#this is not criticizing the show at all! it looks fun! if you're watching it i hope youre having fun! who knows! i might do it
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the way I would be so excited to put dead boy detectives on my watch list if I had like. any confidence at all it would get more than one season. like. congratulations to the "we cancel all of our cool and interesting new shows after one season" company for making me not wanna watch your cool and interesting new show because you'll cancel it after one season. gotta hand it to ya
#mine#netflix#dead boy detectives#this is not criticizing the show at all! it looks fun! if you're watching it i hope youre having fun! who knows! i might do it#but. the way i dont even want to get attached to it bc of Netflix's Greatest Business Strategy On The Planet
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The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare."
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game.
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss."
"What?!"
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex.
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you.
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare.
With absolutely no intention of backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out.
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous.
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you.
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep.
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face.
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once.
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you."
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?"
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam.
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?"
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask.
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you.
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close.
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take.
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist.
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely.
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him.
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger."
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing.
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency."
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles."
"Naw, you don't got to."
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender.
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer.
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor.
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head.
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount."
"And what is that?"
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends."
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?"
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends.
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation."
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes.
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there."
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine.
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal."
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh.
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual.
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?"
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out."
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check.
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly.
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck.
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away.
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch.
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely.
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder.
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see."
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part."
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders.
"I knew they would pick you."
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed.
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again.
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight."
"You're a flirt," you accuse him.
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it."
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there."
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised.
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?"
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning.
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight.
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time.
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him.
"Where you going?" He pouts.
"I just need to grab my purse."
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls.
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear."
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like."
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you.
"Do you want some company?"
"You don't have to."
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits.
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things.
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you."
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them.
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse."
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously.
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?"
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type."
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting.
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply.
"I don't think that's true," you snap back.
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly.
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight."
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place.
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment.
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says.
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head.
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach.
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind.
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both.
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?"
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you.
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours.
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers.
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him.
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms.
"I'm fine," you reassure him.
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?"
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then."
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House."
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped.
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence.
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off.
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again.
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now.
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now."
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you.
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?"
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me."
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot."
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it.
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours.
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible."
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think."
"That makes sense," he concedes.
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier."
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused.
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?"
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside.
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought.
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings.
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you.
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat.
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story.
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him.
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes.
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit.
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'."
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
"You know, whinnies?"
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?"
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there."
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?"
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you."
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder.
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly.
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?"
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises.
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?"
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright. He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want."
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own.
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional.
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control.
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong, consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing?
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together. “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.”
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you.
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.”
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it.
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself.
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?”
“I'm not.”
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual.
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea.
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in.
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder.
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang."
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?"
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal."
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing.
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout.
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four."
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers.
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more.
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May I request for Fontaine men + Childe with reader who can dance acrobatics? Reader has probably performed in front of crowds before and is famous for it.
Neuvillette loves watching you perform. That's how he met you in the first place - he was invited to a special event and there he met one of the most gifted people he's ever seen. He was so enthralled by your talents that he had to come and talk to you personally. He found you after and waited to approach you calmly, not wanting to accidentally scare you off after a long day.
After the two of you got closer and developed your relationship he makes it a point to come watch your performances as often as he can. He wishes he can support you more but with how busy he is he can't be there for every one of your performances.
Because of how busy he is you never mind giving him a private performance. If you weren't too busy during the day and not too tired by the time he comes home then you'll give him a shortened version of the performance. He's always a captive audience of one and is always very appreciative of the efforts you go through to let him feel more present in your performances.
Wriothesley didn't know you performed until you invited him to a show one day. Once he was there he found himself just as enraptured as all of the others watching you were. He makes an offhand comment about how you should have told him sooner so he could have watched you earlier.
After that he decides to come watch your shows more often. He makes it to a good amount of them so you know you can look out for him in the audience and most of the time he'll be there.
Sometimes he'll ask you to come down to the prison for a brief performance. You don't mind doing him a favour and having the Duke watch over you protectively makes you even more inclined to perform better. You want to impress him after all, and what better way to impress him than to dance your heart out at the place he spends practically all of his time.
Lyney met you when he was performing as well. The two of you were featured together and after the show you both happened to run into each other after trying to congratulate each other on a job well done. It ends in awkward yet friendly laughter and a promise to find each other after your next show together.
You two bond over time and he's always trying to finish up his sets quickly to get over to your shows and vice versa. If you guys aren't performing together then you're trying to catch each other's shows from wherever you are. You also both like to provide constructive criticism when asked for it, wanting to support each other to become better performers with each time you're on stage.
The two of you also partake in preshow rituals together, even if only one of you is performing. It's a fun way to combine both your careers and your desire to spend time with each other. It's fun for you both to make fun of the other's superstitions playfully or do the rituals together to make sure you're ready to perform and there's nothing in the world he'd trade this for.
Childe happened to stumble across one of your shows when he was travelling. He was one of the last people to leave the stage and you decided to approach him yourself. The way he sat made it clear that he was of nobility at least and the way he never took his eyes off you made you even more curious to see what he wanted.
He asks you when your next show is, and then the next, and so forth. He decides that he'll make it to every show that he can make, your eyes always looking for his in the crowd. You know he'll be there more often than not, smiling softly to yourself whenever your gaze meets his.
You slowly grow closer over time, Childe coming up to you after your shows to present you a new gift of flowers or some jewellery he felt would suit you. He tells you that he hasn't got that much time left and is supposed to be going soon. You're not sure what to make of it but he presses a kiss to your fingers and promises to come back to see you again, one he fulfils with the offer of another he speaks against your lips.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#childe x reader#ajax x reader#tartaglia x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#lyney x reader
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Im back again bc my brain is rotting , plspls , i ask of you , ghost fucking his cute gf on their kitchen counter, like imagine reader is making dinner , dressed in a cute skirt and one of his sweaters , reader looks hot ass fuck to simon , especially because they currently have a vibrating dildo inside of themselves, simon had put it there because he wanted to have fun and what was more fun than making his sweet angel suffer ? So reader is cooking with shakey hands and legs , softly whimper and sniffling while tears run down her face , frustrated that she cant do anything because she had to be a good girl , that is until reader us about to come , she doubles over the counter and her whole body is trembling, she's abo- , oh wait , Simon pulled the dildo out , leaving his poor angel edged until later after dinner , he makes her cum as much as she deserves and absolutely destroys her cunt , cumming inside of her and then fucking it back inside of her , so she can take it like a good girl while he praises her :)))) (idk why i make ts so detailed)
See here's the thing about Simon goddamn Riley: you cannot tell me this man isn't touch starved and in need of someone to push boundaries and experiment with and this would be fucking perfect for that. Enjoy!~
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To say you and Ghost were an experimental couple in the bedroom would be quite the understatement. If the storage container full of different toys and various bedroom extras wasn't proof enough, you weren't sure what was. So when this man, this touch starved man came up with the idea of making you cook dinner with a vibrator in your cunt, you weren't too surprised.
Dinner was nearly done for the night, but so were you at this point. Your legs were shaking as the vibrating toy did it's job deep in your soaked hole. Tears were starting to stain your cheeks from overstimulation as your end was keeping you teetering on the edge of absolute pleasure.
It was only when your whimpers got louder, hands unsteady to the point that you had to slam your hand on the counter to support your weight that you felt a presence behind you. "Simon...!" You whine, legs clenching together. "Please...! Cl-ohhh...!"
You cry out in disappointment, nearly a sob as you feel Ghost's hand slip beneath your pretty skirt to pull the toy from your stretched hole. "Not until after dinner darlin'," he rumbles, voice dark with arousal yet mocking at the same time.
Your mind is fuzzy, a blur as he helps you plate the food and settle in your seat, watching you with critical cocoa eyes to make sure you finished it all. You'd need all the energy you could take in before he got his hands on you. The moment your plate was clear, he's on you, pulling your seat back and out of the way as he pins you to the table from behind.
You don't miss the man's bulge pressing right against your eager cunt, whimpering as he frees it to rub along your slick entrance. "So pretty, in my sweater," he growls directly in your ear, breath so hot it makes you shiver. "But so naughty with no panties on for me."
"Pleeease Simon...!" You're practically in tears again, desperate to get back to where you wanted to be. You don't need to ask twice, sobbing out in pleasure as you feel Ghost thrust into you roughly. He fucks you harshly, the table rocking violently as he slams his cock into you over and over.
Between grunts and groans the blonde is spewing out praise left and right. Some of it is mixed with degradation, but it's all such sweet music in your ears that brings you close and closer to completion. "So close babygirl," he moans, fingers bruising on your hips. "Come for me sweetheart. Show me how good you feel."
You don't need to be told twice, crying out in pleasure as you milk his cock for all it's worth. Ghost isn't far behind you, a long moan indicating his finish as he spills inside you. You whimper and moan as he fills you, loving how full he's made you feel.
Your military husband cages you in, panting hard against your back as you both come down. You can start to feel the excess mess starting to leak out and down your thighs. A dark chuckle makes you shiver and whine a bit.
"Looks like I'm going to have to ruin you all over again sweetheart."
#bat writes#anon reqs#cod x reader#cod smut#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut
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INSIDE EVERYTHING. | ingrid engen
ingrid engen x reader
genre: smut, minor disastrous.
warnings: +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.
notes: i'm not a big fan of writing smut but i tried to use all my neurons 🤷♀️ also i wrote this when i was sleepy so maybe there are some things that don't make much sense
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.
How to solve? Ask a certain norwegian woman for her impression.
“ You're on my mind, been there all the night. I've been missing my midnight queen. ”
Rosenfeld.
❝ No. ❞ You heard Ingrid disagree before you even got fully dressed.
Arms crossed with some shorts folded, back leaning against the cabin wall and beautiful grassy eyes staring at you.
Engen looked more like a fashion critic than your girlfriend. That was the bad side of being her girlfriend: always having an opinion in what you would wear.
❝ Why not?! ❞ You would need good justifications to ditch those shorts. You walked around completely to make sure it was comfortable. ❝ It's perfect. ❞
❝ Too short. ❞ Worse than having a critical girlfriend? Having a jealous and critical girlfriend.
You and Ingrid have been dating for a year. It are flowers, there is nothing to complain about apart from the midfielder's very few inconvenient attitudes.
After all, you were also a bit inconvenient with her.
Your optical orbs landed on the norwegian, indignant and not convinced that these would be the perfect shorts for your summer vacation.
❝ But isn't that the point of shorts? ❞ You argued, extending a hand to Engen, waiting for her to give you the next shorts you would try on.
❝ Yes, but this one is shorter than the normal ones. ❞ Ingrid claimed as she watched you from top to bottom, mainly focusing on the beginning of the curve of your buttock. ❝ And your ass shows. ❞
You rolled your eyes, unzipping your shorts inside the cabin; Just the two of you, there was nothing to worry about.
You wouldn't even need to face the norwegian in person to find out her reaction, as the mirror that almost completed the wall gave it away.
❝ And what’s the problem? ❞ At that point you were mocking with her, but it was these types of comments that touched the player's heart the most. Your eyes landed on your girlfriend's reflection.
Engen was not happy about this at all. ❝ Are you kidding me? ❞ Her perplexed tone was so noticeable that it brought a silly smile off your face.
The laughter on your face was there for a long time, and so was the silence. Not so much, in reality, the only thing that passed through your ears was the scattered sounds of the store's environment.
❝ Give me the next one, miss possessive. ❞ You whispered without receiving a response. Your brow furrowed in doubt, until you noticed Ingrid's sudden approach to you.
So, you turned your body towards the woman, who suddenly handed you one of the next shorts you were going to try on. ❝ We had agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore. ❞
❝ How can I not call you that if you live up to your name? ❞ You played again, pulling down the shorts you were wearing while you felt her greenish eyes penetrate you.
Basically, it was completely fun to irritate and pay attention to the norwegian, mainly because she gave in very easily to this type of emotion.
It just wasn't expected that this time would be different. Really very different.
You threw the previous shorts on the armchair inside the dressing room and immediately put on the other one. Sincerely? That was the best.
❝ How about that? ❞ You questioned without looking back at Engen. It was comfortable, probably wouldn't be too short in your girlfriend's opinion, and it wasn't long either.
You gave the norwegian some time to formulate an impression about the shorts. And given how long it took, something positive would probably come out of those lips.
Or maybe because Engen's eyes were too busy staring at your thighs and part of your groin.
❝ Not short. And it's more practical. ❞ Gotcha. Ingrid murmured, immediately placing her index finger inside one of yours side waistbands.
Your eyes finally met the midfielder's, who had a very tempting look on her face. And you knew very well what that meant, but not for that moment.
❝ Practical? ❞ You slowly dissipated the word from your lips, confused by what was said.
❝ To take away. ❞
And gradually you discovered it. Your eyes widened, eyebrows rose in surprise and your head began to shake slowly in denial.
❝ No. ❞ You inhaled, shaking your head faster. ❝ No way. ❞ Your cheeks began to burn with tension.
❝ I didn't say anything. ❞ Ingrid smiled the stupid smile of someone who had the best idea in mind. Suddenly, you weren't the one playing with her anymore.
And yes, she is playing with you.
The finger on the waistband previously pulled you closer to Engen's body, who saw the opportunity to seal your lips quickly.
At first you forced yourself to give in, after all, who would deny a kiss from the woman of your life? Presupposedly, you moved your face inches away, before the norwegian started advancing.
❝ Shit, Ingrid. We are not doing it. ❞ You whispered, placing the palm of your hand on the woman's lips and gently pushing them. ❝ We are in public. ❞
❝ No, we are not. ❞ Engen played with the situation once again, moving your hand away. ❝ Please, it will be quick. ❞
Your optical orbs stared at the stupid malicious expression that the midfielder carried on her beautiful and angelic face.
The long silence without responding to the norwegian was the key for Ingrid to carefully seal her lips again. Slowly, your body was pushed against the mirror on the wall. ❝ The chances of them seeing us are low, Kjære. ❞ (darling.)
Your body was already warm from the closed and small place that was the cabin, and now with your girlfriend touching you? It was like adding gasoline in aflame.
Ingrid controlled her lips so well, being nice and slow until you got used to the situation. The taller girl's long, cold, left-handed fingers slid down your torso, looking for some treasure while the other hand delicately grabbed her jaw.
You grunted between the kiss, perhaps due to the tension, to the lack of breath that was present or owing to the fear of someone opening that door.
Your eyes closed, giving up on the situation you found yourself in. Your mind focused on the sweet flavor of Ingrid's lip flesh and creating scenarios of an employee opening that door.
The only thing that sounded inside that semi-dark room were the sticky lips mixing and the sound of the environment.
❝ Ingrid— ❞ You murmured between the kiss, which slowly broke from the moment Engen led them south.
The norwegian's lips found themselves on the skin of the curve of your neck. And that was the final step for you to finally give yourself to the woman.
Your fingers slipped between the black strands, combing and pressing them each time Ingrid gently nibbled or sucked your skin.
If you were looking at her correctly, you could easily see how the midfielder had a short and emphatic smile.
Lips half-open, echoing muffled sounds and your skin getting chills more and more. It was magnificent, incredible and crazy how a certain norwegian woman could make you ecstasy.
❝ That's a bad idea. ❞ The words slowly came out in a murmur between muffled grunts. Ingrid increasingly enhanced her lips on your skin.
The midfielder had the talent of always studying your body with tenor and affection, it was a gift to have Engen's delicate lips glued to your figure.
But despite this, your concern for the environment was the counter to affectionate touches. Even though every cabin had a door, they didn't lock.
And being inside for more than six minutes was also a danger, at some point someone would enter there.
❝ Trust me. ❞ Engen finally released her lips from your body, but it screamed, begged to have her back.
You hated Ingrid for always leaving you at ease in situations like this, always halfway. At this point, your legs were almost begging to open and let the Norwegian do whatever she wants with you.
It was a fight. You wanted to, but you also didn't.
But in reality, there was no turning back from this; Your needy and passionate side won.
Screw it. You're in public, people should see how much you love each other. People should watch how you loved being touched like that.
Ingrid finally reached her fingers at the beginning of your genitals through your shorts, gradually touching them with just her index finger.
Your body was sensitive, any touch was enough to make you grunt or arch. The norwegian's fingerprint did not rub, but slid, circularly.
Even though the fabric of the shorts is thick enough to not feel the outside touch, Engen had the capacity to do so.
It was the wet lips touching your skin and marking it, it was the slightest touch of the long finger in the region of your genitals; Ingrid wasn't even inside you and your breathing was so heavy.
Your lungs inflated and deflated as quickly as a marathon runner's, a strong struggle between containing the slightest groans and finding breath for the situation.
❝ Do you want me to stop? ❞ Engen murmured between her lips glued to your skin, slowly pulling away and resting her eyes on your face. ❝ We can do this at home. ❞
Despite all this attitude, Ingrid was a person with a strong personality, always putting your well-being first.
The norwegian's fingers, too. They stopped, but without leaving their place.
You took a second breath before confirming your answer. You shook your head negative, finally giving your answer.
❝ Please, no. ❞ Your lips wet with your own drool, hardly satiated because you were busier moaning.
Your body began to release drops of sweat, your sly eyes looked at Engen; carrying the stupid horny smile.
Her left hand slid down to the south of your thighs, pressing your fingers against the norwegian's wrist. You slowly guided her delicate hand into your shorts, unzipped.
Therefore, the midfielder's fingers were a tissue away from her clitoris. Your gaze stared into the greenish optical orbs, somewhat perplexed by his sudden attitude.
❝ Finish what you started. ❞ You brought your lips close to your girlfriend's ear area, enough to whisper.
You freed her wrist, intending to give Engen full consent to touch your body however she wanted. Your arms rose and wrapped around the player's neck.
Slowly, Ingrid wet her own fingers with her lips, lubricating them. The ring finger started the touching, even over the panties.
It was slow, but well done. The midfielder had a lot of experience when it came to creating elation in you.
The circular movements were enough to make you grunt and muffle the sounds on Engen's skin, indirectly begging her to do more and more.
Within seconds, the only thing you could feel was Ingrid's finger invade your clitoris, especially when you noticed your panties being dragged to the side.
Exposed to her and everything, your eyes refused to look at anything other than the cabin door. You had many missions: not to moan so loud, not to grunt and not to make any rough movements.
After all, you were one step away from being in public.
Ingrid's ring and middle fingers did not penetrate, but rubbed against your warm vaginal skin. From side to side, top to bottom.
And that was enough to make you act like she had two fingers inside you. It wasn't a lie when it was said that your skin is sensitive.
With each second it increased in intensity like a sports car starting up, Ingrid moved her fingers so well that you even wondered if that was the woman you knew.
Your face was buried in the midfielder's collarbone, muffling short, sly moans that left your lips.
❝ Damn, Ingrid. ❞ Even though you were busy blocking out the sounds coming out of you, there was still space to murmur your loved one's name.
Engen acted concentrated, rubbing her fingers on you, which inch by inch entered you. But also, the woman's cold lips touched your skin.
Body arched towards your girlfriend, fingers leading towards the long black strands of her. You bit your own lips with each long finger you received, stopping the moans from coming out.
Slowly, you could feel the sweat dripping down your entire body, especially on the inside of your thighs. A sweat so powerful that it was enough to slide.
The heat inside the dressing room was so intense that the mirror fogged up every minute, perhaps due to the control over your bodies.
❝ Relax. ❞ Engen murmured so low that it was difficult to decipher, even close to your ear.
You didn't know what to say and didn't even know what to think: you didn't know whether to moan the norwegian's name, order her to stop due to the tension or beg for more.
And down there, it was impossible to describe what was happening. Ingrid wrapped her fingers around it, took it out and put it back in several times and always increased the intensity as if she knew exactly what she was playing with.
Engen played with your body as if she knew every detail and secret of yours.
❝ Fuck. ❞ You repeated this once, twice, three times, almost increasing your intonation. Your mind surrendered to Engen, surrendering so much that you even forgot you were in public.
Your very long arms pressed more and more around the taller woman's neck, mainly as a bridge to sink your face even further into her neck.
The norwegian brought her lips back to your neck, carefully kissing your skin, but also biting it.
On your private part and now on your neck? This was the perfect combo, but at the same time crazy. It was at that moment that you were sure you were crazy about Ingrid Engen.
But you were so focused on praising her and moaning the norwegian's name that you completely forgot you were in public.
Especially on a Saturday night, where people go out to buy clothes and try them on. Which meant your time was limited.
At that moment, even though you were mentally occupied with Engen's face and fingers, it was very noticeable steps meters away heading towards you.
Your eyebrows arched, immediately pulling the player's hand away; even though she had noticed it too, since she had stopped moving her fingers.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
❝ Men hva i helvete. ❞ (what the fuck.) Ingrid murmured so swiftly that it didn't even sound norwegian. The woman's body reacted so quickly by moving towards the armchair, that Engen seemed experienced in being caught in act.
And you were no different. The only problem is that you only had the opportunity to stare at the door, praying that whoever opened it wouldn't notice anything.
The footsteps approached and stopped, knocking twice on the door and asking permission to open it just a crack.
❝ Yes? ❞ You responded to the touches with a fragile intonation, as you were trying to catch your breath.
❝ Sorry to interrupt, but I noticed that you've been in there for almost twenty-five minutes. ❞ A female voice came from outside. ❝ Is everything ok? ❞
You took a while to respond, as you were more concentrated and having difficulty taking off your shorts due to the sweat caused.
❝ Yes, everything fine. I am leaving soon! I just need... ❞ Your eyes fell on Engen, who carried a stupid smile of someone who was clearly holding back a laugh. ❝ ...Fold the clothes I wore. ❞
❝ No need, just leave the ones you won't use on the counter after you leave. ❞ The door gap has closed. ❝ Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. ❞
An uncomfortable silence remained inside the cabin, you wiped off the little sweat that remained on your own neck.
❝ I knew this would happen! ❞ You finally said something, looking at Ingrid.
❝ If you had known it was going to happen, you wouldn't have accepted it, miss moans loudly. ❞ Engen got back at you, expressing short laughs that were definitely meant to stress you out.
❝ But I— ❞
She got up and walked towards the door, carrying the other shorts you had already worn. ❝ Can we finish at home? ❞ At this point, Ingrid was making fun of you.
❝ ...Fuck you. ❞ That was the only thing you said before pushing the Norwegian; which barely moved. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.
You put on your own pants, soon carrying the shorts you were previously wearing between your fingers. Now, you were forced to buy it.
❝ We will never do this again, you idiot. ❞
#woso#barça femeni#fc barça#ingrid engen#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen fic#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni
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Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)
First, /screams
Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.
Third, /screams more
Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.
Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.
The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.
Uh. Well.
As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.
God bless.
Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.
As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.
Ouch.
And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.
Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.
Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...
Gets. Shot. Down.
Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.
I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.
(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)
I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.
I repeat: Ouch.
Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --
/screams
Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?
And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?
... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.
Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --
Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.
The thing is:
Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.
So he's going to have to come back Down.
He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.
Now if you will excuse me, /screams
#good omens#good omens meta#good omens s2#good omens spoilers#ineffable husbands#look this probably could have been twice as long#but i had to stop somewhere#I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS
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Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias comes from D20 being edited? It gives the appearance of much more effortless play and lets them control the pacing in a way unedited play like CR simply can't do. They get to (potentially) hide a lot of stuff people would jump on as flaws while CR has no choice but to let it all play out. I greatly prefer CR's approach, despite it biting them in the ass a bit through no fault of their own.
Answering these both together to group cause and my opinions, and I do want to note this is specifically about journalism/press coverage, not their respective fandoms even though there's obviously some overlap.
I think there's a couple things, but I do want to note this was actually prompted by Daggerheart, not Critical Role. The response from several prominent voices in the Actual Play journalism community, whom I will not name here but whom I do not respect intellectually, really was, within hours of the open beta (which as far as I know they didn't have early access to - more on that later) "um it could be better, I don't like xyz and also it's sooooooo important to have criticism" and again, it is important to have criticism, but also you act like D20 has never had a mediocre moment and that Kollok is brilliant, so.
This...got away from me a bit. I'd say I'm sorry but actually I adore writing thousands of words about actual play and it will happen again but I'm putting the detailed answer below a cut. The short answer is I think a lot of Actual Play journalists actually sort of fell into their jobs through being vaguely involved in nerd spaces and aren't actually equipped to talk intelligently about TTRPGs and actual play as a medium that should, at its best, be a perfect fusion of narrative and mechanics. So instead they're distracted by flashy edits and bright lights and cool noises and some abstract concept of "novelty" and write only about that. Also Critical Role is the 700 lb gorilla in the AP space (though not, actually, the TTRPG space) and doesn't give them early access and that's meaaaaaan. Indeed, for all I think a lot of their coverage of D20 and Worlds Beyond Number is obsessively fawning, I also think it's extremely surface level, frequently factually wrong, and fails to get at what's truly excellent about those shows either.
I think, honestly, the biggest one is that I don't actually think a lot of Actual Play journalists watch series in full. I was looking for Polygon coverage of Fantasy High Junior Year and they have one glowing article but it's more about Fantasy High as setting and institution and D20 "changing the game" (also more on this later) to the point of outright contradicting the pull quotes they used from interviewing Brennan Lee Mulligan (also more on this later). So I started looking through their coverage and actually, quite a number of their write-ups are based on only one episode, or half a season. Clearly, they haven't read the full open beta (nor have I, but I think their complaints about the character build process belie a profound misunderstanding of what TTRPGs are, also more on this later). So editing is certainly part of it because it's really easy to see cool special effects and sound design within one episode and shit out a hacky article about it, whereas actually getting to the substance - character relationships, cohesive narrative, storytelling - requires work that I do not think they're doing. And on the one hand I do kind of get it, because yeah, if journalism is your livelihood then you perhaps do not have the time to watch 4 hours of D&D a week for 2-3 years if you're only going to get one article every six months out of it. But I don't think the answer is "focus intently on Microsoft Powerpoint-esque scene transition tricks while ignoring that nothing occurring at the table is actually fun to watch." For more on this, see this post.
The second, which is very relevant to Daggerheart but also is actually a big gap in D20 and WBN coverage in my opinion, and which I put in the tags, is that I actually don't think a lot of journalists have a solid understanding of TTRPGs nor of most genres. And I think Critical Role has a particularly good understanding of both these things, actually, if one skewed towards collaborative storytelling that is not rules-light. I think one really big example is that one person within the space is mad at the Daggerheart questions for the character archetypes because what if your character doesn't fit these. I think this is dumb as shit. I actually think that a common criticism of D&D - that you can't play ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING - is not valid, or rather, it's a valid opinion to hold but if you want to play a character who doesn't fit into the available archetypes perhaps you need to find another game. We all inherently understand that Blades in the Dark characters will be members of a criminal organization in a relatively low-magic setting, correct? That you can't show up to BitD and play a lawful good wizard prince because that's not the story being told? Or like, how in Honey Heist, you are a bear and you are trying to get honey, and you cannot play a human child investigating the old abandoned house at the edge of town, but there's a cool game called Kids on Bikes that will let you do that? Great! Why is this suddenly so hard to understand in the realm of heroic fantasy, that you will fit into specific archetypes? Why do people's brains, if they have them to begin with, vanish suddenly? I know I just did a big old rant that included this within it but genuinely I think a lot of people are deeply ignorant of heroic fantasy, or don't like it, and either is fine, but then they get mad at the heroic fantasy game for having heroic fantasy archetypes when the answer is "maybe this will never make you happy because it's not for you." (Frankly, I think this is also why they love D20, because it doesn't really do straight-up heroic fantasy, and that's fine, but they do keep acting like doing a Game of Thrones pastiche is equivalent to the invention of the wheel.) Like...I remember in the Midst Q&A that Xen said they tend to not like playing typical D&D classes, but their solution was to, you know, create Midst instead of sitting around going "actually, because D&D doesn't support cyberpunk narrative and the character archetypes within very well it is an utter failure." (I could go on forever about how actually TTRPGs are not a showcase for your already extant OCs to prance around but that's a totally separate post).
Mechanics and story are inherently intertwined, is what I'm trying to get at (sorry I'm really tired and have a lot to do but I'm passionate about this answer, it will be rambly, she says like 3 pages in) and I really don't think most actual play journalists get this. At all. And I do think that CR, and Daggerheart, and the people working for it, and especially Spenser Starke, Rowan Hall, Matt Mercer, and Travis Willingham, get this more than almost anyone else in the field. I also think Brennan Lee Mulligan and Aabria Iyengar get this, and the thing is, for all the praise showered upon them, much of which I think is deserved and most of what I think is undeserved is not because they are lacking but because the person writing about them is an idiot crediting them for things they (Brennan and Aabria) would never claim to have invented, their mechanical prowess is rarely if ever written about well. Fantasy High Junior Year's downtime mechanics actually fill in a famous gap in D&D, namely, downtime, and provide an excellent marriage of story and mechanics in my opinion, and I haven't really seen any discussion, because that would require watching the part of the TTRPG show where they play the TTRPG, and knowing the vague word on the street about D&D criticism that isn't just "*nods sagely* capitalism is the BBEG."
And finally: related a bit to the edit but Critical Role used to not be able to provide any early access to press, because it was literally a live show, and I suspect they never broke the habit, and I think that is for the best. As discussed a lot of D20 coverage actually feels like they watched the press screener and then never returned to the show. And I do not know the politics about them, but given that several of these publications (notably Polygon, but some others) have been shitting on Critical Role for several years, and just generally given the way CR's leadership vs. how D20's leadership respond to fandom pressure, I suspect Critical Role does not give these journalists a ton of early or increased, if any. Honestly, why should you, if you're getting interviewed in Variety? And I think the journalists are mad, because they think they're special and should get treated as such.
I do want to wrap something up, and I want to thank @captainofthetidesbreath for talking a little about this in game design/ttrpgs and giving me the idea, but in story, you should be challenging your audience, expanding their horizons, and being new and interesting. In the actual playing of TTRPGs, especially a new one, it is vital to be inclusive and easy to understand and patient and provide points of reference. I really feel like many Actual Play journalists and some TTRPG ones as well have this equation flipped and are looking for challenging concepts that most people will never be able to get a group to be willing to play, and bells and whistles in production, but leave story as an afterthought. Critical Role designs games to actually be played and to be used specifically to tell good stories, and puts story before production, and I think that undercuts those journalists' whole deal.
#answered#Anonymous#long post#cr tag#anyway though i am going to go lie down and try to take a nap bc the daylight savings got me but good.
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Bad Boy (Chico Malo)
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader
Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.
AN: I just rewatched 9.08 and I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. 😂 But Dean and Suzy’s Casa Erotica-inspired tryst gave me an idea for this little one-shot in the Espresso-verse. I'll release this fun one ahead of "Show Me," since that one's more angsty hurt/comfort.
Word Count: 900
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smuttish, implied "self-care."
This story can be read as stand-alone, but you can also check out the full masterlist of one-shots below. ⤵️
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
“¿Eres un chico malo?”
You wrap the towel tighter around yourself as you get ready to leave the bathroom after a nice hot shower. But your brow quirks as a woman's lusty voice and Mariachi music reach your ears. It’s a familiar tune…
Oh my God, you think. You open the door with a quiet turn of the knob, so you can try to confirm your suspicions.
Sure enough, your boyfriend is laid out across his side of the bed. The blanket covers him up to the waist, and his laptop rests by his bent knees. The screen illuminates his face, alight with both amusement and pleasure. There’s no mistaking the languid strokes bobbing under the covers.
It’s not the first time you’ve caught Dean red-handed, as it were, but it’s the first time that actually makes you laugh.
“Babe, what’cha watching?” you ask.
Dean’s face falls quickly into mortification. He shuts his laptop, halting the sounds of feminine passion and maracas. His other hand slides out from under the covers and he sets the computer on his nightstand.
You bite your lip to stifle your grin. You pad over to his side of the bed, where he offers you a sheepish smile.
He clears his throat. “Uh, hey.”
“Hey,” you reply with a chuckle. You caress his stubbled cheek. “Don’t worry, Señor Smooth. I was just curious. Maybe I could’ve joined you.”
His brows raise at that. Pleasant surprise takes over his features, making his lips twitch. His hand finds your hip and squeezes lightly through your towel.
“Oh, yeah?” he asks. "Up for a little movie night?"
You smirk and look over at the old DVD case on the nightstand. As you suspected, it’s Casa Erotica: Special Features Edition. You only frown when you realize Suzy Lee is the “special feature,” all blonde and blue-eyed and pouty lips.
Your more narrowed gaze turns on Dean, who notices your shift in demeanor and tenses a little himself. You take his chin between your fingers.
“My only problem is that you’re jerking off to a girl you’ve actually had sex with!” you say incredulously, brows raised. Yes, you know their tryst was long before he even met you, let alone before you two started dating, but your point stands.
“And you’re doing it in our bed,” you add.
That realization finally hits Dean as well. He grimaces, giving you an apologetic look.
“Uh, yeah…sorry,” he says. At your silent expression of irritation, he becomes even more earnest. He wraps his hand around yours. “Really, I’m sorry.”
You're still mad, but he does look sincere and contrite. Eventually, your temper begins to cool. You let out a sigh and shake your head.
You know he’s new to this whole boyfriend thing. Still, you think this is just common sense.
You pick up the DVD case with a more critical eye.
“And you know what, Suzy’s hot and all, but don’t you think they could’ve found a Latina to play Carmelita?” you gripe.
At that, Dean's lips twitch at a grin. His hand ventures under your little towel, smoothing up one leg and squeezing your thick thigh.
“You anglin’ for the job, sweetheart?” he teases.
You snort in response. Your eyes meet his, and you have a hard time tapering your smile. His salacious grin is too much.
And yet, he may be on to something. Setting down the DVD, you tilt your head at him and move in closer. You hum in contemplation, letting your fingertips graze over Dean’s lips. They travel further, down his neck, circling over his anti-possession tattoo, and down his chest.
His green eyes lock on your hand, then on the rest of you as your knee meets the edge of the bed, by his hip.
You startle him a little when you tear the blanket away from his waist, exposing the rest of him to your gaze. But you don’t give him too long to be surprised before you climb aboard to straddle his bare thighs. You hold his face in your hands, and he grips your waist to stabilize you.
His eyes roam over the hint of cleavage greeting him between ample breasts and smooth, tan skin.
“You’re not like the other guys in town, are you?” you ask, in your best attempt at smooth and sultry.
Dean eats it up. His eyes widen and his mouth parts with soft surprise as he catches onto what you're doing, but it soon melts into excitement. He plays along with the script he knows by heart.
“No I’m not, pretty girl,” he answers. You let your hands drift down his body again, less grazing this time, and more purposeful, making tingles run over his skin. You lean in close, ghosting your lips over his, across his jawline.
“¿Eres un chico malo?” you ask. Your voice sounds like black velvet in his ears, making his cock twitch against the inside of your thigh. His hold on your hips tightens.
He swallows, and manages to reply. “Sí.”
You nip at his earlobe and tease the shell of his ear with your tongue.
“Mmm. Malo, pero hermoso,” you croon.
A shiver runs down Dean’s spine, and his eyes close. He utters a low groan when you begin to grind down on his lap, feeling the hard length of him between your legs. He murmurs your name.
You pull back just enough to see his face and sink your hand into his hair, gentle but firm. You give him a smile.
“Tonight, you can call me Carmelita.”
AN: 😂 I had fun with this lmao. Hope you enjoy!! ❤️🔥
Spanish Translations:
“¿Eres un chico malo?”
"Are you a bad boy?" - Taken right from the episode lol.
"Malo, pero hermoso.”
"Bad, but beautiful."
Keep Reading:
Next up in this series is another two-parter, "Show Me":
Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.
▶️ Next Story: Show Me (Part 1)
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A Star from Another Universe
Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader/Idol!Reader
Summary: What if Alice found you when you first arrived in Teyvat? Alice nursed you back to health, and you stayed with her until you healed. One day, Alice goes up to you while you're babysitting Klee and asks you what your thoughts are on becoming an idol.
Note: I have been having so many random AUs recently that I need to get it out of my head. This is Idol!reader AU for the ongoing Isekai'd!reader one-shot series! :> This entire story is what I have had on my mind for a while, and I honestly don't mind making a "small" headcanon on what kind of fans the men are. Since there are almost thirty people in the harem. Anyway! I hope all Al Haitham wanters are Al Haitham havers! :> I was able to get him on my NA account and my Asia account ^^ Keep in mind that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of 🤔
Word Count: 8.7k
The day you appeared mysteriously in Teyvat, a woman took you under her wing to nurse you back to your healthy state. The woman went by the name Alice; she was a sweet woman who mothered you as if you were her own child. Alice is not only charming, but there’s something about her that makes her feel so powerful, almost intimidating.
You’re not from Teyvat or their universe; you’re an outlander, but you’re not like the two blonde outlander twins searching for their kin. You’re an outlander whose existence does not belong in their universe; you just mysteriously appeared in their world without an explanation. Not even Alice can figure out what brought you to Teyvat.
A few weeks after the injuries you sustained from being thrown into Teyvat had healed, Alice approaches you one day while you’re outside playing with Klee. Today is the second time you’re tasked to babysit Klee while Alice is out and about tending to her business; you nearly got bombed with the fishes in the lake. It was not fun, but Klee made it up to you by giving you a small dodoco plush similar to the one hanging off her backpack.
“[Y/N], sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Alice asks, walking up to you while Klee is chasing a crystal fly five feet away from you two.
You give Alice a smile and wave at the woman. “I’m doing great! The concoction you have given me for my injuries has helped me greatly. I really appreciate it, Alice,” you said sincerely.
Alice pulls you into her arms and rubs your back. “That’s great to hear, sweetheart,” Alice coos.
You hug Alice back, and the two of you pull away from the hug. You hear Klee scream with joy; you turn to look, only to see Klee jumping up and down in the air while cheering that she finally caught a crystal fly. Klee looks over at you and Alice; her eyes light up before making her way toward you and Alice.
“Look what I got!” Klee squeals, holding her hand out to show you and her mother the anemo crystal fly in the palm of her hands. “Isn’t it pretty?” Klee asks in awe.
Her eyes fill with wonder as she watches the crystal fly flutter out of her hands. Klee pouts and turns around, running off to catch another crystal fly. You look at Alice and notice her looking at you from head to toe, her chin propped up on her fist, head tilting to the side.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Alice?” You ask, laughing nervously.
Alice purses her lips and squints at you. “What do you think about becoming an idol?” Alice asks.
Your eyes widen. “An idol?! Like, singing and dancing in front of a large audience?” You squeak.
Alice nods. “That is correct! What do you think about being an idol? I think you have the potential to be a worldwide idol,” Alice says.
She turns you around, continuing to look at you from head to toe. You have no idea how it’s going to work out. You being an idol while you’re from another universe? Would the fans and critics even care about your origins and background? There’s no way you can be an idol in Teyvat— no way at all.
After that day and the conversation between you and Alice, you find yourself sitting on a chair backstage. You look at your reflection in the mirror while the stylists are getting you ready for your performance. It’s been a year since the conversation between you and Alice, and now you’re an idol.
It’s strange and sudden; it feels like a blur, and everything around you has changed so much and so fast that you end up getting whiplash from it all. You lean back in your seat and close your eyes, letting the makeup artist apply sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids, putting small gemstones at the corner of your eyes. Alice insisted you become an idol so you can thrive in Teyvat. When she told you that, you knew she was telling you to get off your ass and get a job. You don’t mind getting a job in Teyvat, but getting a career as an idol? That is something you would never imagine yourself being.
“How much time do you guys need before [Y/N] goes up on stage to perform again?” The security asks, peeking into your dressing room.
“Give us five more minutes, and we’ll have [Y/N] out on stage soon,” Emilia, your makeup artist, says, dabbing a little bit of foundation on your face.
You didn’t expect much when you first started as an idol. You had low expectations for yourself because why would anyone be a fan of an idol that did not belong in their universe? Especially when you don’t know what region they’re from; many have speculated that you’re from one of the seven nations in Teyvat, but all continued to be speculations and have never been confirmed nor denied.
Your existence and general background are shrouded in mystery. That’s what made you appealing to your audience; your fans. Despite being a charming and appealing idol, you’re still mysterious, and that’s what the fans love about you. You have a lot of fans, even more than you expected. You expected to have around fifteen fans, but you were wrong. Your popularity is booming, and it excites Alice (she is also your agent). She has booked you many interviews and TV shows (she also wants you to have a background in acting) and booked as many performances as possible to get your name out in Teyvat.
Within two months of your debut as an idol from another universe (that is what you’re known for), your face is all over magazines, billboards, posters, and advertisements and many people know your name and music. Who doesn’t know you and your music? Even adeptis and archons from seven nations know your existence and music— perhaps even Celestial gods know of your existence, but you don’t know that. You’re living the luscious life, showered in attention, Mora, precious gems, and expensive fabrics.
“I wonder if there are people that claim to be my biggest fan,” you mutter.
Emilia places her makeup brush down on the table and looks at you curiously. “I’m sure there are people that do! My niece says that she’s the biggest [Y/N] fan,” Emilia replies, smiling at you.
You crack your eyes open and look at Emilia with interest. “Is that so? Has she been to one of my concerts before?” You ask.
You look at your reflection in the mirror and stand up. You fix and adjust your stage outfit. Each set of your performance has specific clothing made for the set performance. One of your favorite outfits out of all the things you have worn to perform is usually the one that is saved for last. It’s silver and white; you have tinsels in your hair, and the gem in the corner of your eyes would sparkle each time you winked (not really, it was the lighting that made them glimmer).
Emilia nods her head, smiling widely. “She’s currently in the crowd with her mother and father. They’re really excited to watch you perform,” said Emilia.
“Well, I am excited to perform for your niece and her parents,” you said. “I’m ready for my performance now. I’ve been keeping them waiting for way too long,” you brush your hair over your shoulders and turn to Emilia.
Emilia nods her head and watches you leave the dressing room. You’re guided to the lower part of the stage behind the curtains. You’re instructed to stand in the center of the stage trapdoor and were handed the microphone. You can hear loud cheers, screams, and excited chatter from the audience. No matter how many times you have performed, you will always be nervous about how the performance is going to turn out.
“Good luck! You’re going to do great!” Alice squeezes your arms with an encouraging smile.
You let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Alice,” you breathe.
Itto and Gorou shove their way through the crowd of roaring fans; Itto has a large sign in his hands while Gorou is holding onto glowsticks. Gorou mutters a soft “excuse me,” “pardon me,” as he and Itto weave through sweaty people. Once both Itto and Gorou have gotten to the front of the row, Itto sees how close they are to the stage. On the front row in front of the stage, aside from Itto and Gorou, were twenty-three other men standing in front of the stage barrier, waiting for the performance to start.
“[Y/N]’s number one fan? Psh! I doubt it,” Itto hears someone scoff.
Itto turns to the man beside him and sees a ginger-haired Snezhnayan man, also holding up a sign with your name plastered on it. Itto raises his eyebrows at the Snezhnayan man and looks over at the dark brown-haired man beside the ginger.
“Childe, please refrain yourself from starting fights at a concert,” Zhongli mutters, glaring over at the man beside him.
“Yeah, Childe. Why are you upset to see me, [Y/N]’s number one fan, coming out here to support them?” Itto asks, glaring at the ginger-haired male.
Gorou laughs nervously and taps Itto on the shoulders. “Itto, I don’t think we should be getting into fights either. Not only will that get us kicked out, but people around us can also get injured,” Gorou explains.
Childe laughs. “If you’re [Y/N]’s number one fan, then how come you weren’t in the first row throughout the entire performance? This is the first time I have seen you in the first row,” Childe raises his eyebrows at the oni.
Itto narrows his eyes at Childe and eyes Childe from head to toe. Childe has a bandana wrapped around his forehead with your name in the center. A sign in Childe’s grasp has the words, “❤❤ PLEASE MARRY ME [Y/N] ❤❤” written in capitalization in colorful markers. Hearts are scattered around on the white sign, glitter lining the borders of the sign, and your name is big and bold in gold. Itto lets out a scoff, a smirk appearing on his face.
“How desperate and pathetic,” Itto thinks to himself.
Itto turns to look at the stage, watching people prepare for the next performance. Diluc peeks from Kaeya’s shoulders and rolls his eyes when he sees Itto and Childe’s signs. It’s almost laughable in a way, but Diluc shouldn’t be the one to judge since he, himself, has a sign as well.
“Archons, how did we get stuck near those two idiots?” Diluc mutters, rolling his eyes.
Kaeya snickers. “Relax, brother. They won’t start anything other than an argument. We’ve seen them argue on public forms before; it’s normal at this point,” Kaeya says.
“They also snuck their way into the first row. Apparently, Itto weaved his way through the crowd to get in front of the stage barrier,” Albedo says casually, looking at the stage designs and stage lights.
Venti taps Albedo on the shoulders. “Don’t you know [Y/N]’s agent? If so, can you get us all backstage passes to meet the [Y/N]?” Venti asks eagerly.
“I thought we’re already going to meet [Y/N]? Didn’t the front-row tickets get us the chance to have a meet-and-greet with [Y/N]?” Aether asks, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a sip of his water.
“Last time I checked, it says guaranteed. Therefore, we are going to meet [Y/N] backstage after the concert,” Dainsleif says, resting his arm on the steel stage barrier.
“Why after the concert? We’re all going to be smelling like each other’s body odor while sweating at the same time,” Scaramouche grumbles, glaring at the person that accidentally brushed up against him.
“To be honest, I would rather meet [Y/N] after the concert than before the concert because they’ll remember us when they go home,” Heizou says, shrugging his shoulders.
“But we’re going to be sweaty when we meet them,” Tighnari sighs in discontentment, scratching his ears with irritation.
“Hey, we’ll be meeting them after their performance. I’m pretty sure they’re going to be just as sweaty as we are, if not, maybe sweater than us because they’re the one that’s performing,” Thoma shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the steel barrier while waving the glowstick in the air subconsciously.
The lights in the stadium soon dim, causing everyone in the stadium to quiet down. Kazuha taps on Xiao’s shoulders, motioning for him to crack the glowstick for it to illuminate. Xiao searches around on his person for the glowstick, only to realize that he had dropped it somewhere while getting seated in the stadium.
“I seem to have lost it,” Xiao mutters, his eyebrows furrowing while his hands continue to roam around his body, searching for the glowstick.
Kazuha gives Xiao a sympathetic smile. “That’s okay, Xiao! I have a spare glowstick,” Kazuha says, handing Xiao the uncracked glowstick.
A faint smile appears on Xiao’s face as he takes the glowstick from Kazuha’s grasp, quietly thanking the samurai shyly. Xiao cracks the glowstick, and it immediately lights up. The sound of footsteps echos the quiet stadium, and the stage lights shine down on a white box. The crowd stares at the box with anticipation and sees your silhouette rising in the box.
Loud cheers and screams erupt from the audience, colorful stage lights come on, the box you’re in is suddenly knocked down, and you step out onto the stage.
“They’re even prettier in person,” Kaveh whispers to himself, covering his mouth as he watches you start the performance for over one hundred thousand attendees.
“They’re very mesmerizing,” Baizhu says in awe, not taking his eyes off of you.
Al Haitham watches you dance and sing on stage. The way the light shines down on you, trails after your movement, confetti flying in the air and raining down on you and the audience is a sight to see. Your face is on the big screen; you make eye contact with the kamera man and send a wink to the kamera, the gem at the corner of your eyes sparkling.
“Not only are their performances flawless and beautiful, but they are as well,” Al Haitham says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Cyno chuckles beside Al Haitham. “That’s why they’re known as the world-class performer, Al Haitham,” Cyno replies.
With the music blaring, and the audience screaming for your attention each time you walk by them, the men doubt the others would be able to hear them voicing out their thoughts. Every time you walk by the front row close to the men, they would scream as loud as they can and wave their signs, trying to get your attention. Your eyes will sweep over the VIP section of the stadium, smiling and waving at the section. Your music is blasting in the background; you have earplugs in your ears; your stage outfit looks immaculate, and your hair and makeup are flawless as usual.
Wanting to grab your attention, Pantalone pulls out a generous-sized bag of Mora and tosses it on the stage. The bag of Mora lands beside your feet, lightly tapping your foot. You look down at the bag of Mora with wide eyes. You squat down, grab the bag and examine it with wide eyes of disbelief. You look up, searching around for the owner of the bag of Mora.
Pantalone waves his glowstick around, desperately trying to get your attention. You and Pantalone make eye contact; the minute your eyes meet, Pantalone feels his heart race against his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks to the point where his face feels hot under your gaze. You slowly stand and walk towards the section where he’s standing. Seeing you approach their section, the twenty-four other men start to crowd around Pantalone, resulting in him getting pinned against the steel stage barrier.
“Hey, stop pushing, you buffoon!” Dottore hisses, glaring at the men who are desperately trying to get your attention the closer you get to their section.
You walk down the step on the side of the stage with the help of security. You thank the guard and approach the men who are almost breaking through the stage barriers. You stop in front of them and hold the bag of Mora up for them to see.
“Who does this belong to?” You ask into the microphone.
You would ask them without the microphone, but with the screams and number of people hollering your name, reaching out to you to grab your attention (or to even touch you), it was hard to ask them personally.
“It belongs to me, but you can keep it,” Pantalone says, sending a wink in your direction with a charming smile on his face.
While the smile on Pantalone’s face looks like a charming smile, Pantalone is trying his best not to show the pain on his face. After all, he’s being pinned against a steel stage barrier by most of the VIP section. Maybe throwing a bag of Mora on stage to grab your attention wasn’t the best idea he had in mind.
“Keep it? I can’t simply keep someone’s bag of Mora!” You look at Pantalone with wide eyes.
“Hey, if Pantalone says you can keep it, keep it. He already has too many Mora,” Capitano says nonchalantly, smiling underneath his helmet.
You smile at them sheepishly and shake your head. “No, no, no, it’s fine, really!” You said.
You gesture for Pantalone to hold his hand out. Pantalone complies and holds his right hand out in front of him. You place the bag of Mora on his hand, grabbing his fingers and wrapping them around the bag of Mora.
“There!” You said, smiling up at Pantalone, who looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks bright red.
You slowly release Pantalone’s hands and smile at him. Pantalone gulps and nods shyly, pocketing his bag of Mora.
“Lucky bastard,” Pantalone hears Pierro mutters jokingly.
“[Y/N]! [Y/N]! I love you so much!! Please marry me!” Childe screams at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence.
You hear someone angrily protest, pushing the ginger man away and shoving the sign in front of you. “Don’t listen to him, my love! I’m your biggest fan, and I am more worthy of your love than this idiot!” Itto screams.
“Please notice me, [Y/N]! I collect every single one of your albums!” Aether screams from behind Itto, trying to shove his way toward you.
“Ignore these idiots; I’m your biggest fan and your most loyal fan! These buffoons are nowhere near my level!” Scaramouche hollers, hovering above you and the men below him.
You crane your head up to look at Scaramouche, who smiles down at you and caresses your face in his hands. Out of spite, Xiao smacks Scaramouche’s hands away from your face with a scowl on his face. You chuckle at them and shake your head.
“I’m assuming you,” you gestured to the twenty-five men in front of you, “are the ones I’ll be meeting backstage after the concert?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at them.
The twenty-five men nod their heads, cheeks flustered. They can’t believe it! You’re talking to them! You know that they exist in your world! They’re breathing the same air as you are and are face-to-face with each other! As much as they wanted to keep their cool, seeing you, their biggest idol and celebrity crush, in person is a whole new experience.
You smile at them. “Well, I look forward to meeting all of you after the concert! The security guards will be guiding you all backstage for the meet and greet,” you said.
In a trance, the men nod their heads, watching you walk back up the stage. Fans are tossing stuffed animals and flowers on stage, trying to get your attention after seeing what Pantalone has done. You chuckle and shake your head, looking over in the men’s direction.
“Oh my gosh, they just looked at us,” Heizou gasps, shaking the person beside him while refusing to take his eyes off you.
“We’re the luckiest fans out of everyone in the stadium; it’s official,” Venti says, crossing his arms over his chest with a big smile on his face.
When the concert is coming to an end, you stand in the middle of the stage and sigh sadly. After this concert, you’re not sure when the next show will be. This performance was the final concert of the tour all over Teyvat, and you did not want the moment to end. You have been touring all over Teyvat to perform in seven different regions. The final concert is held at a huge stadium that is built specifically for your concert alone. That stadium is located on an island outside of Mondstadt and Liyue but a few minutes out of Inazuma.
Because the concert is the final show of the current tour, many people from all over Teyvat traveled to this island just to see you perform. Even if it’s for one night, people are willing to travel far to see you perform your last concert until your next tour, which hasn’t been in the talks yet. The only thing your fans know, so far, is that you’re going to be releasing a new album soon and that you’re going to be making appearances on many shows.
“I don’t want this concert to end,” you sigh sadly into the microphone, sitting in the center of the stage. “I don’t want the fun to end, nor do I want to see you all leave,” you frown.
Loud cries and whines echo throughout the stadium, the fans expressing the same emotions as you. They didn’t want the concert to end and didn’t want to see you go down in the stage trapdoor, leaving them for who knows how long.
“I’ll be back soon, I promise,” You reassure the audience with a small smile, “I’m releasing a new album soon. Will you all listen to the new songs when they’re released?”
The audience screams, making you laugh and slowly stand up. You stretch your arms and sigh, walking over to the wooden stool, picking up a towel, and wiping your sweat. You have been performing for almost two hours, and now it’s time for you to wrap up the concert. You have a fan meet to do after, and you want to freshen up a little bit before meeting your VIP fans.
You said your goodbye while standing on the stage trapdoor, waving to the fans as the platform below you descended. You’re ushered to the dressing room to freshen up for the meet and greet with the twenty-five VIP fans you have spoken to before the concert ends. Emilia fixes your makeup while Yue restyles your hair, making sure the flyaway hairs and your baby hairs are flat on your head and not all over the place.
“You’re phenomenal, as always,” Emilia says, lightly squeezing your shoulders.
You smile at Emilia. “Thank you, Emilia. What do your niece and her parents think of the concert?” You ask, closing your eyes and letting Emilia lightly brush your under-eye with powder.
“They enjoyed your concert as usual,” Emilia grins.
You smile and press your lips into a thin line, trying your best to remain still while Emilia fixes your makeup to make you look put together. The concert is successful, as always. You’re glad that nothing went haywire on the last show.
“Are you excited to meet your fans? I saw you interacting with them before the concert ended,” Yue murmurs, putting more tinsel in your hair and brushing your hair.
You chuckle and nod your head, cracking your eyes open to look at Yue and Emilia. “I’m pretty excited to meet them! It’s nice chatting with them towards the end of the concert, but with everything going on, it was hard to hear what they’re saying,” you reply.
“Too many people trying to interact with you at once, or was it something else?” Yue asks.
You hum and lean back in the chair, reaching for the hand fan to fan yourself. You purse your lips and think for a moment.
“Yes, that would be one of the reasons. They were all piling up against this black-haired man with glasses, practically squishing him against the stage barrier,” you chuckle. “I feel bad for that happening, and I’m hoping to interact with all of them without any of them getting hurt or squished by the other,” you add.
“I don’t know, [Y/N]. Your fanboys…. They have familiar faces,” Emilia chuckles, applying lip balm on your lips. “A few of them are Fatui Harbingers, and others are diplomats or archons! Overall, these men are important figures of some sort,” Emilia says, gazing at you with wide eyes.
“Important figures as [Y/N]’s biggest fanboys!? Wow! You’re truly amazing, [Y/N]!” Yue squeals, jumping behind you with glee. “Would you, perhaps, date any of them?” Yue teases, wiggling her eyebrows at you cheekily.
You feel your face heat up at Yue’s question. You? Dating a fan? Does she not realize how scandalous that is? You turn to Yue and lightly bat at her arm.
“Yue! Me dating a fan is scandalous! Do you know how upset people will be if I start dating a fan of mine?” You ask, looking at the Liyuen woman with wide eyes.
Yue pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, come on, [Y/N]! You can’t be single forever! Plus, there are not many famous male idols in Teyvat. You usually see women that are given this sort of attention compared to the men,” Yue says.
You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, Yue. I don’t think about dating much because of how busy I am with my career as an idol. Not only that, but I don’t want my significant other to deal with hate and tabloids,” you sigh, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.
Emilia pats your head. “That’s fair, but you can’t be single forever. Especially when you have attractive fanboys,” Emilia jokes, poking you in the ribs lightly.
“How can you see their faces clearly when colorful lights were strobing in the stadium?” You ask.
“We ran into your fanboys before the concert began. You weren’t at the stadium yet. You were on your way here, and these men were searching around for a restroom, and maybe they were hoping to run into you, but they ran into us instead,” Yue explains, snickering to herself.
You chuckle and shake your head. The more you think about the fanboys you interact with during the concert, the more you become intrigued with them. Not going to lie; you’re kind of nervous about meeting them backstage. While they admire you and the things you do, you hope that the interaction wouldn’t make them like you any less.
To put it into perspective, you’re not much of a social person, and having to interact with almost thirty people after a huge performance is a bit nerve-wracking. Ironic, right? You performed in front of thousands of people, and yet you find interacting with twenty-ish people personally is more intimidating than performing in front of thousands of people. Maybe it’s because of your past interaction with a celebrity, but you don’t want your fanboys to be disappointed to see that you’re not the perfect idol they see on billboards, posters, TV shows, album covers, and magazines.
“And we’re done!” You hear Emilia say.
You blink and realize that Emilia and Yue are finished helping you freshen up. You get up from your seat and stretch your arms in the air, groaning. After this meet and greet, you’re going straight to the showers, and you’re going to take a nap right after.
“So, do I just wait here while the security guards assist the VIP fans to the meet and greet room?” You ask, grabbing the water bottle from the vanity.
Yue shrugs her shoulders. “You’ve been in the dressing room for a while. I’m pretty sure your fanboys are already in the meet-and-greet room,” Yue says, packing up the tools and cleaning the station around her.
“Aw man, I hope I didn’t keep them waiting for too long,” you mutter.
You quickly bid the two women goodbyes before walking out of the dressing room. When you step out of the dressing room, you see Alice and a security guard waiting for you outside of the dressing room. You give the two a brief smile before letting them know that you’re ready to meet the VIP fans.
While you, Alice, and the security guards were on your way to the room where the meet and greet was being held, the room was filled with chatter. Very loud conversations from your twenty-five fanboys.
“Take that off. You look ridiculous!” Diluc sighs, shaking his head at Kaeya.
Kaeya snorts. “Oh, please, brother. You’re wearing the same shirt as I am. Although, white doesn’t suit you at all,” Kaeya says, looking down at the shirt Diluc is wearing.
“Who designed all of [Y/N] concert merchandise? I want to speak to them and give them some advice on how to properly design merchandise without making it look tacky,” Ayato says, holding your concert t-shirt up with a neutral expression.
Thoma clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest, covering the concert t-shirt he’s wearing with his arms. “I agree with you, my Lord. Although, I believe the person should be fired instead, and a new merchandise designer should be hired,” Thoma says, scratching the apples of his cheeks awkwardly.
Kaveh sighs dramatically. “As much as I love [Y/N] and their flawlessness, I believe that their only flaw is hiring the designer,” Kaveh laments, tossing the t-shirt back on the pile of shirts on the table.
“Yeah, of course, you do. You say that while having another t-shirt stuffed in your back pocket,” Al Haitham snorts.
Al Haitham reaches behind Kaveh, yanks the shirt from Kaveh’s pants pocket, and waves it in front of the blond man with an eyebrow raised, the corner of his lips quirking up with amusement. Kaveh gapes at Al Haitham and begins to stutter out excuses.
Tighnari pats Kaveh’s back with a smile. “It’s okay if you like the shirt, Kaveh. People have different tastes in clothing. You don’t have to follow the crowd in hating the design of the merchandise,” Tighnari says.
“Exactly. I don’t understand why people would follow along with what others think. If you like something, then you like it. Don’t pretend to dislike something only because a group of people doesn’t like what you do,” Cyno says, walking up to Kaveh, Tighnari, and Al Haitham while wearing your concert merchandise.
Baizhu lets out a chuckle and props his hands on his hips. “I see that you’re trying to show others that you’re [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” said Baizhu, looking at Cyno from head to toe.
“I disagree. I’m [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” Gorou says, walking over to the group with various concert merchandise in his hands.
Kazuha pokes Gorou’s back. “I think you should get a bag for [Y/N]’s concert merchandise. We wouldn’t want you to drop them on your way out,” said Kazuha.
“How much longer do we have to wait?” Xiao mutters, leaning on the edge of the merchandise table to stretch his aching legs out.
Dainsleif hums. “They can take as long as they like. They did perform for almost two hours and have to tolerate everyone crowding the barrier to talk to them,” Dainsleif says nonchalantly.
“And by crowding the barrier, you mean crushing me against the steel stage barrier because [Y/N] looked in my direction and talked to me,” Pantalone huffs, rubbing his lower abdomen where the steel barrier dug into while the twenty-four other men crowded around him just to get your attention.
Albedo shrugs his shoulders. “You sort of did that to yourself, Pantalone,” Albedo says.
Dottore snickers behind his hands before nudging Pantalone with his elbow. “He’s not wrong there, Pantalone. You tried to find a way to get [Y/N]’s attention, and you were successful! However, every action has consequences,” Dottore smirks.
“I don’t want to alarm anyone, but it seems like [Y/N] is about to make an appearance very soon,” Zhongli speaks up.
Everyone turns to look at Zhongli quizzically. Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before gesturing towards the entrance of the room. Everyone in the room falls silent; they can hear three pairs of footsteps approaching the room where the meet and greet is being held. Not only can they hear footsteps getting closer to the room, but the voices are getting louder the closer the footsteps get.
“They’re in this room, right?” The group of men hears you ask.
“Yes, the meet and greet are being held in this room!” They hear a woman say eagerly.
The door is opened by the security guard. The security guard makes eye contact with each man and nods his head before turning around to gesture for you to enter the room. The men in the room panic and begin to fix their clothes, making sure they look presentable. You walk into the room and smile at the men in front of you.
“Hello! It’s great to see you all again after the concert! Our interaction was cut short due to the concert and the concert coming to an end. I hope I’ll be able to talk with each of you without any interruptions,” you joyfully said, clasping your hands together in front of you.
Pierro smiles at you and bows at you, his right hand placed over his chest. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Your performance is flawless and enchanting, as always. I’m honored to be able to watch you perform live,” Pierro says, straightening his posture.
You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ears. Your little gesture made the others subtly raise their eyebrows, jealousy beginning to simmer inside of them.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the concert! It makes me incredibly happy to know that people enjoy the performance!” You said, smiling at Pierro.
“You needn’t worry about what people think of your performance. You’re a world-class performer, a very respected idol, and a huge inspiration and role model for all,” Capitano says gruffly.
You cover both of your flushed cheeks with your hands. “Oh, stop! You’re making me blush!” You said, covering your face.
Archons, can you get any cuter? You’re so cute! The way you cover your cheeks with your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks, you try to keep your professional facade while treating them like an acquaintance. However, they wish it was more than a fan and idol interaction); you speak to them casually instead of the conversation being tense and awkward.
“If you don’t mind me asking, have you eaten anything yet?” Zhongli asks.
You shake your head. “Not yet! But I will be getting something to eat after the meet and greet! Although I’m not sure where I’ll be going,” you trailed off, pinching the fat of your chin with your lips puckered.
“You don’t have to worry about that, [Y/N]. Mister Zhongli over here is generous enough to send a food stall to your concert for you personally. As the creator and founder of the biggest [Y/N] Fanclub of all of Teyvat, Zhongli is the one that sends the gifts, food stalls, and does many things for you and the fans,” Childe says, patting the funeral consultant’s shoulders with a big smile on his face.
Aether looks at Zhongli with wide eyes and points at Zhongli with an accusing finger. “You’re Interstellar Idol!? The one that is at every single fan event that is hosted for [Y/N]!?” Aether exclaims in disbelief.
“He’s also the one that goes all out when it comes to [Y/N],” Heizou whispers, staring at the flustered ex-Archon with wide eyes.
Itto raises his hand in the air. “Hold up! I thought he was broke! Like, borrowing other people’s Mora and never paying them back kind of broke,” Itto says, fiddling with his thumbs while looking at Zhongli skeptically.
Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “He’s not broke, Itto. Zhongli just forgets to bring his wallet,” Al Haitham corrects Itto, crossing his arms over his chest.
“As if that’s any better,” Kaveh mutters under his breath.
You stare at Zhongli with your mouth agape before making your way to the flustered archon. You stand in front of Zhongli, pointing at him. “You’re running my biggest Fanclub, did you know that?” You whisper.
Zhongli clears his throat and nods his head shyly, cheeks pink, the tips of his ears just as pink as the apples of his cheeks. You’re very familiar with the Fanclub called Interstellar Idol; they’re your biggest fanbase of all Teyvat. How can you not know them? They’re at every milestone of yours and have been at your side since the beginning of your career as an idol. If it weren’t for the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol, you wouldn’t be as known as you are now.
“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” You whisper shyly.
Zhongli looks at you with wide eyes before slowly nodding his head. A big smile appears on your face, and you hug Zhongli, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Thank you for being there with me every step of my career. I appreciate the support, and I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you and the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol,” you murmur, looking up at Zhongli.
“Hey! I want my hug, tooooo!” Venti whines, stomping his foot on the ground playfully.
You pull away from the hug and laugh. “Alright, I’ll give each of you a hug or a handshake. It’s your choice! Then if any of you want to take a picture, or want anything signed, let me know after!” You said.
“Just to let you know, Zhongli may be the creator and founder of your biggest Fanclub; all of us,” Thoma gestures to the other men in the room, including himself, “are also well-known [Y/N] fanboys,” Thoma says proudly.
You prop your hands on your hips. “Is that so?” You ask, looking at them curiously. “Care to tell me what each of you does as fans of mine? I’m quite curious,” You said, tilting your head to the side.
Diluc clears his throat loudly. “Let’s discuss this later,” Diluc interjects, looking away with red blossoming on his cheeks.
Kaeya leans toward you while pointing his thumb at Diluc. “Diluc collects your albums and posters. However, he doesn’t have as many as I do,” Kaeya snickers behind his hands.
Diluc narrows his eyes at Kaeya and grabs him by the shirt collar, pulling him back. Kaeya looks over at Diluc with a smug smile on his face. Diluc’s face was almost as red as his hair after Kaeya exposed Diluc’s secret hobby to you, the biggest idol of Teyvat and their celebrity crush.
“You didn’t hear this from me, but Cyno writes fanfictions about you. His stories are very popular throughout Teyvat,” Tighnari whispers to you.
Cyno looks over at Tighnari, his eyes wide. “What did you say?” Cyno demands, stomping over to you and Tighnari.
“Oh, Cyno. There’s no shame in writing fanfictions! I used to write them myself as well,” you reassure General Mahamatra with a smile on your face.
Ayato looks at you with interest. “And who did you write about?” Ayato asks, raising an eyebrow at you in a teasing manner.
You gaped at Ayato and cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away from the Kamisato heir. There’s no way you’re going to expose yourself even more when you have already revealed your “secret” to the men in front of you.
“As you said earlier, there’s no shame in writing fanfictions!” Baizhu sing-song, smiling at you innocently.
You pucker your lips and shake your head. “We’re not close enough for me to expose my secrets even more,” you joke.
Dottore slides his arm over your shoulders. “I’m sure by the end of the meet and greet; we’ll be closer than ever for you to tell us who you wrote fanfictions of,” Dottore chuckles, smiling down at you.
You squint your eyes at Dottore and look at the other men. “We’ll see about that,” you stroke your chin.
You walk over to Xiao, who’s quietly observing you with curiosity. Despite being a massive idol in Teyvat, you’re still humble, and you interact with your fans like ordinary people instead of putting up a wall between you and your fans. You’re grateful for all of the support you have been receiving since day one of your career as an idol, and you continue to be thankful for your fans, your manager, and everyone around you that made your career happen.
“What’s on your mind?” You ask, pulling Xiao from his thoughts.
Xiao blinks at you and clears his throat, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink. “It’s nothing,” Xiao says.
You look at him curiously. “If it’s nothing, then how come you weren’t answering me when I called your name a couple of times?” You tease.
Xiao clears his throat, his face turning bright red. “You know my name?” Xiao asks, his eyes almost as wide as dinner plates.
“We told them your name,” said Gorou, giving Xiao a small smile.
Scaramouche sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t mind him. This is his first time going to your concert, and I think his mind is still trapped at the concert,” Scaramouche comments, a small smirk appearing on his face.
Kazuha shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, you can’t blame him for that. [Y/N]’s concerts are always mesmerizing and memorable,” Kazuha says, patting Xiao’s back.
Xiao hesitates for a moment, his face turning a darker shade of red. How is he going to talk to you when he can’t get the words out of his mouth? Xiao feels like he’s running out of time with you, and he wants to cherish every moment with you before having to deal with reality again. The reality of having to deal with his karmic debt, the reality of having to watch over Liyue, the reality of you being so far from him performing all over the world while he’s stuck in Liyue. Your music and your presence ease his mind and worries. Zhongli looks over at Xiao, a faint smile appearing on his face. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.
“He’s a big fan of yours,” Zhongli says, placing his hand on Xiao’s shoulders.
Xiao’s face continues to grow hot; he nods and scratches the back of his neck shyly. You smile and press both of your hands over your heart.
“It makes me really happy to hear that you’re a fan of mine, Xiao! With every love and support I receive from my fans, I really do appreciate it. I appreciate each of you,” You said.
Alice walks up to you and stands beside you, locking gazes with Albedo. She smiles at him and nods to him. “Hello, Albedo! How are you doing, sweetheart? What do you think of [Y/N]’s concert?” Alice asks.
A small smile appears on Albedo’s face. “Hello, Alice. I’m doing well! I really enjoyed [Y/N]’s performance. Seeing them perform in person makes me realize why they earned the title ‘world-class performer,’” Albedo says.
Dainsleif nudges Albedo. “You know [Y/N]’s agent?” He mutters to the light blond-haired male.
Albedo nods his head. “You can say that she is a family member of mine. However, I see Klee, Alice’s daughter, as a little sister of mine. Alice insisted that I call her mother,” Albedo briefly explains.
Pantalone lets out a thoughtful hum. “Then that means you know [Y/N] before their career?” Pantalone asks.
“We’ve met a few times, but we barely spoke to each other because of how busy the chief alchemist is,” you answer. “It’s nice to see you again, Albedo. Thank you for coming to my concert. Your support means a lot to me,” you said.
Albedo gives you a shy smile and looks away, his face almost as red as Xiao’s face. You laugh to yourself before turning to the next person beside Albedo. Itto, who is wearing all of your concert merchandise with the sign in his hands and a bandana with your name on it wrapped around his forehead. When you make eye contact with Itto, Itto looks like he’s about to pass out right on the spot.
“I’m assuming you’re my biggest fan?” You ask.
Itto nods his head, gulping. “I love your music so much. I have posters of you all over my wall, I collect every album you have released, along with magazines you’re on the cover of, and I try to go as many fan meets as I can along with your concert,” Itto rambles.
Childe snorts and leans toward Zhongli. “Simp,” Childe mutters.
Zhongli rolls his eyes. “As if none of us are that as well,” Zhongli mutters to the ginger-haired Harbinger, nudging Childe.
“So, are you implying that Itto is a bigger [Y/N] fan than you?” Dainsleif asks, raising an eyebrow at Childe.
“Of course not! [Y/N] knows that I’m their biggest fan because I show up to every meet and greet they host throughout Teyvat! I also go to every single one of their concerts if I get the chance to go!” Childe huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
Diluc rolls his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that,” Diluc snorts.
“If you’re confused, Diluc is implying that he’s a bigger fan of [Y/N] than you are,” Kaeya says, pointing his thumb over at Diluc.
Venti laughs and pops up between Kaeya and Diluc. “You may be a big fan of [Y/N], but do any of you make covers of their music? I don’t think so!” Venti huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Covering a song? What does that mean?” Ayato asks Thoma.
“Venti sings [Y/N]’s songs and posts them for people to see. I believe that Venti has a lot of views on each cover he has posted,” Thoma explains.
Venti props his hands on his hips with a proud smile on his face. Itto hands you a pen with shaky hands, asking you to sign the album he has brought with him. Itto would have you sign every album he has owned, but it would be too many, and Itto doesn’t think he can carry it all with him even if he makes Gorou assist him. You grab the pen from Itto’s grasp and begin signing the album. Your handwriting is elegant and legible; seeing you sign the album in front of his own eyes is a memory he will cherish forever. Speaking of cherishing memories, Itto quickly pulls his Kamera out from his bag and takes a quick picture of you signing the album.
“Itto! You just can’t take pictures of [Y/N] while they’re signing your album!” Gorou hisses, smacking Itto’s biceps.
“It’s okay! I don’t mind getting my pictures taken. After all, I am used to it,” you said, smiling at Gorou.
Gorou feels his face turn hot the minute you smile at him. Gorou covers the lower part of his face with his hand and looks away, his tail giving him away. You finish up signing Itto’s album and begin signing Itto’s sign that he brought to the concert. When he receives your signed album and his sign with your autograph on it, Itto squeals loudly and tackles you into a hug while blabbering about how much he loves you and how you make him so happy.
“Hey! Let’s not tackle [Y/N] into a bone-crushing hug now, Itto!” Baizhu says, laughing nervously as he tries to get Itto off of you.
Aether snorts. “Listen, Itto may have the abs, but he doesn’t have the biceps to crush [Y/N] and their bones,” Aether says, poking at Itto’s arms.
“I call dibs standing next to [Y/N] when we take group pictures!” Heizou announces, raising his hand in the air with a triumphant smile.
Kaveh lets out a loud scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t call dibs! It’s not fair for the rest of us!” Kaveh protests, glaring at Heizou.
“Yeah, Heizou. If you were to call dibs on standing beside [Y/N] in the pictures, it wouldn’t be fair for the rest of us,” Al Haitham says.
You chuckle and walk over to the center of the meet-and-greet room after Itto has released you from his hug. You watch the men debate on who should stand next to you (spoiler: all of them said themselves). In the end, you end up taking a bunch of group pictures because each man wanted to stand beside you in the picture, which you didn’t mind at all! They’re all hilarious and sweet about it, plus you didn’t really have anything else planned after the meet and greet other than get something to eat.
“I’m going to cherish this picture forever,” Tighnari says, staring at the film in his hands with a faint smile.
You feel your stomach growl; now that you think about it, Zhongli did say something about renting a food stall for you after the concert. Perhaps you can invite them to keep you company while you eat. Maybe they can get something to eat, too, since you’re unsure if they had anything to eat prior to the concert.
Before you can ask the men if they want to join you, you walk over to Alice and the security guard. You need Alice’s thoughts (and permission) first before inviting the men. Alice gives you a thumbs up, making you sigh in relief. You walk over to the men, who are still bickering over who should’ve been the first one to stand next to you in the group picture.
You tap on Cyno’s shoulders, grabbing the white-haired man’s attention.
“Do you guys want to join me at the food stall? I’m about to get something to eat, and I would like all of you to join me. If you’re hungry, you can get something to eat at the food stall, and if not, you can just hang out and chat with each other,” you said.
“I would love to!” Cyno says, smiling at you.
“We would love to keep you company,” Pierro says, nodding.
“I’m starting to feel famished, so why not?” said Scaramouche.
Kazuha holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we go and get something to eat at the food stall?” Kazuha asks.
You link your arms with his and nod. “We shall.”
“Hey! I want to lock arms with them too!” You hear Childe whine.
You hear Capitano scoff. “Quit your whining, and let’s get something to eat,” Capitano says, looking at Childe.
You all walk to the back entrance of the stadium venue. Outside is a long line of food stalls rented by Zhongli for you to eat after the performance. There was so much food to choose from, and you’re not sure where to start!
“Zhongli, you’re a godsend,” you said, walking to the nearest food stall with excitement.
“It’s funny because he’s actually the Geo arch— Oof!” Childe groans when Zhongli elbows him in the gut with a straight face.
“I believe we should get food now,” Zhongli states nonchalantly, shooting a look over in Childe’s direction.
Childe pouts and nods his head before trailing after Zhongli while the others go to grab food from the stalls to eat. Usually, this isn’t how your meet and greets end, but a little change is nice sometimes. Who knew your career would take off so fast and land you in this situation, surrounded by your fanboys while eating food in each other’s company?
Note: I have another AU coming out next week! I have no idea why I've been getting a lot of AU ideas, but I think the upcoming AU should be the last one for now. Other than AUs, I do have some ideas for mini-fics as well and I'm really hoping I can type them out and get them posted. I've been busy with school and my winter schedule has been keeping me out of my house for hours until early evening 😵💫 This next part is copied and pasted; For those who want to be on my new taglist, here is the link to the taglist [Genshinluvr Updated Taglist Form]! Please make sure that you allow people to mention you/tag you in posts, or else I won't be able to tag you in any future fanfics! And as usual, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @alhaitham-scribe, @xyji, @kazuhasmuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @living-my-best-life5, @chalksdreams, @rinswriting, @thelost-in-time, @mxn14, @ventisweetheart, @unwantedsleep, @kattythesimp, @hispasian-otaku, @Orah-s, @juuuuuj101010, @nxns3nse, @sickly-falling, @alteeeeyang, @wind1y, @wh0-ta0, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @HistoryNerd™️, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado (If your name has been crossed out, it means that your account did not show up when I try to tag your account. Please make sure to allow people to mention you and tag you in posts and make sure the spelling, symbols, and numbers are correct)
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#Genshin impact x reader#Genshin impact imagine#Genshin impact fanfiction#Arataki Itto x reader#Gorou x reader#Thoma x reader#Kaedehara Kazuha x reader#Xiao x reader#Albedo x reader#Zhongli x reader#Childe x reader#Venti x reader#Diluc x reader#Kaeya x reader#Kamisato Ayato x reader#Dainsleif x reader#Scaramouche x reader#Baizhu x reader#Aether x reader#Heizou x reader#Al Haitham x reader#Tighnari x reader#Cyno x reader#Kaveh x reader#Pantalone x reader#Pierro x reader#Dottore x reader#Capitano x reader#genshinluvr
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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Learn To Love Yourself & Heal From Toxic People
Allow yourself to feel all your emotions and thoughts, authentically and without self-criticism or judgment: Acknowledge that you're grieving. Accept that you need to mourn your loss. Even if it is better to move on in life without these people, it is healthy and completely valid to grieve the relationships you had with these people – regardless of whether they were one-sided, deluded, or otherwise toxic. Allow yourself to cry, be angry, lie in bed, etc. Hit a pillow, sleep in all day on a weekend, or wear a set of pajamas for a WFH day. Give yourself permission to engage in self-soothing behaviors without any type of self-harm or self-sabotage.
Rest, relax, and pamper yourself in your leisure time: Spend time taking it easy – reading, watching TV, doing a face mask or another indulgent skin treatment, using a body massager, cooking dinner in a silk robe and slippers, lighting a candle, cozying up in a blanket, etc. Allow yourself to feel at peace. Create a sanctuary in your space.
Take time for introspection and self-discovery: Being in any type of relationship with toxic people is draining and can cause you to feel as though you've lost a part of yourself by trying to make the relationship succeed. Now, it's time to reclaim yourself after you've courageously cut out these toxic people from your life. Consider and honor your deepest desires, values, interests, hobbies, lifestyle, goals, aesthetic, food, sexual, entertainment preferences, etc. Go on a self-discovery journey to figure out who you really are, what you believe, and who you will work to become as you enter this new, exciting chapter of your life.
Journal, read, eat healthily, work out, drink plenty of water, and sleep: Go back to the basic healthy habits. Try to journal for at least 5-10 minutes a day (using a 5-minute journal, morning pages [writing 3 pages of stream-of-conscious thoughts first thing in the morning], journal or shadow work prompts), make 2-3 whole food, plant-based meals with carbs, veggies, fruits, proteins, and healthy fats, find some ways to incorporate movement into your day – 30-minute walk or yoga session is enough if that's all you can manage consistently, have your body weight in ounces of water daily, and sleep for around 7-8 hours a night. Do some inner child healing by taking care of your core needs.
Indulge in all of your favorites: There's a lot of fun you can have when you have total freedom regarding your daily activities and choices. Give yourself permission to enjoy this solitude. Wear your favorite outfits every day (occasion-appropriate options, of course), including pajamas, loungewear, lingerie, and accessories. Make your favorite meals and snacks throughout the week (incorporating some healthy options in there to feel your best – I love a good oatmeal bowl, frozen grapes, baked Japanese sweet potato, or a hummus and vegetable plate). Watch your favorite TV shows or movies. Indulge in a glass of wine you love or reread a favorite book. Create a masterful playlist. Plan a day of your favorite activities (a long walk, getting a coffee, indulging in a spa day, going to a farmer's market, going to a yoga class, etc.) Treat yourself like your own best friend.
Get comfortable doing things alone: Honestly, no one cares or is paying attention to if you're doing activities alone or with someone else. If someone shows too much interest in your solitude, they're probably projecting their own insecurities regarding their perceived social ridicule. Take yourself shopping, to the nail salon, out for a meal, to the movies, etc. alone. Personally, I love doing most of these things alone anyways. Running errands alone gives you some space to clear your mind and think freely.
Define what an ideal social life and/or relationship looks like for you: Once you've become comfortable with yourself and living life on your own terms, it's time to embrace your desire for human connection and socialization. Consider the types of people you want in your life – their values, personalities, interests, goals, favorite activities, relational boundaries, etc., and where/when/how often you want to interact with them.
Create an action plan: Reconnect with the people in your life who continue to show up for you and have been a light through these toxic relationships and their lasting effects over the months or years. Decide on the places, groups, and ways you'll reach out/try to meet these people. Figure out how to expand your network, and make new connections. Don't be afraid to put yourself out there. You won't vibe with everyone you meet, but it is worthwhile to engage in small talk with several strangers if even one of these new faces, later on, becomes a good friend or acquaintance. A varied social circle is a great way to enrich your life.
Take small steps, then strides: Be gentle on yourself throughout this entire process. It is perfectly okay to take one day at a time during the grieving process. Everyone's healing journey will look different and evolve at a different pace. Don't let these toxic people remain in your heart, mind, and spirit. Remember that you deserve love, kindness, happiness, success, peace, and patience.
#self love#healing journey#self healing#personal growth#toxic parents#toxic relationship#toxic people#toxic ex#inner child#inner voice#self improvement#self care#femme fatale#dark feminine energy#dark femininity#glow up#it girl#female power#high value mindset#high value woman#female excellence#dream girl#the feminine urge#that girl#girl advice#girl blogging#life advice#life lessons#life path#level up journey
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Azul, Idia and Malleus 1
Summary: Azul and Idia are dragged for singing practice with Malleus. You too were dragged in, but not to sing. Malleus wanted you to be his audience and critic.
(I think it would be funny for the Janitor to just be in a chair, watching it all. I know the event is over, but it still lives in my head for whatever reason. Also this is over 1000 words, so have fun.)
While you're not going to the social that'll be happening in the Nobel Bell College, you are still a dear friend of Malleus. And because you have such privileges, you were allowed to be the judging audience for Malleus's singing practices.
"His initiative is mind-boggling… I didn't think Malleus would be so motivated." Azul said, clearly out of his element but refusing to show as such.
You leaned your head against your fist.
"You've never attended a fae party have you?" You picked at the lint on your uniform and flicked it towards the practicing pair. "This much enthusiasm is pretty common to see. And expected, actually."
Azul's smile twitched as he turned towards you, "Ah well, excuse my inexperience with not attending any fae parties. Running a business doesn't exactly allow me much free time. Though, I suppose quality standards would be different across species, wouldn't they? I just never expected them to be this high."
"That's what happens when you live for hundreds of years," you sighed, "the medium standard rises."
Malleus clapped his hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Now now, Ashengrotto," Malleus chided Azul, "Keep from looking at the Child of Man and start again. You must be sure to practice so that you can perform perfectly for them."
It's nice that you at least get a free show before they all go. Now if only you had snacks. It's been a while since you last ate.
Lilia, ever the perceptive one, floated over dropped an unopened bag of snacks right on your head. "Seeing a performance on an empty stomach is no way to enjoy it."
You grabbed it and nodded to him. "Nice, I like this brand."
Idia, having just the tiniest bit of respite, chewed on his nail and grumbled out, "I never expected our precision security system to get literally brute-forced. I gotta upgrade that ASAP, like tonight."
You chuckled, now in a better mood with a tasty snack on your tongue, "Idia, you're dealing with an enemy that scales to your level, it's never going to work."
Lilia laughed with you, "Exactly. You shouldn't underestimate our sheer tenacity. Especially when we're under strict orders."
Malleus had a hand to his mouth, smiling right down at Idia, clearly amused that Idia thought he could avoid all of this. "As such, I and this entire dorm are dedicating our time to craft this song into perfection. Your participation is crucial for that, I'm afraid."
Poor Idia. You're enjoying this too much.
"You can't escape," you muffled through your snacks.
Idia shrunk further into himself, but resigned to his practicing fate alongside Azul.
They started from the top and Malleus began singing that song you now know forwards and backwards. He kept diligent to his nightly visits over to your dorm, alongside of working in his hours of practice. It's difficult not to memorize it.
"He really is way too good at singing…" Azul and Idia murmured like you couldn't hear them at all.
"Yeah. Anything having to do with festivities and performances, they have it down pat. Did you know it's an insult to have a party last less than three days in fae etiquette?" You said while keeping a careful ear for any mistakes in Malleus's singing.
You really only said this just to get the thought out. You weren't expecting any sort of reply. And you certainly weren't expecting Azul and Idia to slowly turn towards you in dual horror.
Azul pushed up his glasses, "… while the social will last a while, the party itself will only last a day at the end… Could it be that Malleus does not know?"
And Idia is clutching at his hair. "Oh no, oh no, oh no…"
Wow they really just swallowed your words without question, huh?
"… obviously the rules are different if the host is a human, on their human owned land." You said with a lazy grin. The both of them are so easy to mess with.
Idia deflated into a defeated puddle on the floor while Azul perked right back up as though he too wasn't on the verge of a breakdown.
"Ah, well of course! If such rules applied the minute any guest is a faerie, we'd all be cursed in one manner or another."
Azul's ability to suddenly collect himself always amuses you. The sweat upon his brow hasn't even dried up yet. No wonder Malleus likes to put him on edge.
Malleus reached the end. He breathed in, out, then turned towards you. Azul and Idia flinched, being in his line of sight.
"Well? How was that?" Malleus asked.
And you gave your critic, "You might want to tone down the intensity in the first verse. Otherwise the climb to the finale won't hit as hard like that opera performance we saw on that video."
Of course you had to gather references regarding that song. You and your thirst for historical knowledge had you scaling down an interesting rabbit hole until you ended up stumbling upon an online archive filled with recorded performances. One of them simply wowed you and you had to show Malleus.
Malleus looked down, thoughtful. "I suppose you're right. Then, I'll make some adjustments as needed. I will reward you for the sound advice later, Child of Man. Let me try again. Lilia, if you will."
And another round he went, making sure to keep the full intensity of his voice under his control.
You couldn't help but sing along with him, under your breath of course. This was his practicing performance, not yours. You tapped to the rhythm, enjoying this early taste, living in the moment.
"Huh?" Azul and Idia both turned to you.
Your voice faded out before the end, as that verse is Malleus and Malleus's alone.
Idia, during that moment, scuttled up to your face like a bug. He grabbed your shirt by the collar. "You could sing?!" He hissed out.
"Uh, yeah?" It's a skill you had to practice with. The little pixies are all about songs and dances whenever they're helping you out with your work.
"So why don't you convince him. To let me go?!" Idia shook you back and forth. "Clearly this BBEG would love to sing with you over a loser like me! Do you want me to experience an IRL game over?!"
It… is amazing how weak Idia is. There is so little strength in those arms of his that you can't even be angry that he's wrinkling your shirt.
All you had to do was grab his face and push him down.
Idia did not stand a chance. He let go.
"Because I'm not invited, so I can't replace you. Besides, this is fun for me, watching you fumble like this." You grinned at this kneeling Idia. "When you've been around the pixies long enough, you just pick up their inner rhythm eventually. That, and singing keeps their energy high while I'm working."
"Well," Azul said, "That would explain why Malleus would want your critic over mine. How… frustrating."
Malleus didn't so much as spare a glance at Idia, only asked, "Shroud. What are you doing over there? It's time for you to practice the basics again."
"Ah!" Idia shot himself out of your grasp and zipped over to Lilia, "Coming!"
"If you'll excuse me, Janitor and Judge." Azul nodded to you, "I would want to make Malleus angry."
"Have fun." You waved them both off, settling in your plush chair once more until you were called for.
This is fun. You like this.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst-drabbles#twst-drabbles exclusive#drabble#octavinelle#azul#azul ashengrotto#ignihyde#idia#idia shroud#diasomnia#malleus#malleus draconia#reader insert#janitor au
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The best
"Hello, we are the feisty, sexy JAM REPUBLIC!!" The yelling always gets me, I sit there smiling while fixing my dress or simply trying to pull it down. When the girls agreed on wearing black, I showed up in pink, trying to represent all both of the national colors. I was then given a blanket as I thanked the staff and placed it on my lap. "We are here to work hard, though I can say I'm excited to see what everyone brings to the table. It's fun because we are the serious judges now." I stated while smiling at my team and holding Audrey's hand. We are then brought the cards, "I have a feeling about some of the other teams. What do you think about it, babes?" She turned around, showing off her little dimples before saying, "I feel like it's gonna be some teams we have seen before and a few mysterious ones, you know."
I agree before adjusting the blanket on my lap and watching our wonderful leader reveal the crew. Of course, when I saw BEBE, I wasn't shocked. Bada and I had been dating for a while, technically before the show started, well, at least in her opinion. She had been trying to get with me way before we got to street women fighter, but I genuinely believed those feelings weren't real. No matter how much she tried to tell me of send me gifts and pick me up from work. I know what you're thinking, "like fuck can you be any more dense." Well in my opinion I've had people work extremely hard for a fuck, I'm talking overtime with no breaks. Though she showed me the real her and we opened up to each other about some tough situations and at that moment I knew I was in love with her. Shit I had been the entire time, and I was simply trying to protect my heart.
Other crews weren't exactly a surprise either, though when 1MILLION added another dancer I was a but surprised, I've seen her dancing style for a while and she was good as fuck. "New scenery, me like it, girls." Latrice laughed at me while hitting my shoulder, with Kirsten giving us the motherly like pointed eye stare, meaning she meant business. Though in this situation I think it just meant to shut the fuck up politely. We saw some other times with Hook coming back and making an appearance, Aiki was a judge last time I saw her, and even though I didn't watch her season, I've heard great things about her. Like Bada, she had her students on her crew, and they showed out. "Still can't believe she is older than us or has a kid." We joked a lot about how the hottest people on set were taken.
Seeing LA CHICA was new as well. As soon as the cameras turned off, Latrice looked at me. "Is it bad I don't know the last crew?" I laughed at that. I mean shit not that funny but funny. "Stop laughing and tell me what they have done." I tried to stop my laughs but ended up laughing harder. "To be honest, the leader is just known for a lot of cultural appropriation in my book." The rest of the girls turned around with Kirsten stated we are in korea, so that's accurate.' We all start to get up and move towards set. We were really the only ones to film the outro since we arrived late. Seeing all the crews stand sit there on their podiums was kinda amazing, mainly knowing we would go up there as well. "Funny how we aren't the ones dancing."
After a while of sitting and the occasional introductions of different crews. We also had the smoke challenge performed by BEBE that awed the crowd. We were finally sitting down, and a few selective girls had already shown their dancing skills. Everything was going well so far. Until some girl thought she could pull a sexy choreography. It was actually sad to watch. "It simply wasn't for me, I felt like it could've had more of a wow factor or just better moves. Everything seemed sloppy, and it didn't fit your persona at all." Everyone looked at me after the harsh criticism, I guess no one expected me to be real. I turned to the side to notice Redlic has been winking at me. Weird. You see, me and her didn't exactly have a friendship. She and Bada were friends due to working together previously on dances as well as classes. In my opinion she was too friendly.
Though, not to Bada but to me. She was always winking and trying to hug me or asking me on dates. Now everyone pretty much knew that me and Bada were a thing except the public per my decision. Bada thought it would be a good idea to show the world our love, and while I was glad she wasn't ashamed of it, I knew the outcomes of it. Now I'm not scared by any means of what the world has to say, shit I came out while working as a dancer for beyonce during a tour to thousands of people. But, those opinions mattered to Bada, and as much as she liked to tell me this and that I knew the truth. Redlic saw this as an opportunity even going as far as stated. If you aren't public, then it doesn't really count. After a while, I realized I spaced out and was brought back to reality when I heard Redlic open her mouth. "I'm sure my sqeet angel Ellie could show you how it's done. She is known for being sexy without trying. I mean, come on, people just look at her."
I sat there shocked while plastering on a fake smile shyly shaking my head to disagree with her statement. But it was too late. She had already convinced half of the crowd, and before I knew it, everyone expected me to dance. I took a look over in my girlfriends direction and saw her face. She was smiling, but I knew that smile. She was anything hut happy. She also looked like she wanted to kick Redlics ass. I guess I was taking too long before I felt a hand reaching over to grab me and pull me to the stage. I looked over and saw Redlic smiling at me, telling the crowd to watch and learn. "So much for not dancing today." I whispered. I heard the music, Beyonce, of course it was. Realizing they had decided to play partition out of all the songs seemed like the world was against me today. Redlic had grabbed my hip, squeezing it while smiling at me. At that moment I knew I was fucked.
We danced together with me, somehow ending up between her legs while smirking st thr camera seductively. Might as well put on a show. If anyone would see us, they would think we were involved or fucking. After we finished, she pulled me closer. It almost looked like we were kissing, so I pushed her away softly and laughed nervously. Seeing the look on Bada's face, let me know I wasn't gonna walk tomorrow. I heard the crowd giving us applauds with Redlic, not trying to let go of my waist, like girl you trying to get me killed in this bitch. After a while, we were called on break. I was scared as shit obviously. I managed to avoid Bada for some time before I was waking down the hall going back to meet uo with the girls after getting a snack, and I saw Lusher. I tried to slowly back away, and she noticed to me. "Bada said she would like to talk to you, unnie, and she said she wouldn't bet on you running because you know. I don't really know what the second part means, but apparently, she said you do so, yea. She is in our crew room, and she seemed pissed so I wouldn't keep her waiting. Plus, you two live together, so don't prolong the war." At times like this, I wish she wasn't so clueless. She was literally leading me to my death.
I sighed and started walking to the direction of the crew room, fuck I can already feel the pain in my legs. As I was trying to give myself a little pep talk I realized I was standing in front of the door. Thinking about it, maybe this was a bad idea. Fuck I'm scared. "Get you ass in here, and don't make me repeat myself, little girl." Yearing her voice like that kinda turned me on until I realized she was gonna murder me. I walked into the room, seeing her sit there on the couch man spreading while staring at me with a glare. "You put on quite the show, didn't you? I would say I loved it, but I mean, did I baby? Was a bit confused on why you randomly decided to throw you ass. Wait, let me rephrase that. Throw my ass back against that girl." She motioned me to walk over na di stood between her legs until she pulled me down. "You hear that, my ass. Because you mine, belong to me. All of you are mine. Seems like you forgot, let me remind you then, what do you say, baby?" I nodded mindless to her commands. "Who's the best baby, say it?" I could barely heat her when she started to grind me against her lap. "Say it pretty." I managed to mutter it out finally. "You're the best, baby. Only you. Always you."
(Request by @pinksults)
#street woman fighter 2#swf2#street woman fighter x reader#bada lee x reader#bada lee#redlic#Spotify
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✽ Ruby mound ✽
(Frankie Morales x f!reader)
Summary : A snapshot of a moment of peace in the park with Frankie.
Rating : T (just kissing in here, I had fun with it though hehe).
Word count : 1,154
Warnings : Established relationship, fluff, kissing, fluff, naps in a park, did I mention fluff?
A/N : Hiya there! So I found the picture in the center of my moodboard on Pinterest and naturally i went “FRANKIE!”, then twelve hours later I couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote this! Also, this is my first time sharing anything I’ve ever written so just know that I’m very nervous but I’m open to all kinds of criticism as long as it’s not rude, or else I 150% WILL cry.
You felt the sweet spring breeze flowing against your skin.
Infused with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh, bright, green grass; the draught sends goosebumps rising in your arms.
The sound of leaves rustling and dancing to the rhythm of the air reached your ears and as you raised your head to look up at them. You find the rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches of the tree you settled under the shadows of.
You looked back down at your lap, the soft snores of your Frankie grounding you to safety and calmness. And the feel of his soft, brown locks between your fingers giving you a sense of serenity and peace.
With a particularly strong gust of wind, a beautiful Ruby mound drifted through the air to fall next to you.
You stretch your arms a little uncomfortably to reach for the discarded flower without disturbing Frankie’s catnap.
You brought the flower closer to your face to inspect it, the long petals vibrant with a ruby red colour, and they twirl in response to you twisting the stem between your fingers.
You glanced back down at your boyfriend, the tension lines on his face vanishing with no trace. The steady cadence of his chest rising and falling with his breath making your heart swoon.
As you gaze upon his peaceful, vulnerable form, you feel a strong wave of affection and warmth stirring deep inside you.
You love him so deeply.
You love him with an overwhelming intensity that makes your heart almost burst with it.
And you know he feels the same way about you.
In the way he looks at you with an adoring gaze that makes you feel like you’re the only person that matters in a room full of people.
In the way he ever so gently brushes your hair to tuck the escaping strands behind your ear, just to place his hand in the nape of your neck to tenderly place a kiss on your forehead that lingers further than a casual kiss would.
In the way he never misses a chance to have you in his arms. Whether it’s a lazy movie night where he doesn’t watch the movie because he can’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face in your chest, feeling your soft skin against his cheek. Or if it’s a fancy night out where he’ll keep a hand on you at all times because it grounds him when he gets a strong surge of emotions on date nights.
You both know that this is it for you.
You are each other’s present, future and eternity.
Looking lovingly at him, you gently insert the Ruby mound behind his ear. His thick hair masking the stem and making the flower appear as if it’s magically grown from his curls.
You smiled at the beautiful sight. Thinking about the similarities between the flower and your Frankie.
The Ruby mound endured the wind that plucked it from its own home, travelled an unknown distance until it found its way to you. Yet it never lost the delicacy and fragility that it possessed. Indicating the resilience that never wavered in the face of adversities.
Despite the atrocities he faced in his years of serving. Your Frankie still preserves his genuine features.
His compassion is evident when he comforts you after a long stressful day, listening attentively to your concerns while he draws shapes on the shins of your sprawled legs on his lap.
You're always left at awe at his thoughtfulness when he shows up at your work with your favourite food during his lunch break. Because he knows you were running late that morning and you didn’t get to have breakfast.
You’d think after three years of this constant, unwavering care you’d get used to it. But in all honesty, you’re enamoured with everything that Frankie does. And you think you’ll continue to do so for the longest time.
As much as you dread extracting Frankie from his cocoon of tranquillity, by now the sun is about to set and this moment of serenity has to come to an end like it was bound to. And you have to wake him up.
You slowly run your hand on his scruff, feeling the rough texture under your fingertip.
He hums softly in his sleep when he feels your touch back on him again.
“Frankie?” You whisper gently to not startle him.
When he doesn’t even stir, you lower your head enough to kiss his temple, calling his name again.
When that doesn’t work either, you pepper feather light kisses all over his face. Making sure to cover his eyelids, nose and chin.
His lips quirk up at the corners as he begins to wake up. You don’t stop landing the kisses until he starts to chuckle and his hands raise to your chin to guide your lips to his where you kiss him as tender as you can in that awkward angle.
When you pull away, he opens his eyes with a groggy smile; “Hi”.
“Good morning sleepyhead.” You said through your smile while still caressing his scruff “how do you feel?”
“Like I’m in a dream with an angel above my head” he rasped while leaning into your touch.
“Mmm, such a flatterer” you playfully pinched his cheek, earning a chuckle from him “do you want to take a stroll before we lose light?”
He sat up and stretched his arms above his head. And turned to look at you when you started giggling to yourself.
“What?” He said with a quizzical smile on his handsome face “what’s so funny?”
“Nothing, you just look so pretty like this” you said with an adoring gaze.
“Like what?” He turned to face you entirely.
You wordlessly picked up your phone, opened your camera app and pinched his chin to turn his head to the side. You took a picture of the Ruby mound tucked into his hair and showed it to him.
He chuckled as realisation dawned on him “yeah you’re right, it suits me”
“You look like a charming flower prince!” You said excitedly.
“Does that make you my gorgeous flower princess?” He said with a wink.
“Hmm I suppose it would” you said slyly, your gaze flitting down to his lips.
He leaned closer to you and placed his hand on your jaw “you definitely are” he whispered against your lips before your lips melted against each other with an intimate rhythm that sent a rush of warmth coursing through your bodies.
As you walked with your hands clasped together under the pink and orange hues of the sunset, you were sure that you’re not afraid of the uncertainties of the future anymore. You found solace and strength in your Frankie and you couldn’t ask for more than that.
Your charming flower prince that you will cherish always and forever.
A/N : If you stuck around until you reached me here; THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH & you made my day <33 please share your thoughts with me here or on Twitter (X 🙄) @/Loon_martell 🤍.
#frankie morales#francisco morales#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x ofc#frankie x reader#frankie morales fanfic#frankie morales fanfiction#triple frontier fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic
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Ya know, I was gonna be done. I spent hours yesterday talking friends off ledges when people were harassing them for being excited about the watcher announcement, or when their anxiety ballooned while watching the never-ending fucking tide of absolutely entitled morons kept piling on and on and on and spreading baseless bullshit every where.
But like, I cannot be done.
Because I am just so fucking disappointed. I'm so fucking sad to be sitting here watching people writhe with glee over the reactions to the announcement, and fill their little vengeful mugs in anticipation of watching the fall of a fledgling independent media company they are literally standing around lighting matches to throw onto the pyre.
Y'all make me sick.
You profess to love these guys, to want to see them succeed, to enjoy the stuff they make for you. You beg and demand and scream for more time with Ryan and Shane and bitch constantly during periods of the year when it's not Ghost Files or Puppet History time. You complain to anyone who will listen about how this is a betrayal, as if they're your fuckin' friends who you know personally.
News flash, they're not. They never were. You're parasocially attached to the plush puppet and the guy who sticks his hand up it in a way that is detrimental to your critical thinking skills and you know what? Fucking don't subscribe to the streamer. Who fucking wants you around anyway?
I would bet American cash money that none of you have EVER had to sit with your staff in a meeting and figure out how you were going to keep your company afloat. That none of you have ever had to decide to take a risk like this, in this kind of economic climate and be cautiously excited about what it might mean for you and then to have this absolute viciousness being the response.
I'm really sorry that for some people the price is just out of their reach. I completely understand wanting to join in on something and being unable to because of the money. The amount of times I've had to say no to doing something fun because I just didn't have the cash is not a small amount. It sucks. It really sucks.
But you know, the emotionally mature response to not being able to afford something is to be like, well is there a way that I can save up for this? Something else I can cut out? And if the answer is no, then, unfortunately, sometimes, you just have to be left out. This is a fact of life.
Do you people also get bitchy with artists who charge commission prices that mean they can afford to live?
The comparisons of Watcher to non-network television streamers are laughable. Like, Watcher is absolutely not on the same level of operating profitability as other streaming services. They are an independent production studio that gives a shit about making content that they like to make and taking care of their employees and the other people who are associated with them. And in order for them to continue to make the stuff we like (Ghost Files, Puppet History, et al), we're gonna have to buy-in.
Seeing people say with their full chests that they should just fire people? Are you fucking hearing yourselves? Who should they fire? Their queer employees? The people who write and do sound and edit? The people who make Ghost Files or Puppet History look the way it looks? The people who are the reason the shows work?
And, I'm sorry, but if you think that the solution here is that they should just ... make worse shows, I don't even know what to say to you at all. Sorry that Steven and Ryan and Shane wanna do more than lifeless unsolved copies for the rest of their lives. Go watch fucking unsolved if you want that, watcher has always wanted to do more, do better, make bigger things. And you know what? They are for sure allowed to do that.
I am also utterly enraged by the racism. I cannot even imagine what it's like to be any Watcher employee of colour today, watching the hate and the cruelty roll in. Y'all are just fucking mean, and gross, and I hope you all walk on legos in the dark in bare feet.
Everyone who is acting like this is some fucking personal betrayal needs to go smoke a bowl or do a bong rip and chill the fuck out.
#things jess says#i did not sleep for shit last night#i am exhausted#i am sad#i am disappointed#i am enraged by the racism#by the way that people are out here being their worst selves over six fucking dollars#over some videos they feel entitled to because they were once accessible for free#breaking news but shit costs money#i'm sorry you live in a fantasy land where it doesn't#it must be really nice
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1 and 8 for the verbal prompts for platonic yan donnie where he sees the reader as a little sibling, if thats ok?
A/N, not important: Thank you for the message specifying it was for Rise! You're very sweet. Sorry for the absence, a lot has been going on. I'll try to catch up w/ requests soon. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
Tw: Kidnapping, yandere themes, slight manipulation(?), injury to hand
Words: 1613
Prompt(s) requested: 1V("Well that wasn't very smart.") & 8V("See. Look at this. We're bonding.")
Summary: Hanging out with Donnie has been great! It's just, you'd really like to go home now.
“I want to go home.” My voice resonates through Donnie’s lab, my feet swinging back and forth as I spin on the chair Donnie parked me in. He doesn’t move, and I assume he didn’t hear me. “Hey Donnie? Can I go home now?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, fiddling with my thumbs. Donnie barely moves at my words, the slight tensing of his body the only sign he heard me. I let out a loud sigh, leaning back in the chair. I watch Donnie’s back. No reaction. I sigh again, louder this time.
I was getting frustrated with Donnie’s lack of acknowledgement, I couldn’t understand why he was ignoring me. I slip out of the chair, it spinning slightly from the force I used to get off. I walk up to Donnie, my finger hooking onto the fabric wraps on his arm. I tug twice, my face furrowed. “Donnie?”
Donnie glances at me, his face set in a hard stare. His hands were tense, his eyes clouded with thought. It didn’t seem like he was even looking at me properly. I stomp my foot, tugging on the fabric again. Donnie finally sets his current project down, the screwdriver set to the side. I straighten up, proud. I had gotten his attention, all by myself. I didn’t even have to go to Raph this time!
“I want to go home.” I repeat, my hands now clasped around his arm. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. Maybe my parents would make my favorite food tonight, I hadn’t been home in a while. Mikey’s cooking was great, but nothing came close to what my parents made. I look at Donnie expectantly, waiting for him to get up and show me the way out. Maybe he’d let me ride on his battle shell again. I hoped so, it was fun.
Donnie’s eye twitches slightly and he takes a deep breath. I frown. He wasn’t standing up. He finally turns to look at me, my hands dropping to my side so he could move his chair fully. I grin up at him, waiting for him to get up, for him to take me home. I missed my parents. Donnie and his brothers were cool, but I liked my house. I was ready to go home. Donnie invited me to stay over with him two weeks ago, but I was bored now. It wasn’t as much fun living in the sewers as I thought it’d be.
Donnie’s eyes flick over me for a moment, his gaze scanning my features. He slumps in his seat a bit, two fingers rubbing where his sharpie on eyebrows were. I frown; he still isn’t getting up. I move to grab his hand again, but he picks his hand up and faces his palm towards me. “Why do you want to leave? I thought you were having fun.”
“I was, but now I want to go home. Please Donnie?” I whine, my voice drawing out the syllables to ‘was’ in a flair of dramatics. I pout, trying to get him to take me. I was tired of sleeping in the spare bedroom the Hamato’s lent me. It was cool I got to decorate it, but I missed my room. It wasn’t the same here.
“No, not right now. We’re bonding.”
I whine, throwing my hands in the air. “But why can’t I leave? We ‘bond’ all the time.”
Donnie sighs, his hand flicking through the screen to his right. I watch his hand move, the writing and diagrams flicking past the screen faster than I could compute. He glances back at me, a chart showing on the screen. His two pointer fingers touching on the screen, then moving apart makes it zoom in. The softshell angles the screen towards me, my body shifting to lean on his chair so I could examine the graph.
“This is your area’s crime rate,” His voice is soft, his hands moving across the screen and pointing at different sections of the graph. It was a line graph, showing the amount of crime in our area over the year. I puff out my cheeks, annoyed. How was this relevant? My parents were home and they were fine. “It’s been spiking recently. My brothers can protect you here, I can protect you here. I’m your brother, I’m not sending you back home to your incompetent caretakers.”
Donnie’s words take a moment to process and I blink up at him. He was still talking, his hands moving around while he explains on and on about how living here with him is better, safer. I look away, my eyes focusing on the floor, then they table. Donnie isn’t my brother; He’s just a close friend. I chew on my cheek. Who did he mean by my ‘caretakers’? My parent’s? A deep frown etches onto my face, my bottom lip sticking out. He insulted my parents in the same breath he claimed to be my brother.
“You’re not my brother.”
My sudden words make Donnie pause his rant, his eyes shifting back to me. His face twitches again, his eyes narrowing to meet my own. His hands settle down at his armrests, a finger tapping against the chair. “Of course I’m your brother you dumb dumb.”
I stomp my foot, my face growing hot in anger. “No you're not! And I wanna go home!”
Donnie ignores me, his hand waving away my words as if they mean nothing. His face is tilted, looking at me like I’m some dumb kid, like I don’t know any better. “You are home.”
I exhale harshly through my nostrils, turning sharply on my heel and heading for the exit. If Donnie isn’t going to take me home, maybe one of his brothers will. I hear Donnie moving around behind me, the sound of items on his desk being shuffled around makes its way through the lab. I march up to the door, grumbling. It wasn’t fair, Donnie was just being a jerk. My parents were not incompetent. They loved me and the stupid crime graph didn’t mean a thing. Donnie was just being stupid.
The metal doors of the lab swing shut right before I reach them, and I jump back in surprise. I look at the door, my frustration and anger building in my chest. I hear Donnie’s footsteps behind me, his presence taking over the room. I punch the metal doors, pulling my fist back in pain. My knuckles were red and my hand was throbbing, the metal not even dented. I feel myself tear up, my emotions building up and threatening to spill out. A large green hand encases my wrist, bringing it closer to Donnie’s face. I try to pull away from his grip; I’m still mad at him.
“Now that wasn’t very smart.” He chides, his tongue tsking against his teeth. I stomp my foot, trying to wrench my arm out of his grasp. He holds tight, tugging on my wrist to get me to follow him. “Come one, I have some bandages in here we can wrap it with.”
I stumble behind him, dragging my feet as we walk. I pout the entire way to the cabinet, his grip on my hand staying firm the whole time. He wasn’t letting me pull away. Donnie clears a spot on one of his nearby work tables, sticking me on it so he could better access my hand. He turns to grab the bandages and I stick my tongue out at him. A surge of pride settles in my chest at the small rebellion. My face quickly schools itself back to normal when he faces me once turns back, my legs swinging back and forth as if I had done nothing wrong. My tears were long forgotten, but my anger was not.
I flex my hands as he tries to wrap them, closing the hand into fists and opening them again at random to mess him up. I snicker quietly at his frustrated face, my own expression molded into a fake innocence. His hand shifts in how it’s holding my wrist, his thumb now pressed against my palm and making it difficult to close my hands. I slump backwards, my face pinched. Donnie looks down at me, rolling his eyes at my dramatics.
He finishes wrapping my hand and let's go, the mutant’s eyes scanning the bandages carefully. I pull at the wrapping, grumbling at the way it made my skin itch. My foot lightly collides with his knee, his attention turning back to my face. Our gaze meets and I hold his eyes for a moment. “Can I go home now?”
The softshell scowls. “Why would you want to leave? You have everything you could ever want here. I’m taking care of you.”
I shake my head and the turtle groans. He taps his foot on the ground, his hands on his hips. His lower lip juts out ever so slightly as he tries to figure out what to do. “What if… What if I showed you SHELLDON’s blueprint’s? Would that make you less upset?”
I pause for a moment. He would show me SHELLDON’s blueprints? My brain shifts, the exciting offer forcing itself into the forefront of my mind. We could argue about going home later, but he may never offer to show me these again. I slip off the table, grabbing his hand and leading the mutant towards his desk. Donnie smirks as he follows me, happy to have distracted me in the moment. He could deal with a game plan on how to keep me here later. Donnie would always figure it out.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donnie#donatello#tmnt donatello#donatello hamato#yandere donatello#donatello x reader#donnie rottmnt#yandere#yandere rottmnt x reader#platonic tmnt x reader#platonic x reader#platonic yandere#platonic yandere rottmnt#platonic yandere tmnt#yandere rottmnt#yandere tmnt#tw yandere#male yandere#platonic donnie#platonic donnie x reader#donnie#tmnt donnie#yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#tw kidnapping
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Free Rhys Darby ASMR Sources
So @hang-on-lil-tomato got me thinking with their post about Stede Story Time, I did all this research into all the Rhys Darby works and I realised I should probably compile it in case other folks are looking for the same things.
So yeah, I mean, Rhys doesn't do audio books as of yet, but man would that be amazing if he did. So for those of you who want to hear some good 'ol Rhys Darby voice, here's some sources. Please feel free to message me if you have more. ! I'd love to add them, and I'll tag ya :D
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Rhys Darby as Stede Bonnet Youtube Compilations
Stede say'd Ed for a full Minute by justagaycatboy
Stede Bonnet being a bitch for 4 + mins by Rae Hamilton-Vargo
Stede Bonnet being the crew's dad for almost 4 minutes by grim weaper
Stede Bonnet screaming for 2 minutes 15 seconds by "Our Flag Means Death"
Stede Bonnet cursing for almost a whole minute by Murder Turtle
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TV or Mini Series
Rhys Darby in Japan (Freevee on Amazon)
So as someone who lived in Japan for a bit, this series is really really fun. It's awkward, and funny and it's almost all Rhys Darby as he's narrating and living the whole damn thing. There are quotes from this show that I use in my every day life, I love it so much.
Short Poppies (Freevee on Amazon)
Considering most of the characters in this show are in fact Rhys Darby, it's a great way to hear his very colourful range. I haven't seen all the episodes, but I find it quite endearing.
Intrepid Journeys (Rwanda) (Youtube/nzonscreen.com)
Ty @hang-on-lil-tomato and @meanmisscharles for this recommendation! I haven't watched it yet but here's the description:
"This Intrepid Journey sees comedian Rhys Darby taking an OE to the landlocked African country of Rwanda. Darby makes a bunch of friends in the markets of capital city Kigali, then heads on a jungle adventure. Far from the New York office of his Flight of the Conchords character Murray, he searches for critically endangered mountain gorillas. Darby is guided by François — a personable and entertaining park ranger, fluent in primate dialect — whose aping gives Darby a run for his money in gorilla impersonation. Darby is quietened by a sombre genocide memorial, and a 200 kilogram silverback."
Stand up
These are pretty self explanatory, wanna hear Rhys Darby talk for an hour or so? Stand ups the way to do it, all the voices you could want and no one interrupting him.
Rhys Darby I'm A Fighter Jet
Rhys Darby: This Way Spaceship
It's Rhys Darby Night
Mystic Timebird
Youtube Shorts/Channels
Rhys' Youtube Channel featuring stand up shorts, sketches, Rhys' playing games and other fun stuff like "The Alone Rangers". All stuff I have to dive into, thanks again @hang-on-lil-tomato!
Movies
Love Birds (Included with Prime Video)
So if you follow @celluloidbroomcloset you have probably heard of Love Birds, and as someone who is totally normal for Rhys Darby, and loves birds and used to do rescue work, I have to day this movie is adorable. It's a really cute love story, and good god Rhys is hot AF. He and Sally Hawkins have amazing chemistry, and you get lots of good Rhys voice...in a romantic setting. I apologize ahead of time to any of you who lose your soul to this movie.
Coming & Going(Freevee)
So I haven't seen this one personally, so I can't speak to it (it's on my list for this week actually!) so I'll update this once I do.. but in the mean time, here's the description:
"When Lee (Rhys Darby), a young, skilled OBGYN who lacks confidence with women, suffers a minor injury that temporarily lands him in a wheelchair, he meets Alex (Sasha Alexander), the girl of his dreams. Convinced she has only paid attention to him because he's in that chair, he stays in it to win her affections well after his injury has healed."
Podcasts
The Cryptid Factor
You're gonna hear more than just Rhys, you'll hear from Dan Schreiber and Buttons (not ofmd buttons) and some other folks occasionally but you get to hear Rhys in his element, which is awesome because he is the goofy nerdy man we all know and love. The Cryptid Factor on Apple Podcasts
You can also go to their patreon and subscribe for free there-- the paid versions have video footage from a lot of shows and some other cool perks including stickers and book clubs and such.
Aliens Like Us
Thank you @hang-on-lil-tomato for this one! I hadn't found it before
General Reference to Works
Here's some overall guides to his various voice works (thank you again to @hang-on-lil-tomato )
--- Anyway -- hope that helps with your Rhys Darby very normalness :D
#rhys darby#how can i get any work done when rhys darby exists#rhys darby asmr#stede bonnet#ofmd#im totally normal about this#Spotify
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