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#we can compromise cause well
carlyraejepsans · 8 months
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i think i might be legit happy for the first time in my life.
i got out. i actually got out.
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If I absolutely have to feel like shit could it at least be cause I let it happen again instead of cause I feel like I didn't do good enough
#beatin myself over the head w/ a stick like YOU. DO. NOT. NEED. HIS. APPROVAL.#he's just tryin to dig in any insecurity he can get his goddamn hands on it doesn't mean shit#like yea i know i'm ~ outta practice ~ cause that literally just means i'm not performin at a professional fucking level#you couldn't tell the difference if you stopped tRYIN TO SHOVE THINGS DOWN MY FUCKING THROAT FFS#i shoulda just walked out but it. doesn't even register til much later cause of all the praise n cause i'm probably dissociating like hell#like. are you fucking negging me#yes. yes he is#or some other adjacent tactic that rly shouldn't work on me anymore but here we are#it'd be funny if it wasn't so damn pathetic#which is smth i say a lot lately#i have no idea if i should like......try to give myself some credit for the few boundaries i did manage to hold#cause i mean i did......refuse to sleep anywhere near him w/o surveillance#especially not in the damn car cause i could end up literally anywhere#my mistake was compromisin on the sex stuff cause when i say no it becomes a negotiation n i always end up agreeing to smth#which woulda been fine if he didn't then go on to be a dick about that something#n also if it wasn't pretty fucked up to take it as a negotiation startin point#if i say i don't wanna have sex you know damn well i mean the entire thing no matter how many loopholes your definition has#hard limits aren't the fucking startin point for a compromise they're the bottom line#but he knows all that. he's not stupid he just doesn't care.#meanwhile i'm a fucking idiot for lettin him get away w/ it#i was doin so well. i mean sure i was losin my fucking mind but i wasn't even struggling not to go to him#why can't he just fucking leave me alone if i'm not even a good fuck anymore#spdrvent
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be-good-to-bugs · 6 months
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the world isnt so bad
#the bin#i think ill be ok one day#i feel like i need to change a lot of my lofe and relationships for that to happen but ill do it and ill be better for it and ill be ok#i feel like the big thing thats been fucking me uo these past years besides not having friends is my sister#i just. dont like her. shes mean and unpleasant to be around. she seems fine if u only spend a little time around her but shes so negative#and its not enougj to just not talk much. like. i need our relationship to stop existing in its current for in a tangeble way#not enough to just talk less bc then shes like why r we talking less. but i dont have the option of just saying hey ur mean and i dont#wanna be kinda-friends anymore. we can just have the same kinda relationship i have with the rest of our siblings#because i have literally nobody else here and if she gets mad im kinda fucked. i need her to take me to work. i cant compromise that#its just. idk it sucks. i think itll be healthy to jave distance from her when i move away so that ohr relationship can do the thing quietly#idk. i would have no problem with just changing things immediately but she always has reacted badly to that stuff sooo#ive felt yhis way for many years now but i felt like i was the problem and that shes actually fine but thats not it#and i keep trying to fix it but idk. shes just unpleasant. shes not horrible but we do NOT work. i need to talk to my other older sister#more cause shes really nice. probably gonna help her get a job and stuff when i move. maybe we will move in together#only for like a temp time but just so she can get a handle on living on ur own. and she would need a ride to work n stuff#shes very loud so id rather not live with her. i wanna live alone. but i wanna help her out also bc nobody is willing to do that for her#and also treat her like a capable adult. how can she learn how to be an adult if nobody treats her like one? shes perfectly capable once#she learns but its not stuff u just know on ur own. well. without other ppl getting in the way we communicate very well#idk. thats way future stuff tho. but maybe will do that in the future. im trying to be optimistic and think abt my oter siblings to talk to#i have 3 who are old enough to have regular conversations with and the other 2 r a bit young. 2 of the 3 r kinda mean tho#well. me and my other older sister can live in the least fav children club and talk abt how rude the other 2 are lol
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fans4wga · 8 months
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26 September: thread by WGA member David Slack
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Twitter thread by David Slack @/slack2thefuture:
"As WGA leaders meet today to finalize our deal, we begin a new era for writers — and for labor in our industry. But we also begin to face the final and most insidious form of unionbusting propaganda: a years-long effort to sell the lie that our strike was not worth it.
Over the coming days, months, and years, the studios, streamers, and their surrogates will take every opportunity to undermine what we have won together. They will seize on the inevitable consessions and compromises made by our NegCom as proof that we “failed.”
They will urge us to overlook all that we won through hard work and unwavering solidarity. They will claim it wasn’t enough, that we should have gotten X instead of Y, that we lost more by striking than we gained in this new contract. And they will be wrong.
They will tell us that the strike was unnecessary, it was a waste of our time and our savings, that our agents or managers or lawyers could have gotten us everything we won through individual negotiations without anyone having to walk a picket line. Well… then why didn’t they?
As hard as it is to believe right now, these lies can work. They’ve worked before. During our 2017 strike authorization vote, it was shocking to discover how many members believed we lost the ‘07-08 strike, in which we went on strike for the internet — and won the internet.
This didn’t happen by accident. It was the result of years of whispering by studios and anti-union allies. And they don’t just do it because they’re bitter about losing. They push the lie that we used our power and lost because they hope to stop us from using our power to win.
Our strike was necessary because, in our individual negotiations, our employers consistently refused to acknowledge our right and reasonable demands. Because the profound changes we needed could only be won through the unique and overwhelming power of collective bargaining.
Our strike was necessary because our employers made it necessary by driving our income down 23% in 10 years. Because they refused to address free work in features, streaming coverage in comedy-variety, the abuses of mini-rooms and the threat of AI until we withheld our labor
Our strike was necessary. Our strike was effective. Our strike is a victory. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, it’s ‘cause they never want to see us stand up for ourselves again. Don’t believe it. We won this fight. We’re the WGA, and when we fight, we win. #WGAStrong"
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An incomplete guide to how to talk to young children (3-5 years old):
- Do not assume they understand your instructions the first time. They will ask you the same question three times. Answer it the same way, patiently. They will get it eventually.
- Children will ask strings of “why” questions. They’re not trying to be annoying; they don’t have a lot of the context older people have. Answer until you can’t, then admit you don’t know and ask them a question back. They’ll get distracted for the moment, and trust that you take their questions seriously.
- If you need a kid to do something, give a reason, but don’t give up at “I don’t want to”. If they don’t listen, it’s okay to say “I explained why, and I still need you to do it.” Be calm, and firm. Usually, kids will listen the second or third time.
- If a kid doesn’t listen to an instruction repeatedly, there’s probably something in the way. Ask them why they’re not *without accusing them*, and they’ll tell you what’s going on most of the time. Common reasons: I’m scared, I don’t know how, I miss my parent/sibling, I’m tired, I’m angry/frustrated/sad, I need help. Address the roadblock and help find a compromise that works for the both of you.
- Threats are only as good as you can enforce them. If you threaten them with a countdown, you need a consequence to back it up that is appropriate to the request. For example: “I need you to stay in your chair. I’m going to count to five. If I get to five, and you’re not sitting in your seat with your feet on the floor, I am writing down that you were not listening during snack time on your behavior report.” Keep in mind that these threats only work if the consequence is at the right level; too harsh, and they’ll get overwhelmed and shut down, but too light, and they won’t see it as a consequence. A kid who doesn’t care what their behavior report says won’t worry about a bad report as a consequence.
- Never scream at a child. Never hit them. Never continuously escalate consequences until they do what you say. These behaviors cause a child to panic, and their fear response will prevent them from doing what you want them to, as well as make them more distrusting of you in the future. It’s not just cruel, it is actively counterintuitive to correcting their behavior.
- Make a point to notice and compliment/reward good behavior, especially with kids you are biased to view as “rude” or “badly behaved”. Kids take the views of adults seriously, and if they feel as though they can’t redeem themselves in your eyes, they won’t waste energy trying. Complimenting good behavior when you see it will encourage them to repeat good behaviors to earn your praise. In addition, if there’s other children nearby, they will also mimic the complimented behavior to earn the same praise. Give it.
- Kids want to feel heard. If they want to show or tell you “something cool”, and you have a few moments, watch/listen and compliment them *regardless of if you get it or not*. If you don’t have time, say “That sounds really cool! Can you tell me after we do [insert thing]?” This tells them that you care while still making sure they do what they need to.
- Kids can be downright frustrating sometimes, especially when they need to do something and they just *won’t*. Recognize when you’re getting angry, and learn to stop talking before you direct that anger at them. Take some deep breaths, remind yourself that this too shall pass, and try a different approach.
- Always understand why you’re asking a child to do something. Not only does this help you tell them why they need to, it helps you find replacement behaviors if they can’t/won’t do it. For example: “I need you to lay down and try to sleep, because your friends are sleeping and what you’re doing right now is waking them up. If you can’t sleep after trying for a while, we can work together to find you a quiet activity that you can do at your cot.”
- Don’t expect from a child what you wouldn’t expect from yourself. Could you stand laying still and staring at the ceiling for an hour when you’re not tired? No? Don’t ask a kid to do it. Could you stand staying out in the cold for an hour without a jacket? No? Don’t ask a kid to do it. Could you stand someone yelling at you without feeling angry? No? Don’t ask a kid to do it. Even if you think you could do it, consider if you could do it with the same limitations this child has. Could you do it without the emotional regulation and impulse control you’ve developed as an adult? Could you do it without the inference skills you’ve learned after years of social interactions? Could you do it when you felt angry, tired, overwhelmed, hungry, thirsty, desperately needing to pee with no bathroom nearby? If not, don’t ask a child to do it.
- Don’t react to potty words, insults, or offensive language. Don’t laugh, and don’t act upset. Use the same tone you would if someone said something innocuous, and correct them in that tone. “We don’t say that; that’s a hurtful thing to say to someone.” Or “That’s not funny. Let’s talk about something else.”
- Kids don’t (and should not) have a sense of sexual innuendo or puberty. A four year old doesn’t understand that reaching up to hug you and touching your breasts in the process is gross. A five year old doesn’t understand that “why aren’t you a mommy?” or “why does your face have red dots on it” are weird questions to ask random people. Enforce boundaries without delving into details. “Don’t touch me there; that makes me uncomfortable” and “That’s just how it works sometimes” can be used to great effect. Importantly, don’t act angry or use a tone that indicates they did something wrong; this will seem to them like you’re arbitrarily angry.
- Kids at this age don’t have a strong sense of cognitive empathy or predicting the future. The idea that actions have consequences beyond the immediate result is a very, very new concept to them. Be prepared to explain the obvious of “why can’t I bite her when she makes me mad?”, “why can’t I steal his toy when he stole mine?”, and “why do I have to do what you tell me when I don’t want to?”
- Give explicit instructions. “Stop that” isn’t likely to be understood by a four year old. “Stop throwing the toys; please put them in the bucket gently” is far easier for a kid to follow.
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lovebugism · 8 months
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Okay maybe Eddie bought a silly couple costumes for himself and r (something cute with “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” and “I’m not wearing that.”) 🩷
ty for requesting lovie! happy fictober! ily! — eddie buys you a costume you don't feel pretty enough to wear and the gang crashes your cuddling session (hints of smut, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.5k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Your bare bodies stick together beneath a decade-old quilt. Eddie’s nice enough to let you use his lanky bicep as a makeshift pillow while you cuddle on the couch. His other hand hovers over your face, smoothing out the subtle furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb.
“What’s this face for, huh?” he singsongs into the heavy, golden, post-sex silence of the trailer. His smile is swollen and crooked and barely there. It’s a very hushed sunshine compared to your distant pout.
“‘Cause I still feel bad,” you confess, voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. Your feet knock with Eddie’s when your anxious legs entwine with his. “I made you miss that movie.”
“You didn’t make me miss shit,” Eddie laughs, assertive but not unkind. His warm palm spreads over your cheek. His chocolate eyes dance between both of yours. “I stayed in ‘cause I wanted to, alright? I wanted to spend time with you.”
“You called me a succubus,” you tease with a gentle giggle.
He had, though he doesn’t have much recollection of it. You looked far too pretty underneath him, and he’d been far too close to his orgasm. 
His hips rutted sloppily against yours, his rhythm gone totally stupid after feeling you gush around him. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” he babbled into the sticky skin of your neck, voice tighter and higher than usual. “You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, baby? Pussy’s so good… I’d fucking— I’d do anything you wanted me to— shit.”
His legs are still numb from the mind-blowing climax he had a moment later.
Eddie’s chuckle is louder and more boyish than yours. It fills the trailer with sunlight. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you are. Which means I’d much rather be here with you than at The Hawk with all those other schmucks.”
He kisses you to seal his promise — a chaste peck upon your smiling mouth. It’s beautifully innocuous compared to how good he was making you feel hardly more than five minutes ago.
“I know you don’t like those movies anyway, so…”
“That’s not true,” you argue with a very believable pout.
His gaze goes sympathetic. “Babe… You almost cried when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street the other day.”
“No, I didn’t!” You most certainly did.
“You said you weren’t gonna sleep ever again.”
“I like horror movies ‘cause you like horror movies, dummy.”
The term of endearment makes him grin. He likes it when you get all mean, though you never really mean it. “Is that so?” he lilts with raised brows that disappear behind his fuzzy bangs. The ends of the umber strands are damp with sweat.
You nod lazily against his arm. His fingers are starting to tingle with numbness, but he loves you too much to move.
“Mm-hmm. That’s how relationships work. Compromise. I tolerate horror movies, and you tolerate—”
“Your Harrison Ford obsession?”
You lose your firmness and get all sheepish. “Shut up…”
“I’m pretty sure they were showing Return of the Jedi in the theater over, right after Sleepaway Camp,” Eddie observes suddenly, brushing stray strands of your wild hair from your temple. “We coulda had a double feature tonight, but you wanted to stay in with little old me.”
“That’s ‘cause I love you a whole lot more than some guy I’ve never met.”
Eddie beams at your words. His eyes start to glitter like he’s won something, and his cheeks speckle pink with pride. He’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. He’ll never get tired of you loving him.
“I’m flattered,” he singsongs and means it.
You smile and lean in to kiss his grin. The boy gasps before you can. He springs up from the couch at a moment’s notice, climbing over you with naked limbs. He flashes you his bare ass just before he tugs on the crumbled pair of boxers left forgotten on the floor.
“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, eyes narrowed in curiosity and mouth quirked in amusement. You twist on the couch so you’re propped against the back of it. You clutch the heavy quilt to your naked chest.
“I forgot something,” Eddie mumbles, halfway to himself, then sends you a lighthearted glare over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”
You still, grinning softly at the boy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. You watch him while he rifles through a plastic bag beside the TV stand. “I got us something while I was at the Halloween store with Harrington earlier,” Eddie explains over the noisy crinkling sound.
“Oh, god…” you murmur.
Eddie laughs and looks at you over his shoulder again. “C’mon, babe. Have a little hope, would you?”
He returns to the couch with a smirk and something he hides behind his back. He grins like a kid when he reveals them to you — two packages of Star Wars themed costumes held in both his hands. 
Pictured on one is a guy who looks eerily like Han Solo — complete with the vest, blouse, and holster triad. The other is an uncanny Leia Organa in a skin-tight white suit, beige knee-high boots, and a flowing cape.
You blink at both of them, then at Eddie. 
“…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”
“Our Halloween costumes!” he exclaims with a beam. “See, I’m gonna be Han Solo— ‘cause I’m, you know, charming and sarcastic and handsome.”
“Don’t forget humble,” you joke with a lovesick grin.
“—And you will be my beautiful, hard-headed Leia Organa.”
You glance again at the package in his right hand, at the pretty woman on the cover. You know you won’t look nearly as good in the costume as she does. Your soft smile flickers. 
“Eds…” you mutter in a wavering lilt.
A frown forms between his bushy brows, similar to the one you’d been sporting earlier. “What?”
“I told you I wasn’t gonna dress up this year, remember?” you remind him, shifting awkwardly on the couch and clutching the blanket closer to yourself.
“But it’s Halloween, babe! Why wouldn’t you wear a costume?”
Your mouth opens and closes as you stammer out an excuse. “Because— I don’t know— I’m too… indecisive. Like, that’s a lot of pressure.”
“That’s why I picked for you!” Eddie grins, totally oblivious.
You laugh. It’s a bit cynical but not totally unkind. “I am not wearing that.”
He pouts, like a child or a hurt puppy. “But why not?” he wonders with a crestfallen inflection.
Again, you stammer. “Because— I mean— Just look at her, Eds!” you gesture to the package he holds with a significant focus to the girl on the front. “I don’t look like her!”
He grows from sad to confused. His brows pinch as he tilts his head to the side. His wild curls tickle his bare, pale shoulder. “Oh… kay?” he mutters, trying his best to understand you but not getting it completely.
You huff. Your chest stings as you explain it all to him.
“I’m… I’m not gonna look like the girl on the cover. You know that, right? I’m not— I’m not Princess Leia kind beautiful, you know?”
“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, seemingly agreeing with you and smiling all over again. “You’re a you kind beautiful. That’s what makes you so damn sexy.”
He leans down over you with the intention to kiss you. 
Still pouting and inwardly aching, you pull back from him.
“Eddie…” you murmur, still gentle but obviously sadder.
He concedes with a small sigh. The couch cushions dip with his weight when he sits down beside you. He leaves the packages abandoned on the other side of him and gives you his full attention. 
“Look… You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, alright? We can stay in for Halloween for all I care. I just… I think it’d be a lot of fun, you know?” the boy rambles with a seriousness that’s typically foreign to him. His palm smooths across your knee over the thick quilt. His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “And I think you’d look… very pretty as my Princess Leia.”
His chocolate eyes twinkle with an undeniable sincerity. It makes your chest feel so warm it burns.
“Yeah?” you mumble, not quite believing him but wanting him to hear him say it anyway.
“Totally,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. He presses a lingering peck to your lips, then melts when he tastes leftover sex upon them. 
A switch flips within him then. His belly twists, and his eyelids get all heavy. His smirk is weighed down by lust as he pulls back from you and shrugs. “I think I could show you better than I could tell you, actually…”
Across the living room, the door busts open. 
Sunlight explodes throughout the dim trailer, making the two of you squint. 
Steve enters first, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival. “Phone’s off the hook,” he observes, pointing to the telephone lying face up on the table beside the front door. 
Eddie had two fingers inside you, and the thing just wouldn’t stop ringing. He grumbled in annoyance when he had to part from you to hang it up.
Steve puts the thing back on the hook while Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle walk in behind him.
Mortified, you watch with wide eyes as your uninvited friends file in. Your grip tightens around the blanket. You use one hand to make sure every inch of your naked body is covered with it.
Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by it as you are. Instead, he huffs in annoyance and spreads his arms along the back of the couch. They were the ones barging in, after all. If they had a problem with his pale, lanky figure and his thin, plaid boxers, then that was on them.
“Oh. Come in,” he hums, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “Make yourselves at home.”
Robin’s got a thousand-year stare in her eye and a blue, red, and purple mouth. “Can I use your bathroom?” she wavers, voice strained. Her fists are clenched beneath her baggy flannel. They tremble beside her baggier jeans.
“Uh, yeah. Knock yourself out.”
She’s already rushing down the hall before he can get the words out.
The two of you watch her leave and then turn to Steve. He’s an expert in all things Robin Buckley nowadays. He shrugs and tells you, “She had, like, four slurpees while we were waiting on you guys at The Hawk.”
You shift awkwardly like you’re getting scolded. Eddie only laughs.
As all the gang settles around the trailer — Jonathan on the recliner, Nancy on the arm of it, and Steve sitting on the adjacent table — Argyle is the only one without a place to sit. He idles beside the couch, smiling at you with rosy lips and rosier eyes.
“How are you doing today, amigo?” he wonders with a curt nod, as mellow as ever.
You smile up at the boy, not nearly as fazed by the bright style and long raven hair as you used to be. Actually, you’ve grown quite fond of his slurred jokes that don’t really have a punchline because halfway through, he realizes he’s forgotten it entirely.
“Good,” you respond, crossing your arms over the quilt you’ve got bunched at your chest. “You?”
“I’m peachy, brochacho,” he nods back at you. He grins, but the bright expression is weighed down by the weed. The skunky smell entwines with his musky cologne, creating a deep earthy scene that’s much more bearable than the weed alone.
“Not that I’m not thrilled you guys showed up—” Eddie starts with an inflection that would imply otherwise, wide eyes flitting around the room. “—But what the hell are you doing here?”
“You’d know if you answered the phone,” Steve retorts with a scrunched nose, flipping through a random car magazine. The Beemer on the front matches the sunshine yellow of his sweatshirt.
“Well, I was a little busy, Harrington—”
You nudge Eddie before he can finish the stupid joke. Everyone could already hear it anyhow — “I was a little busy, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 
He shoots you an innocently confused look. You give him a half-hearted glare in return.
“You guys flaked on movie night, so we brought the movies to you,” Nancy singsongs with a sweet, pink smile.
Jonathan unrolls the folded-up paper bag between his feet. The flimsy cardboard crackles loudly as he rifles through it. He pulls out a number of unblanketed VHS tapes with handwritten stickers glued to the front of them. 
“Uh… We got Sleepaway Camp, obviously,” the Byers boy mutters in his usual Byers way. He waves the tape in his hand and sits it off to the side. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more. “Twilight Zone and, uh, Return of the Jedi.”
Eddie is as grateful as he is confused. Movie night wasn’t totally gone, and both of your movies had been seemingly carrier-pigeoned to his trailer, but neither should be out on VHS yet. “How…?” the boy trails off with pinched-together brows.
Argyle answers. “Let’s just say I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” he smirks, then swirls his features in puzzlement. It looks like he’s trying to do math in his head. “…Who knows a guy.”
“I can pop some popcorn if you guys wanna, you know, make yourselves decent,” Steve teases with a feigned maliciousness as he hops off the square table. The old thing squeaks under his weight.
Eddie’s retort doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Right. My bad, Stevie. It’s not like you totally barged in on us or anything.”
You shake your head at their bickering, though you’re still smiling quietly to yourself. Eddie shields you while you rise from the couch. You wear the heavy quilt like a dress as you shuffle down the hallway to his bedroom. The thing trails behind you as you go.
“Sorry about them, sweetheart,” Eddie apologizes as soon as the door clicks closed. 
He’d wanted to say something earlier, but kept his mouth shut instead of making it a bigger deal. He knew you were bound to be embarrassed — because you almost always tend to be, anyway. He didn’t want to draw attention to the situation, or least of all to you, and make it that much worse.
“’S okay,” you shrug and drop the blanket on the carpet. 
Eddie tries not to go all teenage boy at the sight of your naked body, but he nearly loses his mind when you bend over to pick up one of his t-shirts from the floor. 
“We did sorta flake on them,” you reason as you tug the cotton over your head. The baggy fabric falls over you like rain.
Eddie shakes his head, mostly at himself. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.
“Only you would blame yourself when those assholes walked in on us,” he laughs, walking the short distance to you and wrapping you in his arms from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You smell like flowers, sex, and his cologne. 
“You’re too sweet for your own good, baby. No wonder those schmucks won’t leave us alone.”
Robin’s voice seemingly comes from within the walls — ‘cause the bathroom is only one room over, and the walls are especially thin. “Rude!” she grouses, voice muffled. “I mean, it’s true, but still.”
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daydreaming-nerd · 13 days
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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 2
Part 1
AN: Wow I just want to say I have been so overwhelmed by the love part one got. Thank you for all the comments! I truly cherish each one!This part is a little short, because if I end up doing two different versions (a Lucien version and an Az version) this is where they will probably split off.
If you're new here check out my masterlist!
Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 
Warnings: so much fluff, Angst, they be fightin'
Word count: 3485
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“Are you sure you want to do this?  We can fully elope if you want to.” I whisper to Lucien as we stand in front of the double oak doors to my brother's office. 
At first I was confident that we had nothing to worry about. But now that I stood here, with only an ornate piece of wood separating us from the High Lord? The nerves had started settling in.
“I’m sure, an honorable male would ask your brother's permission before wedding you, and you deserve nothing but an honorable male.” he smiled, squeezing my left hand, the one his family ring currently found its home on. 
“But what if he says-” 
“Are you seriously doubting my silver tongue right now?” he smirked, cocking an eyebrow at me. “There’s a reason I was cursed to wear a fox mask for 50 years my darling.” 
“Believe me I know all about that silver tongue,” I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder as I recalled what that silver tongue did to me last night.  
“Shall we?” he asked, donning an unbothered face. 
“We shall,” I smiled before pushing open the doors. 
Inside the ostentatious study sat my brother, with his mate perched on his desk beside him with her back facing us. He broke his love sick gaze on her to see Lucien and I standing at the end of his desk. 
“Sister…Lucien, this is a surprise,” Rhys said, fixing some papers on his desk, as if to collect the thoughts swirling inside his head as well. 
“I’m sorry we didn’t knock, that was an oversight on our part,” I laughed thinking about the thousands of compromising positions we might’ve found them in. I silently thanked the cauldron for keeping that reality at bay. 
“I was hoping I could discuss something with you,” Lucien said regally. I was so taken back by his tone I couldn’t help but look up to him, his face was nothing short of the son of a High Lord. 
The air in the room stiffened as Feyre turned around to sit on the arm of Rhys chair, I suddenly felt like I was in a fishbowl. My brother and I had always been very close, I had shared everything in my life with him, there wasn’t a story of mine he didn’t know. But he didn’t know about Lucien, and I wasn’t sure how he would react to that. 
“Of course Lucien you can speak to us about anything,” Feyre smiled warmly,  placing her hand over Rhys’ as if to calm him down.
“With all due respect Feyre this is just between Rhysand and myself,” Lucien stated with the utmost respect, yet I still nudged his foot in warning. 
Rhys shifted in his seat a bit, placing his hand on Feyre’s hip, “Anything you have to say to me you can also say to my mate Vanserra.” 
This was not going according to plan. 
“Well, you see,” Lucien looked at me and I gave him a subtle nod to continue. “Y/n and I have been seeing each other for quite sometime now-” 
“And by seeing each other you mean?” Rhys interjected. 
Lucien cleared his throat, “We’re all adults here Rhysand I-” 
“You mean to tell me you’ve been fucking my sister?!” Rhys growled and I swear the mountains stirred in the distance. 
“Rhys calm down!” I shout but Feyre speaks up first. 
“How long has this been going on for?” Feyre asks, calmly. Her voice seemingly caused Rhys to lower his hackles. 
“Since Starfall,” Lucien answered truthfully. 
“Dammit I owe Cassian money,” she cursed looking at the door of the adjacent room. 
Rhys turned to look at his mate bewildered, “you had suspicions and you didn’t tell me?” he gasped. 
“Well Cassian thought they were going to hookup that starfall but I said there was no way,” Feyre said seemingly disappointed she lost a bet. 
“Guys?” I probe, turning both of their attentions back to us.
“What I’m trying to say is I admire your sister very much Rhysand, and I would like to ask for your permission for her hand in marriage,” Lucien said, giving my hand a squeeze. 
Feyre looked to Lucien, “But Elain is your mate?” she asks, confused. 
“And Azriel is yours y/n,” Rhys reminded me. 
“Come on Rhys, it’s been 400 years. If the bond was going to snap it would’ve happened by now. Azriel doesn’t want me.” I say honestly, and for the first time, the words don’t sting as much as they normally do. 
Lucien picks up my train of thought, “And Elain has made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with me.” he says to Feyre, who gives him an apologetic glance.
I look over to see Lu smiling down at me, “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and we get along well. I’m at my happiest when I’m with him,” I smile back at him before turning to my brother and Feyre once more. “Lucien is a good male, he’s kind and he takes care of me. I think we could make eachother really happy.” 
Lucien tugs on my hand to bring my attention back to him, “And y/n is a beautiful, smart, and charming woman. Any male would be lucky to call her his wife, including me.” his lips curl upward, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him. 
I had begged the Cauldron all my life to bring someone into my life who would choose me. I used to think that person was Azriel, but after all my years of flirting with him and trying to get the bond to snap I was only ever met with nothing. Yet here Lucien was, standing in my brother's office, saying I choose you. 
Feyre’s voice broke my train of thought and pulled both of our attentions, “Aww, Rhys they're so sweet,” she beamed grasping onto my brother's arm. 
Just like I had prophesied, I saw my brother's hard exterior melting under the ‘ooos’ and ‘ahhhs’ of his beloved High Lady. He stood from his desk and I felt Lu tense beside me as we both waited with bated breath for what the High Lord was going to say next. 
“Lucien Vanserra,” he said, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.” 
The tension in the air dissipated as everyone in the room smiled, Feyre was practically jumping for joy. Lucien gave Rhys a firm handshake over his desk and I could see that while the proposal was unexpected for my brother, he wasn’t unhappy. He knew just as well as I did that Lucien was a good male, that he would be good to me. 
“Oh we need to start shopping for dresses right now! I’ll grab Mor and Nesta and we can go out! We’re going to need a cake too!” Feyre squealed, hugging me tightly. 
“Uhh that’s the other thing,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to step on my sister-in-law's happiness. “We didn’t want a big wedding.” 
“We actually wanted to elope, and we want you two to be our witnesses.” Lucien picked up my sentence.
“Oh of course we will,” Feyre smiled looking at both of us before wrapping her arm around Rhys. 
Rhys looked more troubled than he did moments ago, like the idea of an elopement didn’t sit right with him. However if he did feel that way, he didn’t voice it. Not when the idea seemed to excite Feyre so. 
“When is the date?” Feyre inquired. 
I looked to Lucien who was already looking to me for an answer. We had never given the date a thought. I shrugged my shoulders at him, hoping he might take the lead. His eyes twinkled with mischief, it was that same look he gave me before he did something like wipe whipped cream on my nose or use his flames to singe my bum as he slapped it.
“The day after tomorrow,” he said with certainty. 
“The day after tomorrow?” the whole room gawked. 
Lu turned back to me, “Yes. We’ve never been conventional, why start now,” he gushed giddy with infectious excitement. 
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face, “Okay,” I giggled. “the day after tomorrow.”
He leaned down to scoop me up in his arms spinning me around the room, Feyre’s laughter and my own bouncing off the ornate wood paneled walls. 
“But what will you wear?” Feyre asked, seemingly trying to figure out something in her head already. 
I pondered the idea myself before it hit me like a ton of bricks, “Oh I can wear mothers dress!” I exclaimed looking at Rhys.
“I’m sure that’s what she would’ve wanted,” Rhys smiled, tossing his arm around his excited wife. 
We parted ways with the promise of seeing them later this evening at family dinner. An event I typically despised, but now? Things didn’t seem so dull. I was walking in with my fiance, instead of alone. 
Lucien and I ran down the hallways hand in hand, laughing like teenagers getting away with sneaking out. 
“I can’t believe I just did that,” he laughed, backing me against a wall. 
“Did what?” I ask, out of breath from running. 
He leaned in close to my ear, “Told your brother how thoroughly I’ve been fucking you,” he smirks pressing a kiss beneath my ear. 
“Well you didn’t use language that graphic,” I snicker while playing with the ends of his hair. 
He pulls his head back from my neck to give me that mischievous look again, “I can always go back in there and tell him,” he teases. 
“Or…” I say low in his ear, “you could just show me.” I say suggestively. 
Lu’s lips curl upward brushing against the shell of my ear, “You little minx!” he growls hoisting me up, earning a squeal from me. 
“You are beautiful and amazing and charming and you are going to be my wife,” he gushes, placing a kiss on my lips for every tender word. 
Lu smiles at me before titling my chin up to meet his lips, the kiss warm and sweet. His hands pull my waist closer to him, and I bring my own from his chest to loop around his neck. He presses his forehead. 
This was the start of a new chapter, one where I was somebody’s first choice. One where I was chosen and loved. One where I didn’t come home to an empty home, or show up to solstice parties without a date. One where I had someone to kill the spiders in the house for me, one where I was chosen. 
As Lucien held me close to him, I could sense he felt all the same things too. It was a new start for both of us. A chance to be happy. 
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That evening after much celebration from Lucien and I that involved some time between the sheets…and the shower… and the living room floor…we finally dressed for dinner. 
Dinner with the family was typically a laid back affair, it was the one time a week we could all see one another. Rhys would even make sure no one had any assignments during that time so that there were no interferences. My dress was nice yet laid back, nothing like what I would wear for starfall or a ball. 
Lucien came up behind me as I put on my earrings in the stand up mirror.
“You look lovely, my wife looks lovely,” he said, taking the earring back from my hand to place it on himself. Kissing my bare shoulder in the process. 
“I’m not your wife yet,” I smile, turning in his arms. 
“Maybe so but you’re going to be,” he reminds me, kissing my nose. 
“The day after tomorrow,” I say 
“The day after tomorrow,” he repeats back. “Now let’s go before our tardiness causes your brother to call off the wedding.” 
I laugh taking his hand and walking down the townhouse steps into the brisk night air. I checked to see that I had moved my impromptu engagement ring to my right hand before we got too far away. While I was excited about marrying Lu it was important to me that the wedding stay an elopement.  I wasn’t sure how the rest of the family would react. Despite our good humor and book swapping, Nesta may choose to rip off my head for taking her sister’s mate and who knew how Cassian might feel about me marrying a Vanserra, even if it was Lucien. 
As Lu held open the gate to the townhouse for me, the same way he did on starfall a year ago. I was sure that I had made the right choice. Not just in my future life partner, but in keeping the engagement secret for just a few days more. 
The family gathered around the table, each one of them placing a dish in the center to be shared. During dinners we didn’t like to have the maids do all the work, per the request of the Archeron sisters. They said it felt more homey if we all pitched in on the work and they were right. Lu and I parted ways and I gave Feyre and Nesta a warm hug before continuing to set the table. It seemed everyone was in high spirits as even when I passed by Rhys to lay down the potatoes he gave me a kiss on the forehead. 
Maybe everyone was in a good mood for once, or maybe things just seemed lighter because I didn’t walk in here by myself tonight. 
Dinner moved quickly, and Lucien sat next to me as he normally did, both of us thick as thieves kicking each other's feet all night. It was impossible to keep such a happy secret from the family, but it was also insanely fun. Every now and then I caught a knowing glance from Rhys or Feyre. But whenever Rhys looked at me his next glance was always to Azriel, who didn’t seem to suspect a thing.
When the meal was over we all took our goblets of wine and moved to the living room to drink, laugh and tell war stories, as we always did. Normally this was when I would make some half-assed excuse as to why I had to leave. The last thing I wanted to see was a bunch of mated couples all over each other. My heart still panged as Elain chose to sit on the arm of Azriel’s chair, but it was lightened by the brush of Lucien’s fingers against the back of my head as he went to sit across the room next to Rhys and Feyre. 
It wasn’t until Cassian started talking about going to war with the Valkyries for the one millionth time that I decided that I definitely needed more wine for this story. So I stood and marched my way into the kitchen with the promise of bringing back a couple bottles for everyone. 
The walk-in wine cellar in the kitchen was cold, so when I turned around with two bottles in hand and bumped into a very warm chest I nearly yelped. 
“Shhh it’s just me,” Lucien grinned, taking the two bottles from my hand to place on the counter beside us. 
“Lu you scared the shit out of me,” I say in a hushed tone as he hoists me onto the countertop. 
“I’m tired of watching them all cuddle up to one another in there, I want to cuddle up to you as well,” he smirked, placing kisses all over my neck. 
“Down boy,” I giggle, acting like I don’t feel the exact same way. I feel his lips curl against my skin as I run my hands through his hair.
“This is only going to get worse once you’re my wife,” he smiles, placing a slow kiss on my lips. 
“WIFE?!” 
I whip my head around from where I’m sitting on the counter to see Azriel standing in the doorway, a look of pure betrayal written all over his face. Lucien’s hands found my waist pulling me off the counter so that my feet were firmly on the floor. 
“You’re marrying him?!” Azriel shouts again and suddenly a smaller figure appears behind him, swathed in light pink and roses. 
“He’s my mate you can’t just take him,” Elain exclaims, seemingly coming into her own. 
I immediately see red at her words, completely disregarding Azriel in the room. Elain who wouldn’t give Lucien the time of day. Elain who knowingly entered an unethical relationship with Azriel and flaunted it. Elain who barely glanced at the pearl earrings Lucien had bought her for solstice. She had the gall to claim him, after the way she treated him.   
“Take him?” I scoff. “You don’t even want him.” I shout back, the words coming off a little harsher than expected. 
“She’s right y/n, Lucien is her mate,” Azriel interjected looking down at me, as if this situation didn’t benefit him in every way. Gods he would just do anything to make that girl happy. 
“That’s deft coming from you shadowsinger,”  Lucien snickered disdainfully, cocking his head at the spymaster. 
Azriel bristled, “What's that supposed to mean?” he snarled. 
I put a hand on Lucien’s chest to get him to back down, “It doesn’t matter, we’re happy. Is it really your mission to make everyone in this court miserable but yourself Elain?”
“HEY!” Azriel barked, taking a step towards me, his shadows rising behind him. 
Before he can get a step closer Lucien grabs his arm, “Easy,” he hissed, but Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave my scared form. 
Never in my life had Azriel raised his voice at me in such a manner. While I wanted to say I was unphased, the outburst had scared me.  As soon as he noticed my reaction to his behavior, a realization seemed to dawn on him, and he quickly stepped back.
“You’re taking my mate, was there a way I was supposed to react?” Elain sneered just as snarky as ever, as if this was just a cat fight among the females. 
The red I saw turned to crimson as I realized once more what she was doing. She didn’t want Lucien because she loved him. She wanted him because she felt entitled to him, she wanted both of them. My mate and hers. 
“You take my mate, I’ll take yours!” I seethed the words spilling out of me like venom, unstoppable and poisonous to those in the room. 
Elain’s eyes widened and I realized that the secret that I had kept for 400 years had finally come out. My stomach dropped and my blood ran cold, the world around me fading away as I discerned what I had done.  
“What did you just say?” Azriel said in disbelief, my eyes flitted over to his. 
Anger and hurt flashed in his golden eyes. I didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t know what to say. I had never prepared for this. 
“Azriel I-” 
“I’m your mate?!” he sneered, his voice tinged with malice.
 I felt a scarred hand grip my upper arm as if to winnow me away but Lucien was on Azriel in an instant gripping his arm right back. 
“Get your hands off my wife,” he growled, raising his own metaphorical hackles. 
“By the looks of it she’s not your wife yet. But apparently she’s my mate so I will handle her however I please,” Azriel said, getting up in Lu’s face, but to Lucien’s credit he didn’t back down.
It was as if after 400 years the bond snapped for Az. And every urge that came with that bond had snapped in place with it. The worst part of it all was that I didn’t know how to feel.   
“That may be true but I won’t allow you to touch her in anger,” Lucien stated glowering at the shadowsinger. 
Elain and I remained speechless and unmoving as Rhysand slid into the kitchen eyes ablaze at the scene before him. 
“What the fuck is going on?” he bellowed as he saw Azriel gripping me and Lucien gripping him. 
“It seems that Lucien has decided to wed my mate,” Azriel said with a smooth calm that sounded more like a warning shot. 
“You treat her as if she was-” Lucien snarled back before Rhys cut him off. 
“That’s enough!” he shouted and it was enough for both males to let go. “All of you get out of my sight and simmer down. We can talk about this when you can behave like adults!”
I think to protest my brother's orders, but he shoots me a glare so cold, so unyielding that I find myself sinking into Lucien’s embrace. I look to Azriel who wears his disappointment in me unnervingly well before winnowing both Lucien and I back home. 
to be continued...
Part 3
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
Text
familia || alexia putellas x reader ||
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how alexia realizes that you're the one.
"amor, what is taking you so long?" alexia huffed as she tried walking into her bedroom. her body hit the door, which didn't budge an inch since you had locked it. alexia groaned, pounding on the door until you walked over to open it. "what is taking you so long? if you do not hurry up, we will miss dinner completely."
"don't rush me, i'm almost done," you told her. alexia whined as she leaned against the doorframe. you looked ready, which was the frustrating part. however, alexia knew how you were, and you'd be insistent that something was missing.
"well, you could have fooled me," alexia said sarcastically. you swatted at her shoulder for the comment. alexia was unbothered, aside from a few dramatic noises as you sifted through your jewelry to find the perfect piece.
all of alexia's whining would be over the moment that she saw what you were looking for. the only issue was, you had entrusted alexia to put it back in your jewelry case after it was picked up from the cleaner's. several of your pieces were not in their rightful places, which meant that alexia had definitely been in the case, but you couldn't find the necklace.
"what are you even looking for?" alexia asked you. you held up your hand to silence her. you needed every bit of your concentration to find this necklace. you had met alexia's mother and sister separately many times, but rarely would both of them be together while meeting you. there were always game days, but those meetings tended to be rather brief.
"here it is!" you exclaimed as you pulled it up from a spot opposite to where you had asked alexia to put it. you were very particular about where your things went, something that alexia often made fun of you for. your spaces in her apartment were often much more chaotic, but you swore up and down that it was all perfectly arranged.
"a-are you sure that you want to wear that one?" alexia asked as she watched you put it on in the mirror. you were beyond certain that you wanted to wear this necklace that alexia had bought you. it was a choker style necklace with an 'a' charm in the center, something that she had bought after a lengthy discussion about how open you were going to be about your relationship. alexia wanted to keep things more private, but compromised with the necklace.
"of course i do. i like to wear it whenever i can," you told her. alexia smiled as she walked over to pull you into her arms. she pressed several kisses to the side of her face, all of them trailing towards your neck. "now, let's go. come on, we don't want to keep your mother waiting."
alexia knew to expect eli fretting over her. it always happened during their monthly family dinners. alba usually showed up earlier or even the night before, so eli had plenty of time to fuss over her youngest. alexia tended to be a bit busy, so she couldn't stick around as much.
"oh look at you, far too skinny. alexia, aren't you feeding this poor woman? you and i both know that i made sure you could cook properly before you left this house!" eli was quick to push past alexia and straight towards you.
you laughed nervously as eli pulled you further into the house. your recent weight loss was less because of alexia's lack of cooking skills and more due to the coaches and trainers putting you on a diet. in fact, alexia had been vehemently against it whenever it was first brought up at training. if anything, you swore that alexia had been trying to soften you up in her spare time.
"mami, i swear it is not me. the coaches have put (y/n) on a cut," alexia explained. you thought that she sounded a bit frantic, but you didn't think anything of it.
"well that is just stupid. she's already practically a skeleton." eli prodded at your ribs, causing you to chuckle a little.
"i promise eli, i am fine. a little cranky, but ale takes it with a smile and is very patient with me," you said. eli seemed to relax a little at that, but she still seemed a bit unhappy.
"well, why don't you take a seat at the table while alexia and alba bring the food out," eli told you. she led you over to the table where two glasses of wine were already waiting. alexia pouted as she shuffled into the kitchen to find alba drinking something a little stronger.
"mami's been so excited about (y/n) joining us. she didn't even tell me that i haven't been eating enough," alba huffed.
"at least mami loves her," alexia reasoned. she was feeling a little jealous at her girlfriend taking up all of her mother's attention, but alexia was more than happy that you got on with her family well.
"she loves her so much that she's forgotten about her actual children," alba grumbled. alexia swiped the bottle out of alba's hands, taking the last couple of drinks for herself in one big swig. the bottle was dropped into the trash before the girls grabbed the food and brought it out.
unsurprisingly, eli piled food onto your plate, despite your reminders that you were on a cut. alexia promised to finish whatever you couldn't, despite her plate being bigger than yours. while they had you on a cut, alexia was on a bulk. she couldn't spend as much of her training with the team as she would have liked, so she had spent that extra time lifting, which you were very appreciative of.
"so, i was looking, and there's a play on one of your upcoming off weekends. it's right after you get back from london. i was wondering if you wanted to go," alba said as she turned towards you and alexia.
"that sounds fun," you told her.
"but we might go out. it's been a while since i've had time to take (y/n) out. i was thinking ibiza," alexia said. alba frowned as she turned fully towards you, her subtle way of letting alexia know that she wasn't invited.
"well, we've got a pretty nice vacation in france coming up in the summer. besides, alba and i have been talking about going out to see another play. we had so much fun the first time." despite how gentle you were being, alexia knew whenever she had been rejected. you were choosing to spend time with alba over her, which was a nice thought, but alexia hated it. she no longer wanted you and alba to be friends with each other now that it was taking up her time with you.
"i mean, you do whatever you want," alexia huffed. she crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her attention to her food. alba was quick to come in and distract you from alexia's little sulking session. she knew that you'd go back on your agreement to go to the play, even though you had been wanting to for months now, and alexia hated going to the theater with you.
"alright, you take good care of yourself, nena. don't let that one get you down too much, okay?" eli pulled you into a tight hug. you nodded, thanking her for inviting you to dinner before you went over to alba. alexia and her mother spent a little longer on their goodbyes, but you were sure it was just because eli's attention had been on you for a good portion of the night.
"bye albs, i'll see you for brunch?" you asked. alba pulled you into a hug as she shook her head.
"sleep in, cook for alexia, she needs you more than i do," alba said. the two of you looked at alexia, who looked very pensive. you were afraid that she thought dinner hadn't went well as she pulled you away from alba and towards the car. you weren't surprised when alexia just shoved her sister away as they muttered their goodbyes to each other.
"i had fun tonight. thank you for letting me come with you." you knew that you sounded nervous, but you couldn't help it. alexia pulled onto the road and kept her focus on it. the car ride home was silent, something that only made you feel worse. alexia didn't talk to you until the two of you were dressed in comfortable clothes and just sitting in the living room together.
"te amo," alexia said as she placed her hand on your thigh. you glanced over at her. alexia had an unreadable expression on her face, the same one that she always did whenever she was rewatching old games. "my family does too. mami would adopt you if she could, and alba really likes spending time with you. i didn't think that i could get that again, not so quickly."
"you're not mad about tonight?"
"i couldn't be mad about my family loving you. if anything, i am elated because it means that every feeling that i have about you is right. i could never love somebody who didn't get along with my family. i can't wait for the day whenever we get to bring little babies with us to my mami's for the weekend."
"babies?" you questioned. alexia nodded as she moved to sit on your lap. it was a rarity that alexia got like that with you, so you just sat back and accepted it. "how many exactly?"
"two, maybe three. three little putellas girls. one of them will have your eyes, and even if she smiles like me, they'll still light up like the sun when she does. the second, she'll just like me, stubborn and maybe a little too serious, but she'll love like you. she'll love so much like you that her heart will break, but we'll be there to pick up the pieces every single time until her sisters are old enough to help. the third one, she'll look like you, and i won't ever be able to tell her no." alexia had a dreamy look on her face as she told you about the little family that she had planned in her head. you had never thought of a family like that, but alexia was doing a good job of convincing you.
"you know, i'll have to have your last name first. unless you're going to carry," you told her. alexia hummed thoughtfully as she thought about it. if alexia carried, she'd have to retire, but you could still bounce back from a pregnancy.
"then tomorrow, we go ring shopping," alexia stated. you wanted to make a quip about her actually asking, but you already knew there as no use in her proposing. you had wanted to marry alexia for a couple of weeks now, but you didn't want to push her before she was ready. "maybe if mami and alba can make it, we can go to the courthouse."
"even if they can't, i'd still marry you." you leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek, unsurprised when alexia turned her head so that you caught her lips.
"if that's the case, then we'll go after breakfast tomorrow. i don't want to wait any longer than i have to in order to make you mine."
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month
Text
Holiday
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Jessie Fleming + Niamh Charles x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: A day at the pool
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Pernille relaxes back on the sunbed, eyes closed in content.
The sun beats down on her and she hums.
"Magda," She says warningly," You better not try to touch me with your wet hands." She opens an eye.
Magda stands in front of her, a guilty look on her face with a hand still outstretched. She's been spending most of her time this morning in the pool, still dripping wet and Pernille appreciates the way droplets of water run down her abs.
"Sorry?" Magda offers up and Pernille rolls her eyes.
"How are the kids?"
Magda spares a look behind her.
Niamh is floating around the pool on a blow-up boat, legs hanging out and feet dragging in the pool. Jessie's in the shallow end with you, playing with your water toys and laughing when you pour water over her.
"They're fine," Magda replies," Can I give you a hug now?"
"Are you still wet?"
"Yes."
"Then, no. Dry off or go back to the kids."
Magda huffs. "Are you sure I can't tempt you to get in the water?"
Pernille closes her eye again, shifting on the sunbed so she's a bit more comfortable. "You said you would look after the kids. I'm not moving."
"Fine."
Magda wades back into the water.
"Are you having fun, princesse?"
You shrug, a pout causing your bottom lip to jut outwards. You point towards the blow-up boat. "Niamh's ignoring us!"
Magda laughs. "Well, we can't have that. Leave it to me."
She swims out to the deeper end, where Niamh is floating away. Upon closer inspection, Niamh isn't ignoring you and Jessie on purpose. She's just fast asleep.
"Niamh," Magda says," Niamh!"
"Huh? Wha-?"
Niamh awakes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the sudden light from the sun.
"Come on," Magda cajoles," Up you get. Enough stealing my kid's things."
You're still not completely comfortable in the water yet but you're at that stage where you think it's embarrassing to where your armbands so the floating boat had been Magda and Pernille's compromise.
You weren't allowed in the deep end without your floaties but you didn't want to wear them so the boat was the only way you could get there.
"Five more minutes," Niamh complains.
Magda grins. "Five more seconds."
"Hey! That's so unfair and-"
Niamh doesn't get to finish because Magda tips the boat over and she goes crashing into the water. She surfaces a few moments later, spluttering and pushing her now wet hair out of her face.
You giggle hysterically from the shallow end and Jessie hides her own laughter, though not well enough because Niamh clearly takes offence to it and drags Jessie under the water to wrestle.
"Morsa!" You say, lifting your arms up," Boat, please!"
Magda laughs, plucking you into her arms and placing you in the boat. She pushes you around the deep end for a while as Niamh and Jessie wrestle.
You shriek when Niamh accidentally splashes you and you splash her back, sticking your tongue out at her when she looks at you in betrayal. You splash her again for good measure just as Jessie leaps on her back and dunks her under the water.
You grin in triumph before turning back to look at Morsa. You lift your arms up.
"Want to swim please."
"You'll have to go back to the shallow end," Magda warns you and you frown, puffing out your cheeks in outrage.
"No!" You whine," In the deep end!"
"Then you have to wear your armbands. Do you want me to get them?"
You huff. "No."
"Then no swimming in the deep end."
You think for a moment and Magda can see the cogs turning in your mind as you try to work out how to get what you want. You raise your arms again.
"Carry, please."
Magda sighs but picks you up anyway, treading water in the deep end so you still end up getting what you want. You smile at her triumphantly and Magda rolls her eyes.
You know just how to manipulate her into doing what you want.
It's kind of impressive.
You get tired though and your fingers get all pruney so Magda sets you on the ground again and watches you carefully as you make your way back to Pernille.
She grunts when you jump on top of her.
You're all wet and cold and Pernille jolts in shock at the sudden temperature change.
She opens her eyes and looks down at where you've settled your head on her chest.
"You're all wet," She laughs, pushing back your wet hair.
"Was in the pool," You reply, tilting your head up so you can look at her with a big, wide smile.
"I can see that. Did you get bored?"
You nod. "Tired."
Pernille reaches for her phone. "Well, it's nearly time for your afternoon nap."
You were originally resistant to a midday nap while on holiday, wanting nothing more than to just keep going, going, going and enjoy your time but Pernille had been insistent.
You would nap for an hour before lunch so you could have the energy to enjoy the rest of your day. You were happy with it now, especially when you realised that Pernille would sleep next to you in the Big Bed and Magda wouldn't complain at all.
You hum against Pernille's chest.
"Come on," She says," Let's get you all dried off so we can nap."
"What about Morsa and Niamh and Jessie?"
Pernille casts her eyes back towards the pool.
Jessie and Niamh have teamed up against Magda, currently trying to dunk her under the water and take custody of your blow-up boat again.
"They'll be fine."
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happypolicecherry · 2 months
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Alhaitham
Alhaitham is the type to think his s/o is overreacting while arguing with them. He's convinced that he's right and would just be humouring you by wasting his precious time on this useless banter.
He had already won before you could lay your case, so why do you keep insisting that he's wrong? Like, why are you overreacting by fussing over a small matter when Alhaitham had already voiced out his reasons? There's no way you're even slightly right.
Alhaitham already connected the points and drew them solved right to the finest detail. He'd just rest his back leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Stupid turquoise eyes staring directly at you, watching you as you lose your shit in front of him
One crucial point that Alhaitham always forget is, people, grow frustrated when having to explain their point repeatedly to a person who's often said; not up for a debate because they're right. Alhaitham is exactly that kind of person.
So you can only imagine the slight shift of surprise in his expression when he hear your voice crack. Although it was brief because you stopped talking as soon as it happened, it didn't go amiss with Alhaitham. He only began to feel something tug his heart when you looked away from his direction with your head tilted downward, and your fingers lightly touching your eyes.
For once, Alhaitham is taken aback, and his stance begins to waver. Tossing his pride aside, he fast-paced to where you are standing. Although not panic strikened, he dislike being the cause of your tears.
Diluc Ragnvindr
As for Diluc, he'd listen to what you have to say until it involves things he disagrees with such as mending with Kaeya, taking a week off from doing his darknight hero gigs and also letting you help him.
Don’t get him wrong, you are important to him. But some things that you want to happen just does not align or sit well with him, he just genuinely will never be able to find himself compromising for it, so he would rather be straight with you.
"I don't think that's for you to decide." He would start being sharp tongued when you keep pressing on matters he dislikes speaking of. A bad habit of his but he'll never admit it. He would try his best not to dismiss you completely and wants to ensure you, what you are feeling is important to him.
Tragically for Diluc, his main problem is the fact that he forgets he has to be vocal about it. And not just stood there while staring into your soul with his eyebrows furrowed, the idea of you not understanding his thoughts completely leaving his mind.
So, when your voice starts wavering from confident to doubtful, Diluc realised something was wrong. His body would automatically release all the tension he was holding in, his expression softened slightly as he discards his own ego and reaches out for your wrist. His warm hand fills you with comfort almost immediately as he gently pulls you closer to him.
He does not want to see you upset nor does he wants to lie to you, so he chooses to put this argument to rest because it will just disturb you further if you keep trying to change things that his mind is set on. We all know how stubborn Diluc can be once his goal is set. Fortunately, even fire can’t stay bright and roaring forever if you keep trying to extinguish it.
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cottonlemonade · 3 months
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Six And A Half Minutes
word count: 1608 || avg. reading time: 7 mins. (ironically)
pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader
genre: Smutty McSmutterson, teasing, nipple play, friends to lovers (?)
warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities
synopsis: you haven‘t had sex in a while and your best friend offers to help out
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“Don’t.“
“I wasn’t doing anything.“
“I know that look. Don’t call him.“
Rintarou had just stepped out of his bathroom back to the living room to find you staring at your phone, biting your nails in thought.
“I doubt he‘s even up, it‘s almost 2am.“
“Good, then put the phone away.“
“Ha, bit rich coming from you.“
He confiscated the device of temptation, ignoring the pout that followed.
“You’re getting this back when I know you’re gonna behave.“ He shook his head, flicking some access water from his hair into your face - like spraying a misbehaving puppy with a water bottle.
You turned back to the TV, sinking deeper into the collar of your PJs.
Exams were finally over and to celebrate you had planned a movie marathon with your best friend. Since the news predicted a nasty storm tonight you both decided you would spend the night on his couch.
“Why call the bastard anyways?“
You shrugged, not looking at him.
“Booty call? Christ, y/n, can‘t you just watch porn like the rest of us?“
“Eh, nothing‘s been doing it for me lately. I was so annoyed by the breakup and exhausted from studying that it‘s been well over a month since I-“, you stopped when you realized what you were saying.
He grinned. “You know, if you need it that badly, I‘ll step up.“
“Oh, you brave soul. I‘m good.“, you scoffed.
“You were just about to call a lying, cheating jerk and somehow my offer is ridiculous?“
“Don‘t take this the wrong way, but I don‘t wanna fuck my best friend and I highly doubt you want that either.“
Rintarou bit back a remark, then sighed and said, “We don‘t have to have sex to make you feel good, you know.“
“What are you gonna do? Stare me to orgasm?“
You finally managed to look at him - he didn’t seem to be joking.
“Nah, but I‘ve been told I‘m pretty good with my hands. And mouth.“
“What are you even saying right now? I don‘t want you anywhere near…“, you vaguely gestured to your lap.
“Alright then. Bet I can make you cum by just playing with your boobs.“
“Oh my god, you‘re serious.“
“Well yeah, thanks for noticing.”
You chewed your bottom lip in thought.
“What happens if you manage to make me cum?“, you asked in a small voice.
He shrugged. “Then you owe me one.“
The offer did sound exciting and you’d be lying if you said he had never crossed your mind during intimate moments you had with yourself. But this was insane! So many things could go wrong with this. What if things would turn weird afterwards and you‘d lose him as a friend?
“If it’s too weird like this we can set a timer or something.”, he suggested, as always reading your thoughts right off your face.
“Alright… how long… do you think you need? A minute?”
“One minute?! Are you kidding? I’m good, but not that good!”
You laughed nervously. “Fine. 3 minutes?”
“10.”
“10?! No! That’s too long.”
“Fine, 8.”
“How about 5?”
“7.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just keeping it realistic. 5 isn’t enough.”
“You can do it in 5.”, you said, trying to add a light encouraging tone as a joke.
He didn’t budge. “7.”
“Why 7?”
“Cause 7 minutes in heaven.”
He grinned again.
“I remember those seven minutes always being very long and awkward. 6.”
“7.”
“This is not how this compromising thing works!”
“Hey, you’re the one who wants to get off.”
“Fine…” you say, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks, “6 and a half.”
“For fuck sake. Fine six and a half. But don’t complain if you don’t cum.”
Your ears were ringing from his bluntness and you rubbed your legs together, trying to covertly get some friction.
He muted the TV and scooched closer, nodding towards your top.
You were pretty sure your whole face was bright red at this point.
“You gotta lift you’re shirt for me or take it off, whatever you prefer.“
The insecurities came flooding in. Sitting was not the sexiest pose you had to offer. Your belly fat rolled and bunched, then there were the stretchmarks clawing at your skin, plus you knew you had a terrible posture, making you sit like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath, slowly lifting the hem.
“Wait.“, he suddenly said and got up, hurrying out of the room.
Your shoulders sagged. Didn‘t take much for him to run for the hills. You wanted to bury your face in your hands but a few moments later he was already back, a tie in his hand.
“W-what are you doing?“, you stammered.
“Well, you looked super uncomfortable so I figured a blindfold might help. I don‘t have a proper one so I guess my old uniform tie has to do.“
That was… surprisingly thoughtful and sweet. You smiled and relaxed a bit.
With his help you used the red tie to cover your eyes. He made sure your hair wasn‘t caught anywhere and the knot wasn‘t too tight.
“Lay back.“, he said simply. You swallowed and slowly lowered yourself until your head touched the armrest.
“You comfortable now?“
You nodded.
“Alright.“
You heard him tapping on his phone. “Timer’s set, lift your shirt.“
Feeling a little more confident now, you did as he told you.
The complete darkness provided by the makeshift blindfold helped a lot and the cold breeze from his aircon brushed gently over your exposed skin.
If your nipples hadn‘t already been hard from the whole conversation before, they were now.
You heard him curse, then shift on the couch. You waited in your own private darkness. The only sound was the quiet whirring of the air con.
And then your bra was pulled down and his hands were on your breasts, caressing, just on the sides at first. A gasp dropped from your lips and you shivered, arching your back into the touch.
Rintarou‘s mouth was dry. He couldn‘t believe this was real. Your skin was so much softer than he had imagined. With calloused fingers he brushed over your flesh, just teasing at first, so very pleased when, with another shudder, goosebumps started to appear on your skin. Your nipples looked so fucking tempting but he wanted to build to it. Not like he had a lot of time, but he needed to savor this. When he finally cupped your breasts he had to bite his lips to stop a new stream of curses. Pillowy and inviting he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and fall asleep. Or push his painfully hard cock between them.
He was already two minutes down. Shit.
He loved how sensitive you were to every squeeze, every brush. You really hadn‘t had any release in weeks, huh. Fuck, he wanted you. He licked his lips and lowered his head. Holding your breasts in both hands he drew circles with the tip of his tongue around your nipples.
And you moaned. Sending lust filled surges straight to his cock. He felt the twitch in his sweats. He needed you to do that again.
He moved to the other nipple, making sure to flick the abandoned one with his finger. You started to squirm and he was rewarded with another moan.
More. More. He closed his lips around you, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the perfect little pebble in his mouth.
Oh, he was addicted to you. There was nothing else but you. He let your nipple go, only to set kisses to your skin and blow on your little pearls, wet from his saliva.
“Fuck, Rintarou…“
He was getting dizzy, his movements became needier and it took all of his remaining focus to not start rutting his stiff cock against your plush thighs.
Your whimpers and sighs were almost non-stop now and he just openly groaned with your perfect tits in his mouth now, the vibrations tickling your nipples.
Where had the time gone? When he glanced over at his phone, he only had a minute left.
He nibbled at your breasts, sucking deep red marks into the flesh. His hands, so careful and gentle at first, now became groping and he moaned loudly when his cock made accidental contact with your leg. He was not above humping you like a dog but he really needed you to cum first.
“Oh God, yes… Yes, nngh, Rintarou, fuck…“
Shit, were you close? He pinched your nipples, then let them plop out of his mouth before really latching on like his life depended on it.
Cum for me, he thought. Please.
You raised your hand and he almost came right there himself, when your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to you.
“Fuck, y/n, cum for me.“, he whispered against your skin, “You can do it. Cum for me, baby.“
And the timer went off.
Startled by the noise you shot up, removing the blindfold.
The brightness of the lights left you disoriented for a moment. Rintarou sat before you, out of breath, flushed, disheveled. You had never seen this kind of hunger in his eyes. You felt embarrassed, fixing your bra over your slick covered breasts and lowering the hem of your shirt.
You still felt him on your skin. Why did you stop him? Maybe he would have continued, if you hadn‘t. Shit, you were so close.
While trying to avoid his eyes, your gaze landed on his sweats and the rather sizable imprint of his cock pushing against the fabric.
He didn‘t hide it. He knew you saw it. And he was waiting for your next move.
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a/n: part 2
@nyctophilicroses - covertly slides over another Suna smut fic with chubby reader
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alientee · 3 months
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This is a 3 shot series inspired by the amazing writer @gyoongim. They did amazing with my ask and I’m in love with Alastor x Jessica rabbit .🤣
Fun fact It’s said that Jessica rabbit is also asexual!
Charlie felt defeated, she tried her hardest but there wasn’t shit she could do against that damn Adam or the council. Sera took pity on her stopping her for a moment “Charlie…… while you were not successful maybe we can come to a compromise?”
Charlie looked back up with her with hope in her eyes while Vaggie continues to glare.
“How about this we send an angel down with you, they spend a day in your hotel and we get to learn about all your progress. Maybe that will help sway the masses and myself.
Charlie instantly nodded thanking them over and over again. “So where’s the angle joining us”
“Emily has gotten her….. ah there they are”
Emily bounced forward happily introducing you
“Charlie this is y/n she’s one of the angels that actually believe In your cause!”
Sera looked down at you giving you a stern look.
“You’ll stay there for 1 day and then come right back y/n. Stay safe and good luck”
You walk into the portal with Charlie and Vaggie leading to the hotel. The demon princess didn’t stop talking about how she was going to give you a tour, show you everything they have to offer, even take you to the few nice places in hell. She started to ask you questions. She seemed really sweet and excited to get to know you. “Can I just say you look absolutely gorgeous, you’re like wow!”
You giggled. “Thank you hun I used to turn a lot of heads when I was alive. Too bad I only had eyes for one man.”
Charlie looked even more excited “ Oh my gosh tell me everything!”
You went on and on about your past, how you were a singer and a model, how you were married to a radio host. How you got married and ended up retiring to be a housewife. You stopped your story when you ended up in front of a hotel looking around shocked.
“So this is hell huh? Now tell me more about the hotel”
Charle links her arm with yours pushing the doors of the hotel open. “This is the hazbin hotel! Were we have 2 residents ready to rehabilitate and reform there life into good! It may not look like much but I garuntee you everyone here is dedicated to making there life better!”
Vaggie scoffed “not everyone”
“Okay almost everyone hehe” Charlie rubbed her neck nervously.
You look around and see the interior with a scary looking bar there were a couple of demons one looks like a spider the other a snake, two cyclops and the last one was…. a bird cat?
“Everyone this is y/n! She’s gonna be staying with us for the day to prove to heaven that demons can change!”
They all introduce themselves and the spider named angel comes up to you, looking you up and down. “ Beautiful and Busty they should’ve never sent you down here toots! Now you can give me a run for my money”
You laugh it off giving him a wink “I’m a tough lady I can handle myself. It’s nice to meet y’all”
Charlie gives you a tour of the hotel and you meet up with group once more “So what do you think y/n!”
“I think y’all have something really nice going on here”
“Thank you-“
“Charlotttttteeee~ why is there an angel in our premises didn’t I tell you the couldn’t be trusted”
You turned around at the sound at the static like voice.
“Y/N… is that you?”
Alastor still keeps his signature smile but his eyes are wide with confusion. He walks up to you pulling you into his chest. Alastor kisses both your cheeks putting his forhead against yours. “It’s me mon amor”
“Alastor!? Honey you look so different and your smile is even bigger than I remember”
“Well you know you’re not fully dressed without a smile. Y/n darling what are you doing here? Someone sweet as you doesn’t belong down here”.
You hold him close snuggling into his chest “oh Al it’s alright I’m just here to see the hotel on behalf of the council. I missed you so much ! What are you doing here honey ? I was so confused when I never met you in heaven what on earth got you down here?”
Alastor looks away sheepishly “Well about that-“
“UM EXCUSE ME!”
You both turn around to see everyone looking at you both in shock. After a long silence Charlie speaks up.
“So you two know eachother huh”
You looking at everyone shyly “You remember how I said I was married to a radio host”
Alastor smirked pulling his arm around your waist. “This gorgeous gal has had my heart since I first laid eyes on her” He kisses your forhead
None of them could believe it! You were Alastor’s wife?!
Vaggie moves forward while everyone else is looking at you in shock. “Hold on, wait a minute let me get this straight. You! A gorgeous, kind hearted, helpful angel…… are married to that thing?!”
Alastor squints his eyes his static going off “what are you trying to say Vaggatha”
Angel interrupts her before she could speak
“ it means she’s waaaayyyyy out of your league smiles. I mean Vaggies right, she’s hot and your….anyway, how and the hell did a dame like you end up with old freak face anyway?”
Alastor rolls his eyes “ I won her affections with my charm and manners. Something you clearly don’t have my feminine fellow”
Angel looks at him uninterested “yea I ain’t buying that. Toots why you with this stuck up prude?”
You hold alastor arm cuddling up to his side “He makes me laugh, how could I turn him down when he always put a smile on my face” you giggle softly
Everyone was still shocked by your answer none of them could really see someone like you with someone like alastor but decided to accept it (everyone accept Angel and Vaggie) Angel smirks
“Ok so I was right it definitely wasn’t for his looks”
“Well beauty isss in the eye of the beholder, I guesss he jussst got lucky”
Alastor rolls his eyes “Are you miscreants quite done”
“Now we always know why Mr fancy talk creepy voice is always smiling. Thinking about his busty wife gets him through the day haha”
“Angel dust if you wish to redeem your soul and make it into heaven I suggest you watch your mouth before I end your life.”
“Oh Al leave him be he’s just joking, now tell me why your down here”
Alastor sighs giving you his arm. You grab it not questioning it as he walks you both to the door. He doesn’t even look back at the others .
“I’m talking my wife for a walk we’ll be back shortly”
As the two of you walk out everyone stays silent until Angel speaks up. “I don’t care what any of you’s say, he was definitely not hitting that right”
As you both leave Alastor stays silent. You don’t rush him to talk, you never did. You two never fought when you were alive you always talked it out and took it one step at a time.
“You should know that I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t want to hurt you or scare you. You were the only good thing I had left after my mother. So I hope you can forgive me for keeping it from you.”
“Go on hon I’m listening”
“The bayou serial killer, that was me doll….i died getting shot in the head with a rifle, being mistaken for a deer while I was burying a body. And I may of…. ate a few people, but they were never in your food!”
You looked at him in shock but you never let go of his arms. “Oh my gosh….. that’s what you were doing out there, they never told me, just said it was a hunting accident….. I should’ve known! You would always go one these nature trips at night when ya barley had friends plus I shoulda known someone like you doesn’t like outdoor activities like that! How ya wouldn’t let me in your tool shed because it was to much “dangerous” stuff in there. How you’d come home from the radio tower early hours in the morning. I thought you were stepping out on me for a time but you still showed me all the same amount of affection so I pushed that thought out the window”
Alastor laughed a laugh track playing in the back ground “Oh daring why would I ever step out on the most beautiful woman in the world. I’d be a fool to have eyes for anyone but you”
He squeezed your hips pulling you into a hug “Do you regret marrying me, please tell the truth?”
“Oh Al of course not, even if you are a killer you were so sweet and gentle with me I’ve never felt safer than when I was with you. Your a wonderful husband I’ll never regret you honey ”
Alastor pulled you close his smile getting wider. “How about I make it up to you darling let me take you out on the town, it’s been a while and you deserve to be spoiled doll.”
“I’d love that Alastor”
You both walked down the street in silence with you both linked arm and arm as always. Until Alastor spoke up again”
“And by the way sweetheart Tu portes l'enfer hors de cette robe, j'ai raté ces courbes”
You blushed “Still a charmer I see”
Part 2 comming soon~
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cacoetheswriting · 4 months
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honesty: the music video
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!
celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.
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“We want it to be sexy.”
“But not too sexy.”
“Revealing.”
“But not too revealing.”
“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.
You stifle a giggle.
“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”
“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”
At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.
“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.
-
Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.
All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.
A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?
Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 
Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 
The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.
Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 
Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.
Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.
Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 
Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.
Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.
By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.
Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…
Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.
A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 
“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.
“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 
“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”
Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 
“I had fun today.”.
“Me too.”
There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 
Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 
“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.
Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 
His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.
The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”
“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.
He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.
“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.
In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”
You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 
“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.
Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 
“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”
You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.
“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”
“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.
Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 
Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 
“Where do you want me baby?”
“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”
“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 
Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 
“Please, Eddie.” 
Slap.
“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”
That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.
His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.
Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.
“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”
“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.
Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”
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celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference
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stellar-skyy · 17 days
Text
♡ - LOST & FOUND - Platonic Arlecchino & reader
i. SUMMARY: Hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them. ii. CWS & NOTES: description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words. iv. A/N: i am... so normal about parental arlecchino... so normal... i hope you enjoy because i loved writing this!! i have a little written for an epilogue featuring the lyntwins + freminet reuniting, so stay tuned for that ♡
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It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.
Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.
No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.
“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.
He always noticed.
“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.
“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”
“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”
“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.
“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”
“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”
It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.
Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.
“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.
She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”
“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”
“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.
“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.
Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.
As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.  
“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.
“Be quick.”
The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.
“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”
Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”
“No? Then why are you still here?”
He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare
“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.
Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”
It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”
Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.
“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”
“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.
“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”
“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.
“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”
“But—”
“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.
“Father—”
“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”
Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.
“I—”
“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”
Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.
“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.
“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”
-----
Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.
It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.
One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening—a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.
Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.
The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.
Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.
“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.
“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”
“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”
Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.
They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.
The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.
“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”
Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”
Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.
“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”
“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”
Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.
“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”
“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”
The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”
“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.
“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.
“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.
“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.
There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.
“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.
“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”
The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.
“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”
She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.
“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.
They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.
Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.
“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”
“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.
“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.
“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.
“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.
“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”
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reblogs are appreciated ♡
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hotchfiles · 2 months
Note
hotch "representing the bau" hotchner x activist!reader who won't stand for bullshit
not like actual conflict cause we know hotch is a very principled guy
more like
"shit i can't shitpost about overthrowing the government anymore cause my boyfriend is the government" vibes
you have no idea how deeply i feel about this i've actually posted about this because i'm very much against all cops and he's a literal fed ! but
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you met in the most conventional of ways, which makes the whole thing even funnier to the outside person. a bar. you noticed him the moment he walked in, too downright gorgeous to be ignored, you stare at him completely shamelessly and get a few shy awkward smiles in return while he sips on his first drinks and talks to his companion, who you later learned was rossi.
he will find it later on that you're not really up for games, but it takes him by surprise when you approach him, card in hand with your phone number and the red stain of your red lips on the other side. he's immediately smitten, being flirted with so openly at his age does wonders for his ego and he makes sure to text you as soon as he gets back to his apartment.
the texting back and forth goes for hours, a lot of flirting, you're much more outspoken than he is, but still you find him hilarious, you will be telling your friends he's the funny one between you two (none of them will believe you, but you like having this only to yourself as well).
you talk movies, plays, music, favorite drinks and by 2am he asks you on a date. it's perfect from the get go. he's flattering, compliments your choice of clothes, says he likes the lipstick (the same you used on the card he is keeping safe on his wallet), takes you to a nice restaurant.
you tell him since you made the very first move, he would have to be the one to kiss you, he argues he sent you the first text so you should be the one to do it, in the end none of you know who took the first move, you're just sure you were the one to unlock your apartment door, stumbling along with him as you two passionately kissed.
it's not common for this to happen for him, he's too much of a gentleman, sleeping with someone on the first date isn't the gentlemanly thing to do, you're not attached to those norms so even if he tried to argue, your lips glued to his neck as you worked on his belt took his mind off of it.
it's not until the next morning that he really notices your place: the types of books you had, some revolutionary art pieces and it's then he realizes he has no idea what you do for a living. neither did he tell you he was a fbi agent. you two talked long hours and career wasn't even a topic (that may be why you caught his heart so fast).
you were a journalist, a writer, quite proficient and known for your progressive ideals and less than civil protests, so when you both realize the differences and the conflict it might bring, the first instinct was to pull away. forget the whole thing. it was only one date after all.
it's a matter of days for the realization that being apart won't happen, your thoughts are filled with him and his voice and the way he touched you and aaron can possibly detail every curve of your body and the way you smelled as if he was still in bed with you.
there's a mutual agreement of public discretion, you can't have your readers knowing you're falling for a fed, nor does the media needs any more reasons to write about the fbi.
his team knows though, and so does strauss, she had to be warned of the possibility of your name popping up in some lists. she reads half of your writings after that, highlighting stuff you should not be writing about (you won't listen to her on it) and the compromise you make is to keep all of your opposition material completely professional, no tweets, no tiktoks, nothing of the sort with jokes about overthrowing the government.
"did you... did you just cite and use one of stalin's books as resource here?" he asks, he's in your bed, blue boxer shorts and white t-shirt on, completely comfortable with you already, his reading glasses sit on top of nose like an old man and he furrows his brows, looking up at you. aaron's interested in what you write, he truly reads whatever you hand him just to learn more about you, he's not the one to try to censure any of it.
"well yeah... his writings are the easiest to comprehend on the topic." you shrug, not understanding the tone of his question at first.
"honey... you can't just... do you know how many... forget it. your editor will love it." his poor attempts to talk you down failing each time he looked over and saw your expectant eyes as his opinion is important to you. you smile at his defeat, taking the papers from his hand and throwing somewhere else in the room, his glasses go to the bedside table and soon you're kissing any of his worries away.
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Text
Demon-haunted computers are back, baby
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Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.
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As a science fiction writer, I am professionally irritated by a lot of sf movies. Not only do those writers get paid a lot more than I do, they insist on including things like "self-destruct" buttons on the bridges of their starships.
Look, I get it. When the evil empire is closing in on your flagship with its secret transdimensional technology, it's important that you keep those secrets out of the emperor's hand. An irrevocable self-destruct switch there on the bridge gets the job done! (It has to be irrevocable, otherwise the baddies'll just swarm the bridge and toggle it off).
But c'mon. If there's a facility built into your spaceship that causes it to explode no matter what the people on the bridge do, that is also a pretty big security risk! What if the bad guy figures out how to hijack the measure that – by design – the people who depend on the spaceship as a matter of life and death can't detect or override?
I mean, sure, you can try to simplify that self-destruct system to make it easier to audit and assure yourself that it doesn't have any bugs in it, but remember Schneier's Law: anyone can design a security system that works so well that they themselves can't think of a flaw in it. That doesn't mean you've made a security system that works – only that you've made a security system that works on people stupider than you.
I know it's weird to be worried about realism in movies that pretend we will ever find a practical means to visit other star systems and shuttle back and forth between them (which we are very, very unlikely to do):
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead
But this kind of foolishness galls me. It galls me even more when it happens in the real world of technology design, which is why I've spent the past quarter-century being very cross about Digital Rights Management in general, and trusted computing in particular.
It all starts in 2002, when a team from Microsoft visited our offices at EFF to tell us about this new thing they'd dreamed up called "trusted computing":
https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/05/trusting-trust/#thompsons-devil
The big idea was to stick a second computer inside your computer, a very secure little co-processor, that you couldn't access directly, let alone reprogram or interfere with. As far as this "trusted platform module" was concerned, you were the enemy. The "trust" in trusted computing was about other people being able to trust your computer, even if they didn't trust you.
So that little TPM would do all kinds of cute tricks. It could observe and produce a cryptographically signed manifest of the entire boot-chain of your computer, which was meant to be an unforgeable certificate attesting to which kind of computer you were running and what software you were running on it. That meant that programs on other computers could decide whether to talk to your computer based on whether they agreed with your choices about which code to run.
This process, called "remote attestation," is generally billed as a way to identify and block computers that have been compromised by malware, or to identify gamers who are running cheats and refuse to play with them. But inevitably it turns into a way to refuse service to computers that have privacy blockers turned on, or are running stream-ripping software, or whose owners are blocking ads:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai
After all, a system that treats the device's owner as an adversary is a natural ally for the owner's other, human adversaries. The rubric for treating the owner as an adversary focuses on the way that users can be fooled by bad people with bad programs. If your computer gets taken over by malicious software, that malware might intercept queries from your antivirus program and send it false data that lulls it into thinking your computer is fine, even as your private data is being plundered and your system is being used to launch malware attacks on others.
These separate, non-user-accessible, non-updateable secure systems serve a nubs of certainty, a remote fortress that observes and faithfully reports on the interior workings of your computer. This separate system can't be user-modifiable or field-updateable, because then malicious software could impersonate the user and disable the security chip.
It's true that compromised computers are a real and terrifying problem. Your computer is privy to your most intimate secrets and an attacker who can turn it against you can harm you in untold ways. But the widespread redesign of out computers to treat us as their enemies gives rise to a range of completely predictable and – I would argue – even worse harms. Building computers that treat their owners as untrusted parties is a system that works well, but fails badly.
First of all, there are the ways that trusted computing is designed to hurt you. The most reliable way to enshittify something is to supply it over a computer that runs programs you can't alter, and that rats you out to third parties if you run counter-programs that disenshittify the service you're using. That's how we get inkjet printers that refuse to use perfectly good third-party ink and cars that refuse to accept perfectly good engine repairs if they are performed by third-party mechanics:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
It's how we get cursed devices and appliances, from the juicer that won't squeeze third-party juice to the insulin pump that won't connect to a third-party continuous glucose monitor:
https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/
But trusted computing doesn't just create an opaque veil between your computer and the programs you use to inspect and control it. Trusted computing creates a no-go zone where programs can change their behavior based on whether they think they're being observed.
The most prominent example of this is Dieselgate, where auto manufacturers murdered hundreds of people by gimmicking their cars to emit illegal amount of NOX. Key to Dieselgate was a program that sought to determine whether it was being observed by regulators (it checked for the telltale signs of the standard test-suite) and changed its behavior to color within the lines.
Software that is seeking to harm the owner of the device that's running it must be able to detect when it is being run inside a simulation, a test-suite, a virtual machine, or any other hallucinatory virtual world. Just as Descartes couldn't know whether anything was real until he assured himself that he could trust his senses, malware is always questing to discover whether it is running in the real universe, or in a simulation created by a wicked god:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/28/descartes-was-an-optimist/#uh-oh
That's why mobile malware uses clever gambits like periodically checking for readings from your device's accelerometer, on the theory that a virtual mobile phone running on a security researcher's test bench won't have the fidelity to generate plausible jiggles to match the real data that comes from a phone in your pocket:
https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2019/01/google-play-malware-used-phones-motion-sensors-to-conceal-itself/
Sometimes this backfires in absolutely delightful ways. When the Wannacry ransomware was holding the world hostage, the security researcher Marcus Hutchins noticed that its code made reference to a very weird website: iuqerfsodp9ifjaposdfjhgosurijfaewrwergwea.com. Hutchins stood up a website at that address and every Wannacry-infection in the world went instantly dormant:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#the-matrix
It turns out that Wannacry's authors were using that ferkakte URL the same way that mobile malware authors were using accelerometer readings – to fulfill Descartes' imperative to distinguish the Matrix from reality. The malware authors knew that security researchers often ran malicious code inside sandboxes that answered every network query with fake data in hopes of eliciting responses that could be analyzed for weaknesses. So the Wannacry worm would periodically poll this nonexistent website and, if it got an answer, it would assume that it was being monitored by a security researcher and it would retreat to an encrypted blob, ceasing to operate lest it give intelligence to the enemy. When Hutchins put a webserver up at iuqerfsodp9ifjaposdfjhgosurijfaewrwergwea.com, every Wannacry instance in the world was instantly convinced that it was running on an enemy's simulator and withdrew into sulky hibernation.
The arms race to distinguish simulation from reality is critical and the stakes only get higher by the day. Malware abounds, even as our devices grow more intimately woven through our lives. We put our bodies into computers – cars, buildings – and computers inside our bodies. We absolutely want our computers to be able to faithfully convey what's going on inside them.
But we keep running as hard as we can in the opposite direction, leaning harder into secure computing models built on subsystems in our computers that treat us as the threat. Take UEFI, the ubiquitous security system that observes your computer's boot process, halting it if it sees something it doesn't approve of. On the one hand, this has made installing GNU/Linux and other alternative OSes vastly harder across a wide variety of devices. This means that when a vendor end-of-lifes a gadget, no one can make an alternative OS for it, so off the landfill it goes.
It doesn't help that UEFI – and other trusted computing modules – are covered by Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), which makes it a felony to publish information that can bypass or weaken the system. The threat of a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine means that UEFI and other trusted computing systems are understudied, leaving them festering with longstanding bugs:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#que-viva
Here's where it gets really bad. If an attacker can get inside UEFI, they can run malicious software that – by design – no program running on our computers can detect or block. That badware is running in "Ring -1" – a zone of privilege that overrides the operating system itself.
Here's the bad news: UEFI malware has already been detected in the wild:
https://securelist.com/cosmicstrand-uefi-firmware-rootkit/106973/
And here's the worst news: researchers have just identified another exploitable UEFI bug, dubbed Pixiefail:
https://blog.quarkslab.com/pixiefail-nine-vulnerabilities-in-tianocores-edk-ii-ipv6-network-stack.html
Writing in Ars Technica, Dan Goodin breaks down Pixiefail, describing how anyone on the same LAN as a vulnerable computer can infect its firmware:
https://arstechnica.com/security/2024/01/new-uefi-vulnerabilities-send-firmware-devs-across-an-entire-ecosystem-scrambling/
That vulnerability extends to computers in a data-center where the attacker has a cloud computing instance. PXE – the system that Pixiefail attacks – isn't widely used in home or office environments, but it's very common in data-centers.
Again, once a computer is exploited with Pixiefail, software running on that computer can't detect or delete the Pixiefail code. When the compromised computer is queried by the operating system, Pixiefail undetectably lies to the OS. "Hey, OS, does this drive have a file called 'pixiefail?'" "Nope." "Hey, OS, are you running a process called 'pixiefail?'" "Nope."
This is a self-destruct switch that's been compromised by the enemy, and which no one on the bridge can de-activate – by design. It's not the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last.
There are models for helping your computer bust out of the Matrix. Back in 2016, Edward Snowden and bunnie Huang prototyped and published source code and schematics for an "introspection engine":
https://assets.pubpub.org/aacpjrja/AgainstTheLaw-CounteringLawfulAbusesofDigitalSurveillance.pdf
This is a single-board computer that lives in an ultraslim shim that you slide between your iPhone's mainboard and its case, leaving a ribbon cable poking out of the SIM slot. This connects to a case that has its own OLED display. The board has leads that physically contact each of the network interfaces on the phone, conveying any data they transit to the screen so that you can observe the data your phone is sending without having to trust your phone.
(I liked this gadget so much that I included it as a major plot point in my 2020 novel Attack Surface, the third book in the Little Brother series):
https://craphound.com/attacksurface/
We don't have to cede control over our devices in order to secure them. Indeed, we can't ever secure them unless we can control them. Self-destruct switches don't belong on the bridge of your spaceship, and trusted computing modules don't belong in your devices.
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I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/17/descartes-delenda-est/#self-destruct-sequence-initiated
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Image: Mike (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/stillwellmike/15676883261/
CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/
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