your eyes focused on Jaehyun, you slip up and accidentally put your best friend on speaker phone. "Y/n, you better answer me right now."
When her voice rings through the room, your heart stops beating altogether. For the second time this month, you want to vanish, disappear into thin air, and cease to exist.
"Hi, Joy." Jaehyun greets with a large grin that shows his dimples on full display.
Joy only responds in a monotone, "Jaehyun." You rush to say, "I'll do a plain cheese pizza." Once again, you are just trying to get him out of the room.
"Sure thing, baby." He cooes, with a kiss to your cheek. Soon enough he's out of the room and you're alone again. With a deafening silence.
"Things happened." You hesitantly speak.
"Things like what?" Your clothes slipped off, and you fell into his bed?" You hear a sigh immediately after she snaps, and you're too afraid to say anything else. "What about—"" I don't wanna talk about him," you interject.
"Okay, but does he know you're coming back?" Joy asks, referring to Jaehyun. When you don't answer, she gets worried. "You are coming back, right?"
"Of course I'm coming back. I just haven't told him yet." You trail off on the last part.
She doesn't say anything for a long while, and neither do you. You sit in your own disappointment, you didn't need her to tell you that you messed up because you already knew that.
"Y/n, I'm only saying this because I love you…" It doesn't take a genius to know that what's coming next is about to hurt. "You're being really stupid right now."
That hurt a lot more than you thought it would. "Wow, thanks, Joy."
"Listen, I don't want you to get hurt again."
"I'm not, he's changed, and things are different now." You explain although you're not even sure you believe it yourself.
"Then why haven't you told him yet?" She asks, but you don't answer. "You're going to give him the chance to break you again?"
"He's not," you cry, pulling against the ends of Jaehyun's oversized shirt, which you stole out of his drawer to wear.
Joy can hear the tone of your voice soften, so she softens hers as well, but it doesn't change the gravity of her words. "Do you remember how long it took for-" "Please don't mention him." You interrupt her, already knowing who she's about to bring up.
"Look I'll figure things out, but for now I just wanna be happy." You continue, "I think I deserve that."
"You do, Y/n. You deserve nothing but happiness, and if he makes you happy, then don't let me get in your way. but don't forget who you have waiting for you in California with open arms." Joy attests
"I know you're just looking out for me, but I don't know if I can go back to him knowing what I did while I was here."
"You know better than I do that he'd never judge you." And you did. You knew that very well. Your ex never made you feel insignificant or anything of the sort. He never shamed you or made you feel guilty for anything. But that didn't change the fact that you would judge yourself.
"I just need time to think about everything." You say, almost in a whisper.
"I trust that you'll do the right thing." Joy reassures, "I'm gonna go now. I love you."
"I love you too." You say before hanging up the phone and throwing it on the other side of the bed. The call leaves you feeling nothing but confused, and Jaehyun notices it the second he walks into the room.
Your subtle pout and the way you're holding the pillow to your chest tell him exactly how you're feeling. "What's wrong?" He takes the seat beside you, tugging at your waist so you can scoot closer to him.
"Did you mean what you said about moving to L.A.?" You ask first. Your hand rests over his when he reaches to stroke your cheek.
"I wouldn't play about that Y/n"
You take a deep breath when you get the answer you want. "Joy got me a job, and they want me to start next month."
"What? That's amazing, baby." He cooes, grabbing each of your hands. "We're going to L.A"
He reacted way differently than you imagined he would; the look on his face tells you he's sincere, and the flutter in your heart makes you hope that he really is. You don't think you can't take another heartbreak, not from him.
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As you stand in your old room, the brown paper box at your feet, you can't help but feel a strong sense of nostalgia wash over you. You take in every detail: the way the sunlight filters through the window, casting a warm glow on everything in the room; the creaking sound of the wooden floorboards under your feet, each one carrying a memory of its own; and the scent of your old perfume that still lingers in the air, like a faint echo of a bygone era.
This time, as you prepare to leave, it feels different. It feels like you're saying goodbye for good, and the thought of leaving this place forever fills you with a deep sense of loss. When you first arrived in Connecticut, you couldn't wait to leave, but now you find yourself wishing you could stay just a little bit longer so you could relive the memories of your past, which you hold so dear.
However, you know that the real reason you're dreading going back is that you don't want to face your ex. The thought of telling him that you're now in a relationship with the man you used to cry to him about fills you with anxiety. You're unsure of how he'll react, and the mere prospect of facing him makes your heart race with fear.
The more you think about it, the more you realize that things are not looking good for you. You're caught between your love for your new partner and your fear of the unknown.
Suddenly, your mom yells from downstairs, "Y/n, someone is here for you." You don't pay much attention to the hesitation in her voice, too lost in thought. You wish you had because when you reach the bottom of the stairs and look up, Doyoung, your ex, is standing right across from you with a saddened smile and a black duffle bag. Your heart skips a beat as you see him. You hadn't expected him to be here, but now that he is, you don't know how to react. You mutter, "What are you doing here?" As you wrap your arms around yourself, unsure of what to do next.
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Part 2
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Gator Tillman x Stripper!Reader
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
CW: Porn w/plot. AFAB!Reader. No use of Y/N. Pet names. Subby!Pathetic!Gator. Gator is lovesick. Mentions of past infidelity (no sex beforehand, but visits the reader on the regular). Girlfriend/ex-girlfriend talk. Oral (m receiving). Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Cocky!Gator at the end. Basically two toxic people.
WC: 4.7K (Oops!)
It had been a very productive night at The Tender Trap. You were just finishing up another set under the rush of the pink and red neon lights, gathering the falling tips by the bucket load as he walked in.
Looking as forlorn as ever, head hung low, his usually slicked back hair falling in and around his face and what looked to be a bruise forming under his eye.
You knew the look all too well. He ordered a beer at the bar and took his usual seat in the back taking up the entire bench, stretching his legs out still in uniform sans his kevlar and service weapon. For someone who liked to stay low key, he sure didn't know how to act the part.
You watched from the corner of your eye as his eyes trailed over you. Taking your time to slowly retreat into the dressing room, swaying your hips not bothering to cover your bare chest as you go.
You enjoyed making him wait, only making him more anxious and grumpy, all worked up just that way you liked.
As you sat at your small station reapplying your lipstick, one of the other girls walked in throwing a smirk your way.
“Your boy's out there looking for you.” She snickered.
“He's not my boy.” Replying flatly.
“You tell him that?” Laughing out, as you caught her reflection behind you.
No. You didn't have to tell him.
Gator Tillman only came around when he was fighting with his girlfriend though it seemed to be getting more frequent. You knew all the juicy, sorted details.
Finally emerging from the back, he was nursing his beer looking at the stage with his head tilted slightly, showing signs of boredom, thumb nail slowly peeling the label on his bottle.
Spotting you, his back stiffened sitting up a little straighter making your grin grow a little wider as you passed other patrons and ogling men vying for your attention.
His eyes remained steady on the stage as you sauntered over, trying to stay aloof as if he weren't here just to see you, pointedly avoiding your sultry gaze.
“Took you long enough,” he sassed, taking another swig of his beer as you sat down.
“Oh, I'm sorry Tillman. Did I keep you waiting?” Sassing right back. “Didn't even realize you were here.” Clicking your tongue.
“Nah, sweetheart, not at all. Enjoyin’ the view, drinkin’ a beer. What more could a guy ask for?” He grinned into the bottle, still looking away from you.
Your hand glides across the top of the padded bench seat, hand grasping his thigh making him choke on his next swig, quickly pulling the bottle from his lips wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
The glare he sent your way only made you giggle before you spoke.
“What're you in for tonight? Need a chat…” your fingertips tiptoed up the expanse of his thigh, watching as his breath hitched. “Or a little something more?” Licking your lips in anticipation of the inevitable answer.
He pushed your hand away, setting the beer down.
“Can we at least go to the back before ya’ start gettin' all handsy?” He hissed out, finally looking at you.
You scoff, rolling your eyes.
“What’s your problem? Not like your girlfriend or daddy would ever set foot in here.” Getting up as you spoke.
He lightly grabbed your wrist, preventing you from leaving his space.
“Don't. It's just… ya’ know how it is.” Deflecting. His go to before you can get him relaxed.
“No, I don’t know. But,” sighing and melting into his touch. “Come on, you can tell me about it.”
His hand trailed down, gripping yours, letting you pull him up as his large fingers wrap around yours. You'd thought numerous times about how they might feel wrapped around your neck or stuffed inside your greedy cunt.
He held tight, following you into the back, watching the way your ass looked in nothing but the thong you wore, thighs pushed out with the way your tights were digging into the plush of them. He was already hard, anticipation thrumming through him as you led him down the small hall to a private room.
It was a revolving cycle. He'd either fight with his girlfriend or on some occasions, his dad, and come find you. You were a stress relief, a way to blow off steam without any judgment.
Yeah, you might cost him an arm and a leg but you were worth it.
You stopped momentarily, whispering something to the bouncer he couldn't quite discern over the thumping base and loud music this close to the stage. The guy nodded, as you looked back and began to lead him once more, taking him down a hall where the music began to fade.
“Want another beer before we get started?” Calling over your shoulder, an almost predatory toothy grin thrown his way.
“Nah,” answering quickly. It was always the same. He wasn't interested in drinks or waiting any longer.
You enter the very last room at the end of the hall. The same red walls as the club with a small couch situated at the far end and a pole in the middle. The music was filtering in through speakers hung in the corners.
He continued past you making his way over to the couch as you locked the door. Much like in the bar, he took up most of the space. Wide and domineering.
“You never answered me out there. What're you in for tonight?” Taking long, slow strides toward him.
“I don't really wanna talk tonight.” He huffed out, as you stopped short in front of him standing between his legs.
“Someone's really grumpy.” Tilting your head, hands slowly moving up his chest to his shoulders moving your face close to his, nails digging slightly into the leather of his jacket as you trailed small kisses across his jaw.
You pulled back, gripping his chin forcefully making him look up at you.
“That little girlfriend of yours piss you off that bad?” You chuckled, but he found no amusement in your words, moving out of your grasp with a pout. You found him adorable when he was pissed.
“Poor baby,” you tsked. Pushing up and away from him. Giving him a nice sway of your hips as you walked toward the pole, gripping it and spinning back around.
“Now, Gator, how long have we done this little number? Huh? You still trying to play coy?” You began dancing to the rhythm of the music filling the room as he watched you but stayed silent.
“I know when something is bothering you.” You spoke as you continued to dance. He had to adjust himself, cock now straining the constricting fabric of his cargos, almost painfully.
“If you don't tell me now, you know it'll just eat away at you. You can't even have any proper fun.” Dropping to the floor, crawling toward him at an agonizing pace, never taking your eyes off of him.
You slowly sat in between his legs, hands splayed on either side of his thighs so close to his length, he let out a shuttering breath as you began to lightly outline his cock with your fingertip, feeling it kick up beneath your touch.
Your number one rule was that you never fucked a client. No matter what. Each time you saw him, it became harder and harder not to give in. The way he would fall apart for you drove you absolutely crazy. He was pathetic, in all the best ways.
You laid your head on his thigh, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Gator, baby, tell me what's wrong. You'll feel so much better once you get it off your chest.” Your fake pout and doe eyes were too much.
“Fine. Fuck!” He threw his head back, exasperated because this little game you played wouldn't end until you got what you wanted.
“We fought. Again. We… I… broke up with her.” He sighed, unwilling to meet your gaze.
“Oh.” You lifted your head at that, standing to straddle his lap, legs on either side of his. Shifting to accommodate your frame as you sat down, immediately grinding your hips into his.
“Yeah…” coming out all breathy, as he hesitantly placed his hands on your hips.
“Poor baby,” continuing to move your hips across his lap, his cock hard against you with each pass and swirl igniting something within your own core.
“She… she wanted to get married and I didn't. It would have never worked out. She's just so different from… me.” What he had wanted to say was you. In the back of his mind, he knew this little thing between the two of would never really work out either. He was infatuated with the thought of you. Outside of the club he didn't know anything about you.
“That's such a shame.” Your own words coming out a little breathy, leaning close to his ear, lips pressing right under his jaw. You knew you shouldn't but you pressed in further lips sucking lightly, testing his reaction. When a small whimper escaped him, you only sucked harder, leaving a small mark behind.
His cock twitched, hips bucking up as he pressed you further down searching for more friction, blunt fingertips digging into your soft flesh. You had to bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan before it slipped out. It would be too easy to slip him out of his pants and slide down his shaft, feeling your own wetness pooling in your skimpy thongs, sticking to your folds.
Something, if you admitted to yourself, you'd also thought about numerous times. You'd heard the rumors. You'd felt his cock and knew it was big.
“You like that, Gator? Want me to mark you up? Let that little girlfriend and daddy know what you really like? What you've been up to?” You licked his pulse point, debating on sinking your teeth into his bared throat.
“Yeah.” He huffed out.
“Oh, Gator.” You pulled back, taking a hard look into his eyes. Glossed over, pupils taking over his mossy irises, now almost black.
“You'd regret it in the morning. I'm sure she'd see you and cry and you'll apologize and she'll take you back.” You chuckled, pushing off his chest slightly but he had a firm grip on your hips.
“I won't regret it.” He gritted out, nose to nose with you, lips daring to ghost over yours. “Don't you see what you do to me? I'd let you do anything to me.” Bucking his hips again for emphasis.
You'd done this cat and mouse a dozen times, always ending the same. You'd dance for him, grind on his cock all the while letting his hands roam over your hips and thighs, and even that was pushing it while trying to maintain a level of professionalism. But you always made it fun. He could vent while you'd take his mind off of whatever was bothering him, making him cum in his pants and sending him home.
“I know you would.” Taking his hands and shoving them off your waist. “But I have a rule and I'm not about to break it for you.”
Standing and striding back over to the pole, leaving his mouth gaping to stare after you.
“Why not?” He asks earnestly. As you begin to sway with the song, his eyes suddenly drifting down your hips and legs as if mesmerized by the small movements.
“You know I don't fuck clients. Period.” You shrug, turning back to him. “Even if you are a newly single man, if that's even true.”
He tilts his head for a moment, regarding you.
“You don't think I see the way ya’ look for me in the crowd when you're dancin’ up there? Or try to hold back those moans when you're back here alone with me?” He quickly rose, closing the distance between the two of you, suddenly nose to nose with him again.
“Darlin’ I think,” nose nudging yours. “You want me as bad as I want you. Tell me I'm wrong.” Hands finding your sides once more, bringing you flush to him.
Your hands found their way to his chest, to steady yourself, knees almost going weak at his insinuations. Had you been too distracted letting your facade slip? Had he seen right through you? You weren't sure but he seemed to be quickly gaining the upper hand, which simply would not do.
“Gator, baby, I think you're sadly mistaken. I try to make everyone feel like they're the only ones in the room. It's part of the show.” It slightly gnawed at you, watching the way he deflated at your words, lips pouted and eyes down turned, so utterly pathetic when he's sad.
“Go sit on the couch.” Patting his chest as he stepped away, giving yourself a reprieve in the process.
He sighed behind you, plopping back down on the faux leather seat sinking further into the cushion as you wandered back over taking up residency in his lap once more, facing away from him this time.
You swirled your hips, cock pressed hard against your ass.
“Little help?” Looking over your shoulder at him, wiggling your back. His fingers skimmed up, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, as he untied your top.
Lifting it above your head, you rose back up, throwing it across the room and turned back around to face him planting your knees on either side of him. Tits now eye level with him but he was looking up at you instead, making your cheeks heat. Why the fuck was he looking at you like that?
You sat back in his lap, hands roaming up the expanse of his clothed abdomen and chest as you leaned back into him, lips grazing his ear as you spoke.
“Okay Gator, maybe I have thought about you and what this big, fat cock could do to my pussy.” Grabbing his bulge for emphasis, squeezing him through his pants as he released a breathy moan.
“So, I-I was right?” You pulled back to look at him, shit eating grin across his face, eyebrow raised in your direction.
“Don't get cocky, or I'll stop this before we even get started.” Quickly shooting back, as he nodded.
“Good boy.” Hands gliding up under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, as he helped you pull it off and toss it somewhere across the room. “Now, lay back and relax.”
Some shitty country song was playing but you found your rhythm anyway, grinding against him. His eyes drifted to your breasts, down to where your clothed pussy rubbed against his cock.
“You fucking anybody on the side or was it just virgin Mary?”
He looked a little surprised by your question.
“Just her, but uh, it's been a while.” Sheepishly answering, cheeks suddenly tinged the prettiest shade of pink.
“Ok, good. I don't have any condoms, unless you brought one?” He shook his head. “I'm clean and on the pill. If you still want to do this.”
“Fuck yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically before you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you.
“Undo your belt and pants. I want to see what I'm working with.” He didn't need to be told twice, hands quickly going to work, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, laying between the two of you. He was much bigger than you initially anticipated. Eyes going a little wide with surprise.
He was long, and thick with a ruddy tip, already leaking a pearly bead at the slit. You licked your lips and looked back up to his smug face.
“Ya’ okay darlin’?” Finding a little humor in your sudden stupor.
Quickly flipping your demeanor smirking up at him, devilish glint in your eye as you moved from his lap to the floor settling between his thighs.
“It's a lot bigger than I expected, Gator. I'm not sure you'll fit.” Looking up through your lashes at him, laying it on nice and thick.
“Fuck, y-ya’ don't think so? My gi… my ex always said it hurt too much. Couldn't get more than half before she was cryin’.” You could imagine. His poor little girlfriend didn't realize what she was getting into with him.
You were anything but a good girl, moving closer to his raging erection and pursing your lips letting saliva pool before spitting it onto his shaft.
“Fuck!” He hissed out looking down at you with hooded eyes, as you gingerly wrapped your hand around him letting your thumb swirl at his head collecting his precum before spreading it down his cock and back up.
He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back onto the couch. If he was this far gone from just a touch you weren't sure he would make it to the big finale.
“Eyes on me, big boy.” Squeezing at the base, eliciting his attention as he looked back to you.
“That's it. Couldn't let you miss this.” Saying with a salacious grin before sticking your tongue out to lick from his girthy base all the way up to his tip. The way he whimpered caught you off guard, sending a fresh wave of arousal straight to your already soaked cunt.
Your eyes never left his as you closed your lips around his leaking head, swirling your tongue and humming around the taste of him.
“Mmmm, Gator you taste so good. Did… what's her name ever do this for you?” You asked, it suddenly occurred to you that he'd never said her name out loud.
He shook his head, swallowing thickly, “No. She thought it was too…” trailing off.
“Too what? Dirty?” Kitten licking at his head before finally taking him fully into your mouth, surprising him as his hips bucked up, shoving him further down your throat, making you gag momentarily, before relaxing taking him a little further.
“Oh fuck… shit… that's… goddamn you're a dirty fuckin' girl.” He gritted out, eyes rolling back, all semblance of composure now gone as you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks with your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't fit.
“Wait… wait… slow down,” he suddenly huffed out. Trying to catch his breath, as you stilled and pulled off with a slick pop.
“Too much?” Looking back up at him with doe eyes and lips glistening with his arousal.
“Fuck… just fuck me… please?” He sounded pathetic; brow pinched with frustration at his pleading words. “I've thought about this for way too long. I want yo-your pussy.”
“What a needy baby.” Standing back up and planting yourself back on his lap. Just a thin layer of fabric separating the two of you now as you straddled his cock, feeling the heat of him pressed against you.
He leaned in, lips searching for yours, but you pulled back, hands on his chest holding him there.
“No kissing.”
“You'll fuck me raw but draw the line at kissin’?” Confusion flashing across his features.
“Yeah Tillman, I can't have you falling in love with me. This is a one time thing.” You giggled, pulling his hands up and placing them on your breasts as you began to move your hips, dick catching your clit, eliciting a moan from your lips but you didn't hold back this time letting it escape.
“Ya’ sound so pretty. Can I?” You looked back at him as he nodded toward your boobs still held in his hands.
“Can you what? Use your big words.”
“Can I suck your tits? They're so perfect an’ pretty. You're so fuckin' pretty.” Watching the way he kneaded them between his calloused hands as he spoke.
“Go ahead.” He quickly ducked his head, hand trailing to your lower back pressing you further into him as he sucked one of pert nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue before lightly biting, making you arch into him before he switched to the other side giving it the same attention.
While he was mildly distracted, you took the opportunity to reach down and slide your panties to the side exposing you fully to him, grinding down once more. He popped off, almost breathless looking down between the two of you.
Wasting no time, you raised yourself up, guiding him to your entrance, letting his tip catch slightly looking him in the eye. You both looked a little desperate.
“You sure you want to fuck me, Gator? This dirty, little stripper? You could go back to your girlfriend right now.” The last part came out a little breathy when you sank down a fraction, but it was enough to slightly short circuit your brain.
“Please.” Slipped past his lips so quietly, if you hadn't been looking directly at him you would have missed it.
You watched his eyes roll back, as you began to slide down his aching cock, moans from both of you filled the air. Inch by inch, you took him further than he had imagined anyone could. If you weren't so soaked and horny you knew it would be a stretch for you.
His hands found your waist, grip tight as he dug into your supple flesh as you continued to sink further onto him.
As you neared the base, his girth began splitting you open in the best possible way as you stilled your movements, giving yourself a moment to adjust.
He refused to open his eyes, as good as it felt, he was afraid if he looked at the way your pussy had engulfed him, he'd burst right then and there.
You saw the way he held an almost pained expression. His jaw was slack, breathing heavily, already absolutely wrecked.
Moving your hips back up, removing him almost entirely, cock head staying buried in your tight heat, you swirled your hips slightly before working back down.
“Oh my God! Fuck!” He all but cried out, whimpering when you took him a little deeper this time, halting when his cock all but nudged at your cervix.
“Fuck! You're so deep!” You moaned out, grabbing his hand, pressing it to your lower abdomen. “Bet you can feel yourself in there? Huh?”
“Jesus Christ!” He hissed, finally looking down to where the two of you connected.
“No, just me, Gator.” You laughed, pushing his hand away, as you started bouncing lightly at first. His cock massaging your inner walls with each delicious up and down motion.
The way your walls were sucking him in, constricting around him with each pass he wasn't going to last long. Luckily, neither were you. You'd worked both of yourselves up into a fevered frenzy, ready to combust.
His cock was brushing that spot deep within you as you slowed down your movements. Grinding more than a bounce, the patch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass igniting that spark in your lower belly. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling take over.
“You want me to cum all over your cock?” You rushed out, hand snaking up, pulling at the locks at the back of his head.
“Yes! Oh, fuck!” He whined out, not sure where his eyes should land, switching between your blissed out face, bouncing tits and back to where your pussy was staking claim to his dick. He was ruined.
Your moans grew louder as you neared your impending release, no longer able to stifle them as you continued to ride him.
His grip on you getting harsher with each passing second, sure to leave finger shaped bruises behind as he grew more desperate.
You felt that white hot heat pooling in your lower belly, as his cock continued to prod up against that spot along your frontal wall that made you see stars. You worked your pelvis a little more back and forth, feeling it again and again with each grind.
“Ahhh! Fuck! Gator, I'm… I'm…” You couldn't get the words out before you started to come undone. Your cunt clamped down around him, practically strangling his cock as he held tight to you, holding your hips steady as he began to fuck up into your tight heat, working you through your release and chasing his own.
Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, as you continued to moan and writhe atop him, trying not to collapse, as he used you like his own personal fuck toy.
A few more sloppy thrusts and he pulled you down on him, crying out as he practically impaled you on his length. He felt his balls tighten while letting out a guttural moan as his release spilled into your tight channel, a few more weak thrusts and he dropped his hands.
Too spent, you didn't move right away as you both sat there, chests heaving, trying to catch your breath.
“Shit,” you growled, knocking you both from a peaceful afterglow. You were seven minutes over his time and lucky that no one had started looking for you yet.
You peeled yourself away from him, hissing as he slipped out of you and pulled your thong back into place.
“Why the rush darlin’?” He asked, adjusting himself back into his pants and sitting up.
“You're over your paid time with me, Gator. This isn't a fucking hangout. Let's go.” Finding his jacket on the floor and tossing it directly at his chest as you pulled your top back on.
You reached for the handle once he had straightened himself up, throwing his jacket back over his shoulders.
“Hey, wait.” He called out before you turned the knob. “You goin’ back to work?”
“After that?” You snorted at the absurdity of it. If you didn't get to the dressing room, he'd be dripping down your leg. “Hell no, I've made enough tonight. I'm going home.”
“Yeah, that's good.” Nodding his head. “Ya’ need a ride?” Looking at you a little hopeful after what had just transpired.
“Gator Tillman, such a gentleman?” You chuckled. “Look, we don't have to do this. It was just sex, that you practically paid for. I'm not your girlfriend, I'm just a good time.” You winked at him, turning the handle but before you could open the door, he was behind you, arm outstretched above your head, palm pressed heavy into the wood.
You looked back at him, wondering if you'd suddenly said something wrong but that shit eating grin was back as he looked down his nose at you, eyes full of mischief.
“Thought I'd try to be nice, instead of just suggestin’ I could take you somewhere and bend you over the bed of my truck. But ya’ don't seem to like nice.” His words traveling straight to your core.
“Good to see that cocky demeanor is still intact, Tillman, but I told you this was a one time thing.” You smirked, pushing at his chest enough to get the door open and slip out, leaving him a little stunned. He watched you disappear down the hall, sighing as he made his way back to the front to pay the rest of his tab.
Once you made it to the dressing room you didn't bother cleaning up, pulling off your tights and throwing on some shorts and a tank top while haphazardly tossing your belongings back into your bag as you quickly exited the back.
You knew you'd fucked up. That lovesick look in his eye told you everything. You could eat this man alive, and he would smile while letting you. All without knowing your real name.
But it's just a little fun, right? What's a little more? You'd already broken your first rule, why not make the most of it?
Pleased to see you'd made it outside first, you propped yourself up against the wall close to the alley and lit a cigarette watching the front.
He finally stepped out, keys in his hand walking over to his truck. When he turned his back, that's when you finally spoke.
“Hey, Tillman!” He quickly turned; eyes wide as you strode up to him. “You still offering that ride?”
Tagging some mooties that might be interested: @hellfirenacht @thecreelhouse @xxbimbobunnyxx
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katierosefun · 5 months
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oh there's something particularly painful about my mister in that dong hoon tells ji an that as long as no one knows, it's no big deal, and there's something particularly painful about how ji an tells dong hoon that sometimes, i want [my secret] to play out on big screens for everyone to see, and there's something particularly painful about how the second dong hoon meets the loan shark tormenting ji an, he starts screaming and yelling about how she's just a kid, how could you do that to a kid, and there's something particularly painful about how dong hoon doesn't even let ji an know he did that, but ji an knows. she knows because she was listening in the entire time and she just starts crying because someone actually knows this ugly, sad part of her and still took her side, and something particularly painful about how my mister started with as long as no one knows, it's no big deal but really concludes with there is so much risk in having someone know who you are but there's also so much comfort and peace to be found in that, too and maybe you shouldn't isolate yourself and maybe you should reach for that kind of comfort in being known and loved anyways
#caroline talks#my mister#if this is incoherent. it should be#rewatched the first 2.5 episodes of my mister last night#felt like crying my eyes out the entire time tbh!!#every time i watch this show there's just something about it that hurts me more and more and there's something that makes the messages#in this show feel more and more relevant#idk. thinking a lot about when ji an talks about how sometimes she wishes. sometimes she wishes#that everyone knew what she'd done and what had been done to her.#something about how ji an can't ever bring herself to connect truly with another person because of how much she hates#the feeling of people realizing what her past looks like#and not wanting to withstand the pity and also horror. like. okay.#something about ji an sobbing by the bridge when she listens to dong hoon pummeling that loan shark guy#and how i used to always cry at that scene but now i tear up just thinking about it#because you know! there's that shock (that firstly: someone knows your miserable secret. and secondly: they're still on your side)#and then absolute heartache because you don't know what to do with that information. you didn't expect it.#you're sobbing at a bridge because someone knows who you are and someone knows the scars of your past and still gets angry and sad for you.#and you still feel like you don't deserve it because you know deep down you are not a very good person (or so you tell yourself).#and. oughough. lee ji an holds such a place in my miserable little heart
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People who say that Beauty and the Beast (1991) endorses Stockholm Syndrome and domestic abuse have very grossly missed the entire point of the story.
#disney#beauty and the beast#meta#disney meta#txt#belle was never abused once by the beast in the movie. he was really just a jerk#y'all do realize that there are people who are jerks that aren't necessarily abusive#now they might have a higher inclination for it but no beast never abused her#the scene where he lost his temper was supposed to show how much beastly nature was having a hold on him and he immediately showed regret#afterwards. as soon as belle called him out on his bad temper he never tried any other shit ever again#y'all really think that if he was abusive he would have redeemed himself THAT quickly?#again he did act like an ass but he was not an abuser. i don't think he woulda even been able to stomach doing something to her#unintentionally or not#the entire point of the story is that despite him literally being a beast belle was able to see “beauty” in him#she was able to look past that and see that he was actually a good person but that he just needed to improve himself#see belle wasn't a “i can fix him” type. she was the inspiration for him to become a better individual#being with her made him feel things he probably never felt before. he felt loved wanted desired#that is what he needed but had stayed away from because of his own insecurities#which is also why this discussion about whether he was hot in his human form or not is irrelevant in the end#belle loved him for who he was and she probably thought he was the most beautiful man in the whole world both visually and spiritually#also beast respected and loved belle. gaston only lusted her and saw her as a pontential trophy wife to boost his social status#you see gaston and beast are actually quite similar in the beginning#but the thing is that beast has virtues that gaston lacks#beast also wanted belle just to break a spell although he did try to show her humanity to show that there was an emotional complex human#being but he did genuinely fall in love with her and let her go. he sacrificed himself and his servants because he truly loved her#gaston would have never done that before he was already too far gone in his fixation with being the BEST#anyways#i have gone long enough about this but you get my point
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the reason i’m not afraid of aging is because i want to be a hot middle-aged man who has a toxic yaoi relationship with another middle-aged man
#u know i used to be so afraid of aging until i realized that i want to be a dilf. now it’s kinda exciting#i realized recently that i could never picture myself living past my twenties until i pictured myself as a man#but like. i want to be a man and a woman and nothing and everything#but like. i’m cool with how i look now for the most part idk if i would want to transition physically at least not rn#and rn i still dress fem enough that everyone goes straight to she/her#and i like she/her but it hurts rn#bc some of my family has switched to they/them or it/its and it’s just so soothing#but family that knows i don’t like it still use she/her and phrases like ‘daughter’ or whatever even more often on purpose#and it hurts bc i don’t really feel the need to change the way i dress/look but i know everyone assumes she/her#when they see me in a dress or skirt. even w how very not-cis my fashion sense is#but also i fucking hate pants which is a separate thing (prob autism tbh) and even if i wore pants they’d still use she/her#thinking of changing my name to something very masc so i can confuse people enough that they’ll stop defaulting to she/her#and i haven’t told ppl outside my immediate family so idc if they use she/her but i’m fucking pissed when ppl in the family do it#anyways side note when i was 12 my ideal gender (b4 i knew about being non-cis) was a floating consciousness w no body#or a plastic-doll-like creation that’s smooth all over#… i still want to be a floating consciousness actually lmao. it would be great#back then i hated being a girl but i didn’t know there were more options and also i was socially isolated (didn’t leave home for like 2yrs)#and my mother was openly transphobic whenever the topic was brought up so that was my only real experience#but i didn’t really internalize it other than the fact that my mother would be rude if i ever happened to be not-cis and guess what? she is#anyways it’s like 2am and also i’m only awake bc i was captivated by a sugar daddy middle aged gay fic for a show i watched like 5 episodes#for 2 years ago#sorry for rambling in the middle of the night lol#gn y’all
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devilsskettle · 2 years
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nostalgia and dread are the two emotions that i feel the strongest but i’ve realized that they’re actually the same thing, or they’re coming from the same place, like nostalgia is the dread that you’ll never be able to go back to the past, dread is the fear that you’ll never find the things you’re nostalgic for in the future (not universally but the kind of general dread of existing that i get a lot of the time) and i’m working on a couple different stories in which characters are trapped in bad situations because of nostalgia or remain in situations and seem “stuck” to others when they’re perfectly content and have no desire to strive for a different future or continue to return again and again to the same places/people/behaviors out of habit or comfort and it’s just. hm. the stories and characters are pretty different otherwise but there is an undercurrent of this nostalgia/dread duality just under the surface of everything i’m working on
#like in my one horror story a character is very much trapped and manipulated by these feelings of nostalgia and family loyalty#where the other character holds himself back with dread of the future and potential disappointments#but my other story is like completely based in this exaggerated summer nostalgia in a somewhat positive way#but also with this sense of dread and decay around them and like this other duality of childhood freedom/neglect#and then my mystery story is concerned with personal history for the main character and her fascination with other peoples personal history#through objects that she collects and studies (she collects cursed objects) (curses are proof of deep history to her)#(someone has to care a lot about something to do a curse and it’s effects last and get passed down)#so she has to return to her hometown where her childhood best friend still lives so there’s that aspect to it as well#her friend being compelled to reject change vs her wanting to go out and explore the world#but her friend is the one who realizes how much their relationship has changed and the main character has to come to accept it#etc. this dread about not being able to return to what you once had but something is still there that’s worthwhile anyway#and then another character in this story corresponds with the friend and is very comfortable staying where he is as a recluse#and he’s a taxidermist so like he also has this concern with object memory#you don’t just taxidermy an animal you know? that’s done with a lot of intentionality#so like it’s not literally about ghosts but everything is a ghost basically#and then there’s this kid who like knows all of the urban legends so again like i want to kind of explore this memory theory kind of history#on like a small scale level like just one small town#or one small item or a relationship between two people#or like how we look for connections with people through the past but also by doing so do we isolate ourselves and actually trap ourselves#like get stuck in the past with no way of moving forward or even the desire to?#anywayyyy i think i just cracked some story things by writing this out#it’s gonna be so! fucking! good! when i actually finish it lol#okay#the end#also i’d love to talk more about this. i will be taking questions if anyone cares to ask them
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dimiclaudeblaigan · 8 months
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Wrt localization, I can understand wanting to change let's say a joke if the context of the joke would be lost on people due to play on the language. But when someone changes the content of a story and characterization to the point where it's a completely different experience and then they have the audacity to say "have respect for the localizers. You support gg" or some nonsense in response to criticism, it's really disingenuous.
Not sure if you saw when I mentioned it before, but yeah. There are times when they have to make cultural changes (Pokemon did it with food to make more sense to the western audience!), change jokes that won't land in translation, etc. Those are reasonable changes that have to be made or the audience will just be confused/uninterested/disconnected.
Sometimes there are also jokes that in different cultures would be deemed inappropriate (like the sex joke aimed at Edelgard in the middle of the night - that makes sense that it was removed because western culture would've been largely uncomfortable with it). Age differences also account for this, in that what's seen as appropriate to a teen audience in JP is not necessarily considered appropriate in the west.
My viewpoint toward localization is that it should only be that. Everything else should be a faithful translation as much as is able, i.e. doesn't alter the message given in the original script. It doesn't matter if the content is from Japan, if it's a JRPG or what have you. If it was of French origin, I'd still say the same thing: that the messages and narrative of the French originating story should be handled faithfully and should be telling the same story/characterizations/etc to all audiences in any location.
Obviously in translation you can't make everything one to one or the sentences would sound off and/or broken. That's why you reword things to have the sentences structurally accurate in the translated language. Doing that, however, should not involve changing the meaning behind the sentence or trying to sell a different narrative. Doing that becomes a different story, even if only in bits and pieces. When a story nudges really fuckin' hard trying to tell you something that's wrong is right or that something right is wrong, but that narrative is only added into a loc and didn't already exist, it's a disrespect toward the writers and their original intention.
Even if, yes, the writers were very bias toward Edelgard (which they were as that was, again, confirmed in an interview), it didn't come at the cost of other characters. It didn't come at the cost of Rhea being worse, Dimitri being worse, or Claude being worse. It didn't come at the cost of her allies all being disgusted by their enemies that they were invading. They loved Edelgard when they were writing her, but they didn't make that cloud how they treated other characters (and while yes, the Nabateans get largely ignored in favor of focusing on Edelgard and such, it's not at the cost of their characterization or to make them seem worse).
Even if the loc heaps praise upon praise toward Edelgard and that doesn't harm the original intent, it's what they do to other characters that disrespects the original content. It would be like if they took FE10/RD and had Ike (who was actually just and a good person) spouting nonsense about Micaiah that just wasn't true, hyping up his allies to kill her because she Must Die.
Personally, I'm no Micaiah fan. She was one of my most hated characters in the franchise until Edelgard (and Berandetta) showed up. I still am not fond of Micaiah and she's still pretty low on the rung for me. That said, I would not enjoy a narrative where Ike wrongfully labeled her and her allies and provided his people (and the Laguz Alliance by extension) a false narrative about her. If those things about her were true I wouldn't care, but they wouldn't be. Why does that not work for Ike? Because it's not who he is as a character to say those things, and thus if he did, it means something is off.
The original has some ??? points about Edelgard that favor her/lift her up, but again, it's not doing harm to other characters. Yeah, we get the whole "they are the enemy" stuff from her side, but like... that's the point. If you team up with her, you're on her side and are seeing the story through her perspective, which makes her enemies, well, the enemies. They're viewed in a bad light on that one route.
But when you actually come into contact with the characters in question? It's not as bad as she makes it out to be. She, as the protagonist of her own story, makes other named characters and their ways of living sound very bad because she views them negatively, but we don't actually see what she claims if we personally come into contact with those characters.
What the loc does is have her say those things, understandably from her side, but then trash the characters' very characterization and personality to match her and her/her allies' opinions of them. The characters reflect her views with no pushback whatsoever, when it should be that the pushback is how those characters she talks about behave.
There should be a dissonance between her thoughts about them and who they truly are. It should make you question, "is this really right?". You should feel bad when you kill genuinely good people (like Sylvain. You shouldn't feel like he's some trash scumbag, but feel upset about his death and find yourself questioning why he had to die - not cheering for his death).
Point being, the loc changed that stuff because ??? I guess they wanted Edelgard to shine at her very absolute brightest, and the only way to do that was to harp on all the characters who opposed her. I don't understand why they would do that tbh (like I know the intent, i.e. making her look good, but I don't know why they went to such lengths to vilify her enemies and not just say hey, maybe she's wrong about these people but I'm still going to fight for her, if fighting for her is what you decided to do. The one idea I have is the final paragraphs of this post).
It just makes it feel a lot like purist culture, where if you've sided with her than they can't possibly let her be actually bad and do bad things. You've sided with her, so she simply cannot be a villain! It makes the loc team seem afraid of a concept of siding with the villains, feeling the need to change it because it's BaD to play a game/route where you do that. It feels like it's portraying the idea that if you do bad things in a video game, you condone those bad things irl.
Whether that was their thought process or not, that's exactly what it comes off as, and that since they loved Edelgard they couldn't portray her poorly unless there was no other option. In the times they do finally portray her poorly via other characters, there's always pushback in some form, like someone defending her, giving her the benefit of the doubt after everything she'd already done and still intended to do, or being sad about fighting/killing her. In the original that was still there, but the loc just added to it - just by doing a whole lot of damage to other characters in the process.
Meanwhile with Rhea, there's always negative pushback. If she does something good, there's a negative thought following her good actions. Obviously there isn't space for that to happen literally every single time, but when possible it's there. Again, this is another thing the loc amped up, and I can only guess it's because she's the head of the Church (and churches are viewed as the enemy in most JPRGs) and the main person Edelgard opposes (with no acknowledgement from the loc team, about why that is, being a bad thing).
It's like, the one time there's a game where the Church isn't actually the enemy, they... made it so that the loc reflected that the Church is still actually the enemy. Churches being the enemy are so common that it was intentionally used in the original script as a red herring. You think they're gonna be the big bads because they always are in JRPGs.
The point of that was meant to fulfill itself as a red herring, making you focus on them and scrutinize everything they said and did even heavier than you would anyone else. It makes everything Edelgard does get swept under the rug and causes the player not to notice until it's fastballed at you. That's why you end up fighting her and not the Church except if you're specifically on her route.
That was lost in loc, of course, and it got so overwhelmingly popular in the west (which I do believe is a reason they did it to begin with, i.e. made the Church the baddies by western viewpoint because the west apparently eats that shit right up) that Hopes catered most strongly toward the western audience, making the Church the big bads (who... don't even do anything wrong whatsoever in this game and hardly even exist to do so, but I can only guess they got largely ignored because they were so hated, and less positive interaction with them meant less worry of killing innocent people/more not caring about them as the enemy) of two routes out of three; not because that was the original script's intent, but because they just went with what was popular even if it went against their home game's intention. I was pretty unsurprised to find out this went over very badly with JP players.
In other words the loc was so widely understood as the true canon/intent of the story (despite its vast and drastic changes) that Hopes was crafted around the loc more than it was the original script. The loc of Houses altered so much that it changed the perception of the audience consuming it, so whether the JP writers are aware that that's why the game was consumed the way it was or not, they just knew a chunk of the western audience loved Edelgard and hated Rhea.
When I play a game I want the same story and experience that everyone has playing it. I don't want to understand it differently than it's meant to be understood and was understood in the region it was created in. If it's a dark and mature themed game, it should stay that way. It western audiences can't handle that, then the game shouldn't be played by them whether it comes out in the west or not.
If you can't handle the content of a video game, you shouldn't play it, plain and simple. No amount of "oh but I like this portion of it!" changes the overall narrative that you can't handle and/or don't like (and you wouldn't know you like a part of it if you didn't play it at all, which you did play it despite knowing it's largely not for you. If you didn't know but play it and find out, you put it down and move on). The game's messages should not be altered to fit purists or baby the players. If it needs to be edited that strongly to work in the west, my feeling on it is that it should not be released in the west.
If it is released, the story should not be altered to baby its audience. If people do play it despite that and can't handle it, it's their responsibility to stop playing it and not bitch at the people who released it (in any region) or bitch at the loc team for not changing anything (i.e. bitching that the loc team didn't change creative aspects of the story to fulfill another region's agenda).
Why does that happen though? Capitalism, quite frankly. Companies prefer the money added to their coffers than to keep the originality of a creative piece of art. They'll follow any political agenda that's popular, any social media agenda that's popular, etc, even if it means changing creativity.
They want the most people possible to purchase it, so if more people will buy the product, even if it means sullying the creative work of the original writers, they'll do it. That may not be true worldwide, but it absolutely is with many western companies. If the narrative of a game doesn't fit what western culture agrees with, they'll change it to make it so that western culture agrees with it (re: the Church).
Localization shouldn't exist to change a work of art/to change any media form for the sake of just releasing it in another region for the profit, but it does happen; hence why I prefer translation to loc. Over the years I've grown to hate western localization more and more.
If localizers have to work that badly to change what already exists (including changing the intent of the creator(s)), I have zero respect for their "efforts" for trying to alter a story and possibly even pursue a particular agenda (because we play games to have fun and enjoy something, not to have irl agendas thrown back in our faces).
Translators who go through loops upon loops to make sure the story stays as intact as possible with only changes of necessity are the ones I respect. Translating things to keep the meaning of a story is a lot more difficult and trying than just going "well how about we just completely change this and then we don't even have to think about how to work it out".
Also, there's a difference between pursuing an agenda or writing something to fix a glaring issue like racism. If there are aspects of a media that got changed in the west to eliminate racism (which is often, especially in Japan from my understanding based on other media I consume, done because of ignorance and not genuinely harmful intent), that's understandable.
That alone shouldn't alter a whole story though, and if it has to because the racism or whatever it is is that bad, then the work should simply not be released in the west! Simple as that! If it's that bad, why support those things by changing them to sound nicer/better and let the original product still generate revenue?
Now, is all localization this bad? No. Is Houses' localization bad enough that it changed an entire region's perception on the contents of the game? Yes. That's a no no for me.
I respect localization that does its best to keep the same story and change what won't work in another region (including what may be deemed unacceptable in said region or really toes a line of general regional discomfort).
I do not respect localization that sticks in the team's own biases or tries to push any kind of agenda to appeal to certain people. If a piece of creative media is created without the intention to push any kind of agenda, it should remain that way and not suddenly have things added to it for that purpose.
I respect creative media. I don't respect capitalism and changing content to cater to a specific subset of an audience, including the staff's own.
#DCB Ask#my response to this isn't just about Houses (that's a chunk of it) but also about loc itself#if I ever made a book or even just an eBook that got translated#I would NOT want what happened to Houses happening to my writing#personally I'd just straight up ask it to be removed and unavailable in that region unless/until#the people behind translating/localizing it fixed it to fit the narrative I set for my /own/ writing#if there were consumers from another region who got a different story entirely from the region I released it in#there's something wrong that happened between regions and unfortunately most ppl don't realize that#most ppl will assume whatever is in the loc was the author's intent#which means anything that looks bad in that region now reflects on me as the author#and it's even worse if it causes controversy. for example like the stuff we get in Hopes#the amount of underlying racism. I haven't seen the entire JP script but like#at this point I don't know if my concerns should be aimed at the localizers or the original writers#I wouldn't want that for my own writing. I wouldn't want people questioning ME based on loc changes#when I view in depth how I feel abt smth I prefer to put myself in the situation#and figure out how I'd feel about it. that's why with Houses I don't find it acceptable#it's not something I'd want to happen to my own writing. look at how Edelgard is viewed now overall#she's the most controversial character surrounded by negativity that FE has ever seen#despite having a character borderline identical to her in the past in one of the most beloved and acclaimed titles#and most of that is... bc of the loc :(
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weenhands · 1 year
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tiny-feisty-gay · 2 years
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it’s 5am, i’ve been up for an hour because body decided it’s time for Awake and now i’m just sad about my lack of sleep
[sad rambling in tags, feel free to ignore]
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neverendingford · 1 month
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#tag talk#watched “it follows” and I shouldn't have. didn't know it was horror going in but after a few minutes I did and I should have stopped#I'm apparently still not 100% past self-terrifying as a form of self harm. I knew I shouldn't have and I kept watching anyway#you know. most people don't know what terror is. they know fear. they know worry. they know anxiety.#terror is something different. I wish I could describe it but you really only know it when you have felt it.#that freezing up of your body. I guess some people get terror in different ways though. I freeze. others fight or flight. I just freeze.#that sense of helpless anticipation as you experience the certainty that the object of your terror is approaching. inevitably.#why fight it? you fucking can't. no matter what you do it'll always get you. it's stronger. more powerful.#hmmm. csa moment oops. I am tempted to make a joke here but I don't want to deflect from my issues.#I have trauma and I wish I didn't. I have hurt that I don't even consciously remember but my body does.#I do not have emotional trauma in the way that people have survivors guilt and feeling like it was their fault. any of those surface emotion#not calling it shallow. but like. it's like when you don't look at the needle and you don't even notice the skin prick but you feel it#you feel it hit your vein and you feel that deep body response that Something Is Not Right.#like when I got my wisdom teeth pulled and I elected to not go under for it so I was numbed but conscious for it.#part way through my body started uncontrollably shaking (well. sort of controlled. I'm good at that).#I didn't feel the pain. I wasn't afraid. but my body was feeling objective physical trauma and I had the response anyway.#I don't remember really. I don't have the surface level pain responses to the trauma.#but deep down my body knows something is wrong and I can't stop my bones from shaking even though I don't feel the pain.#hmmm. I should talk to my next therapist about this.#Lear chased off our last therapist when I was having my dissociative week after watching The Hunt.#which. tbh good riddance she was not equipped to handle us in the slightest. and we're talking to our friend/gf(?) again which is really nic#she and Lear had a few solid conversations too. which was funky cause before he snapped he didn't want anything to do with her#but we kinda had a moment where he realized he's just as fucked up as I am just differently.#anyone reading these tag talks might remember so I won't go over it again.#anyway. I'm not sleeping tonight. I think I should start taking the full pill instead of just the half. but it's just suppressing symptoms#I'm acting up because of my inner state. or maybe my inner state is tumultuous because of my outer condition? idfk#either way I'm suffering over here#not a sui risk but damn#I'm gonna finish patching the pair of pants I've been not working on for the past months
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bettycrockercorp · 2 months
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#blabbers#personal musings in the tags feel free to ignore just needed to like soliliquize to myself#learning about narcissistic abuse these last few weeks has been such a crazy and eye opening experience#i knew i was being abused while i was with m and while she was still in my life#at the time i didn't 100% concieve of it as abuse but after we graduated and weren't physically near each other i started to realize#idk all i knew at the time is that i was miserable and in her total control and didn't know how to get out#and really conflicted becuse she knew how to give enough crumbs of good times#that i couldn't even dream of leaving her#after i cut communication i did read a book about gaslighting bc i knew i was for sure experiencing that#and i read one about having a healthy relationship and that shit blew me away bc i couldn't even imagine someone caring for me like that#or just you know treating me with basic respect#but i didn't know to look into specifically narcissistic abuse just more general emotional abuse and manipulation#which helped immensely and i've healed a lot from that#and it has been totally mindblowing to learn that other people have been through this pattern of abuse#and that it's a specific pattern in the first place#AND that there are resources to help me to talk about what happened and recover from it#it's such a relief to feel like i can finally finish healing past the trauma#like fully and not just partially or mostly#anyways i'm not healed yet so time for some healthy anger: fuck you madison you made my life hell and the only consolation i have is knowing#that deep down you are more miserable than i am#get some fucking help
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be-good-to-bugs · 5 months
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why havent i been talking to the much much cooler and better older sister who is a furry and super nice and fun to talk to and cares about my opinions and feelings instead of the one who cant respect boundaries and makes me feel like a mistake and doesnt care abt how i feel
#the bin#shes also the only normal person in my family#and when i say normal i mean it in a treats other people with respect way not in a societally normal way#cause she the least 'normal' of my family in that way. which is a good thing. be a freak. autism makes u cooler by default#idk. she sthe only person who i feel like actually cares about me and my opinion and wants to hear what i have to say and views me right#i wish we talked more when i was younger. shes so nice. i hope when i move we can houngout together more and maybe watch some movies#and talk abt stuff or smth. we r probably gonna play some games together soon which is nice#i miss her. i think i can also talk to her abt how our other sister kinda sucks. i know she views her pretty highly or at least used to but#i still think i can. i dont think itll make her uncomfortable.#ive been looking over the past years with my other sister and they havent really been any good mostly#ive just been so isolated and sad that it was better than nothing but its past that point now#if id had other people to talk to then i wouodnt have soent so much time with someone making me feel worse#i also think shes just made me a worse person overall. more judgemental. the past year ive become very against that trying hard to not#and she gets very upset with me when im like hey. yknow. id rather assume the best of random strangers not doing anything that bad#i dont wanna assume everyone is an inconsiderate asshole because they arent. life circumstances we dont know about could be#the reason for this honestly pretty mild inconvenience. if u wanna think otherwise then thats fine but dont day it around me#idk. im tired of it. im still super sad but ive become a much more bright and hopeful person because im trying to be#it actually sucks to view the whole world as horrible and everyone around you ass horrible#idk. maybe i can get my other sister to do the fun stuff with me i dont like doing alone#cause it makes me unbelievably sad to realize i dont have anyone to ask anymore at all. period. but maybe it doesnt have to be that way
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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I hope this finds you well. Today is the 10th anniversary of my sister's death. She died unexpectedly when she was 20, and I was 13. My sister was so full of energy and compassion for others. She befriended probably well over a hundred people, and knew each of them by name. She taught me something that I think is demonstrated really well in Coraline (and reading it reminded me of her)--that courage is not fearlessness, but it's being afraid and standing up to that fear regardless. Off and on since she died (though more on than off in the past 5ish years), I've struggled with depression and a feeling of pointlessness in my life. The realization that someone that vibrant can suddenly vanish off the Earth has never left me. And I don't shine nearly as bright as she did. It feels like no matter what I do, I'll never leave a significant impact. I've had a lot of difficulty with college, and I'm on my second leave of absence since starting my undergraduate studies. I don't really have any career goals and have had trouble finding a career path that would be interesting and fulfilling enough to me to feel like I could stick with it long enough to make a living. But I've been doing everything I can to keep going and keep trying to get to a more stable place emotionally. To finally find my footing. Every night before I turn in I like to look at your posts on here. I find the words and advice you give to others very comforting. So, I'd first like to thank you for sharing your kindness and humor with everyone. And I'd also like to ask if you'd have any kind words or advice for me. Thanks for your time.
The main thing you should probably remember is that from the inside your sister didn't realise how bright and sparkling and energetic and compassionate she was either. We know ourselves from the inside, see only too well our pain and clumsiness, our depressions and our failures.
She was a light for you. You'd be surprised to find that you are a light for others. You shine. (Whoever you are reading this, I promise you this: you shine, and you will leave your own impact on the world.)
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