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#i don't see a positive and i feel like its all my fault
blye-flower · 10 months
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mrfoox · 2 years
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Just remembered how after my autistic diagnose every offical person was so careful to approach me about it at first. I know that's probably standard bc not everyone will like those news or know how to handle it but I legit just had doctors go 'hey... So... Are you okay? How do you feel?' and I was like 'haha, nice, so I haven't just been faking/now I know why I'm so different'
#miranda talking shit#And i mean... I wouldnt be diagnosed at all if i didnt personally call for it. I wouldn't have been able to see anyone unless i brought it#Up. Bc ive always been good at masking no one even considerd i was on the spectrum. And it wasnt until i got friends who was diagnosed and#Discussed it with me and their experiences + me reading up on it myself ... Where i was like wait uh ... Actually lol that's me haha#But i know plenty of people probably don't like to get the diagnosis. For me personally it was 90% a gopd thing#It felt a lot like... Ive always known i was 'diffrent' and ive always felt something was so wrong with me bc i didny work like other peope#And then it was like .... No im different but this is the thing that makes me different and its not something 'wrong' with me#For me it felt very freeing to get i guess a label or name on why im different. Before iy was all just... On me?#Like it was my own fault. Why couldnt i do this or just act normal why couldnt i just handle things others could? It all felt very. ...#Personal. Like it was my own fault ? Idk man. It was just great to get a reason to why i was diffrent and that it actually ... Made sense?#There were reasons behind why i got so overwhelmed or behaved weirdly etc yeah#My relationship with my own autism is the weirdest shit ever bc i dont personally think there's many positives with this diagnose#I can think of 10 cons per 1 pro basically but i also... Never had any bad feelings about getting it on paper that i have it?#I know my life would be much easier if i didnt have it. But i also know it cant be cured and is just part of me so#I have a fairly good or at least neatrul general feeling about it. Before i was diagnosed I'd cry and have breakdowns as to#Why i was so weird and why i couldnt be like everyone else. I got that on an weekly basis. After my diagnose? Very rarely.#I guess thats why im so... Supporting and maybe pushing others who think they are on the spectrum to check it out#Many will think oh but it doesnt DO anything. It doesnt change anything. It doesnt help to get it on paper ya know ?#And well yeah i guess technically that's true but man idk. If you have ever felt alienated like ive been my entire childhood and teen years#Getting the diagnose was so nice. And i got to learn about myself in much different ways than before. And understand that i am in fact not#Alone and not so misunderstood by everyone on earth lol.#@anyone who think they might be autistic give me an message and lets talk tbh if you want and need someone to discuss that with#Autism tag
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reunion
Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever.
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: Slow burn; unrequited love; angst; yearning; divorced Art Donaldson; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; safe sex
Summary: It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.
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"Did you hear Art Donaldson is supposed to be here?"
The question is whispered behind you and makes your hand freeze in its signing. You're half-bent over the table at reception, fingers tight around a pen as your mind is jogged.
No way was he turning up, that's what Anne had said.
Tashi will be there, she's the head of the goddamn reunion committee, the ink is still wet on their divorce—that's what Anne had said. Hell, she'd sworn it.
So what the hell is he doing here?
The sound of your name jogs your attention and you manage to finish signing in. You straighten, taking up your name tag and haphazardly slapping the adhesive onto your top. You need a drink, and quickly. You're halfway to the bar before you feel someone wind their arm through yours.
"Okay, I know you didn't wanna come—"
"Anne."
"And I so appreciate you being here so that I didn't have to come alone—"
"Anne—"
"But I got some news and it's going to be a little shocking so I think you should hear it from me—"
"I know he's here."
"What?" Anne freezes, her arm dropping from yours. You turn to see her looking stricken, her cheeks pinking with panic and embarrassment. You sigh softly, glancing around your fellow alumni. Less than half of them look familiar; your eyes catch on the odd face before you realize that you're inadvertently looking for him.
"Look, there are, like...Five hundred people here, alright?" You add. "I probably won't even see him."
"We can go."
"Look, we made the trip, we're here, we may as well stay. It's fine, okay? We're all adults here! It doesn't matter!" Your insistence is chased by a slightly hysterical laugh. "It was, like, a hundred years ago."
"...You're sure?"
"I am positive."
Positive that you need a drink, and positive that you're going to regret agreeing to stay.
--
It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.
You were friends, sure. You palled around, had a few classes together, hung out at a few parties—but he was so in love with Tashi Duncan that you'd never made his romantic radar. You'd forced yourself to believe that that was for the best, that you didn't need his love or romantic validation to be happy. But you couldn't pretend that wanting him didn't sting.
He'd had a couple of girlfriends while you were at Stanford, but you could always feel, always see that they were never really his priority. It was Tashi, then tennis, then them.
The two of you had kept touch a little after college, but you'd pushed yourself to move on. Conversation had begun to fade, and when he hadn't tried to keep it up, you had resolved to let him go.
You'd avoided his name in the news as much as you can, but it had been hard. He was on billboards, packaging, tv—it was like you couldn't escape him.
Want melted to sadness; sadness shifted to annoyance; annoyance hardened into disdain. You couldn't see his likeness or hear his name without rolling your eyes. It wasn't his fault, of course, but the prospect of running into Art fuckin' Donaldson made you queasy.
Still, you put on a brave face for Anne, forcing your focus into conversation.
It's a struggle to keep your gaze from seeking him out. You take each sip with a little white lie, convincing yourself that you're looking to make sure you can avoid contact. You spot Tashi a couple of times, but you don't go out of your way to say hello. She's surrounded by a cloud of people—taking pictures, signing programs and name tags and old Duncanator shirts.
When Anne insists on going to say hello, you force a small smile.
"You, um—you go ahead," You nod, taking a couple of steps back. "I'm gonna get some air."
Anne's dark eyes flit over you questioningly before she blessedly lets it go, nodding and going on her way. You turn, swiping a fresh drink off of a passing waiter's tray as you leave.
It takes a few moments for the buzz of conversation to clear from your head. You take a gulp of the prosecco, wrinkling your nose. It's a little sweeter than you usually like, and doesn't mingle well with the three other drinks that you've downed. Tashi's not going to find your lack of presence or greeting conspicuous; you'd been cordial and on speaking terms in college, but the two of you had never been close.
Damn, but it's chillier outside than you thought it would be. The reception had been so warm, so crammed with people. Paired your head being near-permanently on a swivel, you hadn't realize how hot and tense you'd been.
You frown at the waft of cigarette smoke that catches your nose. Who the hell is still smoking in this day and age—
"Are you hiding, too?"
Maybe you can feign that you didn't hear him—that the sound of his voice didn't jog a hundred memories and trigger a flurry of butterflies. But before you can stop yourself, you turn, the words, "I thought you quit smoking," tumbling out of your mouth.
Art's smile widens as he draw the cigarette back from his lips, a stream of smoke pushed out of the side of his mouth.
"I did. Quit quitting, though." He takes one more puff before he flicks it away, drifting closer. "Hi."
Hi, like it's not the first time you've seen him in the better part of a decade. Hi, like neither of you are oceans from where you where when you last saw one another.
"Hi," You manage. He doesn't hesitate to draw you into his arms; he seems to almost do it without thinking. You only allow yourself a moment of resistance before you raise and curl your arms around him. The clean scent of his pressed jacket and woodsy cologne are muddled with smoke. The fingers of one if your hands curls covetously in the fabric of his jacket as his palms smooth gently over your back. You hear him draw in a deep breath, feel him hold it, and then release it with a soft hum.
"How the hell are you?"
Probably better than you are these days.
You shrug a little, mumbling, "Fine."
He draws away, eyes skating across your face.
"You don't sound so sure about that."
"I'm sure."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
You can feel him winding up for another pass at it, but you hold your glass out before he can. His fingers brush against yours as he drains it.
"Why are you hiding?" You ask. He shrugs, nods toward the door.
"It's a lot in there. I forgot what these events are like."
"People wanna congratulate you. They're proud."
"Are you?"
"I am, but I'll hold off. Don't wanna crowd you."
Your attention is drawn from Art's smile as you hear someone clearing their throat over the speaker system inside:
"If we could have the reunion chairpersons to the stage, please!"
You glance toward Art and find him fidgeting, his thumb smoothing across his bare ring finger.
"…Do you wanna go back in?" You offer. He considers before he says, "Wait here."
You watch curiously as he darts inside, and are stunned when he reappears a moment later. You just barely catch a glimpse of the bottle of champagne clenched in his fist before he rests his other hand on your lower back, steering you away with an urgent murmur of, "C'mon."
--
"I'm surprised you came," You tell him. Art doesn't look at you for a moment, and you take the chance to lean back against the hard plastic seat. He's as beautiful as he was the last time the two of you were together, the night before graduation—practically in the same seats. You don't know if he was thinking about that when he'd led the way into the stands, chosen where to sit. Maybe it was pure muscle-memory.
Either way, you don't know how long the two of you have been sitting out there, knees bumping, passing the bottle back and forth. You take in his profile—the slope of his nose and cut of his jaw; the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows.
"My therapist said it would be good," He finally admits. "Told me I needed to get out more, start getting back into events, work at the foundation...What about you, huh?" He turns, brows raising. "You always told me that you hated this stuff."
You're surprised he remembers.
"I do hate this stuff, but," You shrug. "Anne didn't want to come alone."
"You're a good friend. I never forgot that." He sits up and passes the bottle back to you. "What happened to us, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did we stop talking?"
I couldn't keep begging for scraps of attention.
"I don't know," You deflect. "Guess we just lost touch. It happens."
"I shouldn't have let it happen to us."
You look down at the bottle, sweeping your finger across a slipping drop of condensation.
"You were busy."
"You weren't?"
"Not in the same way," You laugh self-consciously.
"What were you busy with then, huh?" He shifts, thigh pressing against yours. "You used to always say you'd uh—burn out by twenty-six."
"Yeah."
"Did you?"
"Oh, it didn't take nearly that long."
"What!" He laughs. "What the hell happened?"
"I don't know what to tell you, man. A girl can only take a soul-sucking marketing job for so long."
"So what do you do now?"
"Still in marketing, but I'm a manager, so. Still soul-sucking, but making a little more money."
"You like it?"
"God no, but I don't know what else I would do." You pass the bottle back.
"Could find something for you at the foundation."
You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head as Art sputters a laugh, asks, "What?"
"Don't do that, Art."
"Don't do what?"
"I don't need, you know—"
"We could use you—"
"You don't even know what I do at work."
"I bet it's great—"
"You don't even know if I'm a good worker—"
"Sure I do, I know you."
"No, you don't!"
You know it's a mistake the second it leaves your mouth. Art's smile wavers as he leans away again.
"I just mean—" You try.
"I know what you mean. It's been a long time."
"...Yeah, it has." You take the bottle back, drawing deeply from it before passing it back. "I should get going. I'm sure Anne's looking for me."
"Sure."
You don't say goodbye or tell him that it was nice to see him. You just make as hasty a retreat as you can without tripping over your feet.
--
@ a_donaldsonofficial requested to follow you. 3h
You're not sure what surprises you more—the follow request or the message in your DMs: Dinner?
--
His groan is sinful and low, and makes you rethink ever losing contact with the guy. Under the warm glow of the diner's lights, his eyes slip shut, fingers tightening around the bun.
"...When's the last time you had a burger?" You finally manage to ask.
"I can't remember." He admits it through the mouthful, and you don't begrudge him the couple of flecks of food that land on the table. You smile, plucking up a couple of fries.
"Art?"
"Mm."
"Why'd you ask me to dinner?"
Art sets the burger down as he swallows, taking off his napkin to clean off his hands.
"I was thinking...About what you said at the reunion."
"Mhm."
"About me not knowing you. You're right. But you know what?" He presses on before you can process your surprise. "I don't think you know me, either."
You think for a moment, brows furrowing. He's right. You know the image of Art Donaldson that's been projected to you over the years—on tv screens, in magazines, in online clips.
"...I don't think I do," You agree.
"Figured we should fix that. Catch up, fill each other in on what we've missed."
"Okay."
"So, after college..." He trails off, waving his hand. "Fill me in."
"Moved to New York."
"Uh-huh."
"Working in marketing."
"Burned out before 26—"
"Yeah, hit my capitalistic peak at 23."
"That fast?"
"I mean, that's the last time I remember giving a shit about work, so. Yeah."
"Relationships?"
"...A couple," You admit.
"Serious?"
"Yeah. One."
"Married?"
"No. Engaged." His eyes drop to your bare left hand, and you hurriedly tuck it into your lap. "Formerly engaged."
"What happened?"
"It just didn't feel right. I don't think either of us were ready."
"...Was it anyone I knew? I don't remember you dating much at school."
"Guess I didn't."
"You weren't shy."
"Well no, but—"
"So what was it?"
"I had the worst crush on you, dude!" It's another mistake, but where the last one seemed to make Art retreat, this one leaves his gobsmacked. His eyes widen, mouth opening in a wide smile.
"You what?"
"Oh, kay, you know what—"
"I had no idea!"
"I was very subtle."
Art leans back in the diner booth, watching you openly. You can see the gears turning in his head, and you wonder what he may be remembering, holding up and twisting about in this new light.
"...Huh," He mutters.
"You can feel free to forget that at any time."
"I don't think I will...I wish I'd known."
You consider for a moment before you shrug. "I don't know. I'm kinda glad that you didn't."
"Really?" His brows knit with confusion. "Why?"
"I don't like coming second, Art."
Art nods slowly, and you see something tight pass across his face before it's smoothed away again.
"You know what?" He smiles bitterly. "Neither do I."
You nod toward his plate.
"Your burger's getting cold."
--
"So, uh..." Art clears his throat as the two of you take slow, drifting steps to your car. "I'm gonna say two things, and I don't want you to think that they've got anything to do with what you said earlier."
You know exactly what he means, but you just grumble, "I said a lot of things earlier."
"I think we both know which one I'm talking about."
"Uh-huh. So what's up?"
"...I wanna see you again."
"Okay."
"But things are a little...Messy right now. Tashi and I are working on getting Lily into a regular rhythm and it's harder than we thought it would be."
You lean back against your car, tucking your hands into your pockets.
"Mhm...I hesitate to ask."
"Yeah."
"How does this have to do with what I said earlier?"
"I just don't want you to think that this is—"
"A consolation prize?"
"Something like that."
"Whatever you need to do to get in a good place with Lily is fine, Art, you don't need to justify that to me."
"Even if it means you come second?"
You tip your head to the side, pursing your lips. "It's different when it's your kid. I meant that I didn't want to be second to—You know."
"...Yeah," He mutters, looking at his feet as he takes another foot forward. "And for the record, I was thinking of asking you out again by the time we sat down."
"You could've changed your mind."
"I didn't. And I don't want to."
You smile, nodding. "Well I don't want you to, either." You straighten up as you fish into your bag for your keys. "Call me the next time you're in New York."
"Sure."
You reach out, cupping his cheek and leaning in, pecking his cheek. You pull away, smiling at the flush creeping across his face.
"Goodnight, Art."
"Night."
--
It isn't easy at first. Messages are far and few, mostly how are yous and how was your days. You think that as nice as the little swell of contact has been, that's all it'll be—but the two of you both start to really try. The odd text becomes the weekly phone call. Weekly phone calls become daily FaceTimes. On the nights when he has Lily, they're late, usually when you're getting ready for bed. On the nights when he's on his own, the two of you eat dinner together and chat over your calls. It isn't always perfect, but it's more than you could've anticipated from that dinner a couple of months ago.
--
"She down?"
"Yeah."
"Are you in a hotel again?"
"...Yeah." Art seems to admit it grudgingly, and you smile a little as you take up your toner and a cotton pad.
"There's nothing wrong with leaning into it if it's working," You argue. "And not to be that bitch, but you're not exactly broke."
"Might be if she keeps ordering room service and movies on-demand."
You laugh softly, turning your attention to your reflection as you swipe the toner across your face.
"How's your day been?" Art asks.
"Fine, standard. I had to fill out an assessment ahead of my annual review."
"When's that?"
"End of the week."
"How do you feel about it?"
"Mm," You shrug reaching for a serum. "Fine, I guess. I'm doing okay, my team's hitting their targets."
"You're doing better than okay."
"Art."
"You are."
"Well. Thank you for that." You glance over as he goes quiet, catching a glimpse of him as you smooth the serum into your skin. You raise your brows at the sight of his gentle, warm smile. "What is it?"
"You're beautiful."
Your face goes warm at the compliment, and you bite the inside of your cheek to tamp down your wide, idiotic smile.
"You are tired, huh," You deflect.
"I mean it."
"...I know," You murmur, reaching for your moisturizer. "Tell me what you got up to today."
"I had a meeting at the foundation. We're starting planning for the gala."
"Oh yeah? Have you done them before?"
"We've had three before, but I was usually playing or training, so I haven't been as involved in the planning."
"How's it been?"
"We're still in the preliminary stages, but it's been interesting, you know, seeing how the pieces come together before I usually see them."
You nod, picking the phone up from the mirror holder and heading into your bedroom.
"Where are you gonna have it?"
"We're still scouting locations...As a matter of fact," Art adds, "We're considering a few in New York."
"Oh?"
"I'll be down there for at least a few days, and I wanna see you."
You grin bashfully as you climb into bed, settling against your pillows.
"I wanna see you, too. Are you gonna, um—I mean, is Lily gonna be with you?"
"No, it'll be Tashi's weekend."
"Okay, cool. Just wanna make sure I don't mess up your time."
"I appreciate that." Art's tongue swipes across his lower lip, eyes sweeping across your face. "I gotta say..."
"Mmm?"
"I'm looking forward to seeing your apartment."
"Oh, really?" You chuckle. "Why's that?"
"It'll be interesting, that's all. I mean, you already take me to bed every night."
You laugh, covering your eyes as you groan, "Oh, god, shut up!" as Art chuckles.
"Let me know when you're free," You add. "Your schedule's gonna be weirder than mine."
"Yeah, I will, as soon as I know what it is." You watch as Art lays down, propping his phone up on the nightstand. "...Can you stay on?"
"Yeah," You soothe, setting your phone on the nightstand in suit. "Until we fall asleep."
"Okay," He murmurs. The two of you settle in on your sides, watching one another on the phone.
"Night, Art."
"Sweet dreams."
--
The restaurant is picked. Your nails are done, your hair is done; you get a new dress, new shoes, a new bag. You're going to have an amazing night—a good dinner, a great conversation, and, if you have any luck, an amazing good night kiss.
--
You know the minute you see him that you're not making it to the restaurant. Art's eyes sweep over you in covetous wonder when you open the door. He closes the gap between the two of you, drawing you into his arms, and this time you go without a second thought. He presses his face into your neck, letting out a gentle hum at the scent of your perfume. The tip of his nose trails up over your jaw, his lips brushing the corner of your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He sighs as you draw in a nervous breath, and he sways in, lips pressing to yours.
You raise your hand to cup his neck, shivering as his hands smooth over your hips. He guides you deeper inside, blindly reaching back and shoving the door shut behind you as you fling your purse toward the bench in your entryway. His kisses grow hungrier as he steers you down the hall. You slip your tongue along his, smoothing your hand up to grasp his hair. Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his pale, muscled chest to you. He slides down the zipper on the back of your dress and leans away just long enough to draw the dress up over your head. His eyes sweep across you, taking in your lingerie.
You hook your thumbs under the band of your underwear, giving them a teasing wiggle as you back further away from him. You expect him to follow, but he steers you back against the wall, dropping his head to suck hot kisses along your neck and down to your chest. He yanks one of the cups of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You bite your lip, tipping your head back against the wall and whining as he slots his knee between your thighs. You roll your hips down against the hard muscle as he laves and teases your nipple, reaching up to thumb and tweak the other.
"Art—Mm, god that feels so good."
He groans against your skin, trailing his kisses further down as he lowers himself to his knees. You look down as he curls his fingers around your panties—and waits. You smile softly, nodding, murmuring, "Please?"
Art grins, pressing a kiss to your hip before he gently eases the fabric down, waiting for you to lift your feet so he can fling them away. He leans in, swiping his tongue across your aching clit. Your knees would knock if he wasn't wedged between them. You draw in a shallow breath, letting your head tip back as he draws your leg over his shoulder. You shiver at the feeling of the chilly air against your heated, slick flesh. He nuzzles and laps against your cunt, taking each tip of your hips in stride. His hand smooths up your trembling inner thigh, giving your ass a gentle squeeze before he teases a finger into you. You whimper at the touch, unable to help the way your pussy clenches around it.
Art groans at the feeling, turning his head to smear his lips slips against your hip.
"Goddamn," He breaths against you.
"More."
You feel more than hear his gentle chuckle as he eases another finger in.
"Need it bad, huh?"
"You have no idea."
"I'm getting a pretty good idea." He turns his head, leveling a sucking kiss to your clit that makes you cry out. You tighten your grip on his hair as he pumps his fingers harder, curling and scissoring them as he pushes you closer to the edge.
"Art—Mm, god, fuck, yes—Yes—" Your toes curl in your shoes as your hips rabbit down against his face and fingers, chasing the swell of your orgasm. You look back down as he draws back and find his lips and chin shining with your juices.
"Bed," He urges.
"You can fuck me right here."
Art laughs, standing and smoothing his hand over your thigh.
"We're doing this right."
"We could be doing this right...." You slid your hand down his chest to palm his cock through his pants. "Here."
You grin as Art's eyelids flutter, his dick twitching against you.
"Bed," He insists again.
It isn't far to go, and the two of you are entirely bare by the time you get there. You scooch back onto the bed, spreading your legs as he rolls on a condom. He's over you a moment later, and you watch the bulge of his biceps as he braces his hands on either side of your head. You bite your lip as you feel the brush of his cock against your entrance. You reach down, grasping his cock and guiding him closer.
You tip your head up, tongue teasing the seam of his lips as he eases into you. You melt into the mattress as he crushes against you, filling you completely. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, sliding your legs over his, as if you'll manage to fuse the two of you together. Art's tongue swirls around yours before he captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips slowly.
"More," You plead, but Art keeps his pace achingly steady, even when you try to pick up the pace.
"You feel so fucking good," He breathes, "Even better than you taste."
"Harder, Art, please, god damn, please," You whimper. He tips his head to the side nipping at the hinge of your jaw as he reaches down, hiking your hip up even higher. Your mouth fell open with a stunned moan as he presses deeper, the slap of his hips filthily filling the stifling air around you. You arch up against him, nails raking down his back as you feel the swell of another orgasm.
"Art."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm—Fuck, almost—"
"That's it." He sucks his fingers between his lips before he slips them between your bodies, swiping across your tender clit. You begin to close your eyes, but he tuts softly.
"Don't—Don't close your eyes—Look at me," He orders between breaths. You force yourself to focus on Art, taking in the flush on his cheeks, his almost dazed eyes.
"You, too—" You urge.
"Yeah—"
"Oh—yeah," You gasp, unable to keep your gaze on his you cum. You feel Art's hips slap roughly against yours before he slows, groaning low in his chest. You draw in a deep breath as your heart pounds in your chest, sinking back against your pillows as he settles down over you. You smooth your hand over his nape, smiling as he nuzzles against your shoulder, dropping tender kisses to your skin.
"...Art?"
"Yeah?"
"I think we're going to be late for dinner."
--
"You know, I've been thinking."
"You've been doing a lot more than thinking, mister," You mutter, and grin as Art laughs. You cuddle closer against his side, nuzzling into his chest as he tightens his arm around your shoulders.
"I'm glad I didn't know you liked me in college."
"Really?" You tip your head up, brow furrowing. "Why's that?"
"...I wasn't ready for you back then." He smooths his fingers along your jaw, eyes wandering your face contemplatively. "It's like you said, you know. You would've come second."
You nod, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.
"I don't think I was ready for you, either," You admit. Art smiles.
"And you are now?"
"More than."
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inkskinned · 7 months
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no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.
too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.
2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?
but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.
as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.
which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.
the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.
so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.
and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.
but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.
people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".
but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.
but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.
a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.
i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.
and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.
it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.
#spilled ink#writeblr#warm up#like if im getting fatshamed. babe......... wake up#is there fat on my body? yes :)#btw this behavior wouldn't be okay even if I WAS overweight!!! that is my point!!!#it is both that people have no idea what weight is supposed to look like#and even if they DID... they do not seem to understand that PEOPLE ARE NOT DOLLS#YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL THEM HOW TO EXIST#if you respond anything akin to ''but raquel there IS an obesity epidemic''#you're blocked and reported.#go fucking DONATE TO A FOOD BANK THEN. volunteer in a food desert. start a free fitness program#GO GET A DEGREE AS A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL AND PRACTICE IN NUTRITION IN UNDERPRIVILEDGED LOCATIONS#FIGURE OUT HOW TO LOWER FOOD COSTS. FIGURE OUT HOW TO NORMALIZE AND STANDARDIZE#ACCESS TO FARM-FRESH FOOD. PROVIDE ACTUAL FREE ACCESS TO OUTSIDE ACTIVITIES#FIGURE OUT HOW TO TEACH PEOPLE HEALTHY CHOICE MAKING WHILE ALSO LOWERING THE COST OF MEALS.#THE AVERAGE GROCERY BILL OF THE AMERICAN CITIZEN HAS QUADRUPILED IN THE LAST YEAR.#SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!!!!!!!!!#you don't want to help these people!!!!!#you want to bully them but still feel like a good person!#you want to be justified in your hatred of an entire CLASS of people!!!#you don't give a fuck about how it makes them feel!!!!#you care ONLY about whether or not YOU get to VIRTUE SIGNAL that YOURE so thin and pretty!!!!#it is BECAUSE of people like you#and the fact you tolerate fatphobia - BECAUSE of that normalization. that men like the one who called me fat#feel like they can get away with it.#bc there's a line for you where you WOULD be okay with it. where if i WASNT thin you'd be okay with it.#which means the line can always be pushed in a certain direction. and it's always going to appeal to male aesthetics.#''well you didn't deserve it'' maybe fucking NOBODY does babe. maybe we should just all agree not to comment on ppls bodies!!
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lyvhie · 2 months
Note
hi requesting a jeno x reader where jeno is so strong compared to reader and he gets turned on by that and it results in him manhandling reader -🦋
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boyfriend!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: had a bad day? don't worry, he'll make it better.
a/n: so, FIRSTLY, i actually didn't understand the concept of manhandling in a sexual situation, but i tried my best after doing some research, i'm sorry if that's not what you wanted 🥺 i can try another one if you don't like it!
cw: smut, pwp, unprotected penetrative sex, petname.
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jeno wasn't sure when exactly he started to feel this way, but whatever it was that drove him crazy and made him feel so intensely was all your fault.
you were tiny, small, delicate—so much that he couldn't help but want to... break you. he knew he was stronger and bigger than you, and he couldn't help but feel the desire to exert that strength over you. it wasn't in a bad way, of course, but at first he was hesitant about that, like, what if you actually broke?!
however, you weren't quite so naive either. you had noticed his subtle glances at your neck, the certain intent in his gaze suggesting he wanted to wrap his hands around it as soon as he could.
and you were partly to blame; for example, you had toyed with him by squeezing his bicep or wrapping his arm around your neck in a side hug, all small, innocent actions that seemed purposely designed to provoke him further.
and then you gave him the chance to fulfill his desires. first, it started with just restricting your movements, like pinning your hands above your head with just one hand while the other held your waist to keep you in place as he was too busy burying his cock inside you.
then, it became him wrapping his hand around your neck, just light squeezes that were already making him thril inside, seeking for more, and you were more than happy to submit yourself to it.
he enjoyed seeing you helpless under him, and that's why, after a seemingly harmless discussion about "how was your day," you ended up bent over the kitchen counter. his hand pushed your face down against the cool surface—a small hint of dominance and control that leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
the skirt of your dress was lifted until he had a nice view of your ass. your panties draped around your ankles as he thrusts into you from behind. the wet sound of his cock sliding through your slick folds was all you could hear, besides your loud moans, of course. “y-you should see yourself right now,” he said hoarsely, “all dumb because of my cock. does it feel good, huh?” he leans over you to lightly bite your shoulder, not really getting an answer from you.
feeling you body respond positively, jeno slides his hand around your neck and applies just enough pressure to make you gasp. he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he says, "is this what you wanted? to be completely at my mercy?" not able speak, you nod frantically, your pants turning into whimpers. he squeezes tighter, controlling your air flow carefully as he continues to pound into you, each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult for you to breathe properly.
he groans when he feels your walls clenching around him, indicating that you were close, "let go, baby," he encourages hoarsely, his teeth grazing your earlobe and quickens his pace, his hips slamming into yours. he feels his own release building up, his muscles tensing with anticipation. he releases your hands and grabs onto your waist instead, pulling you back into him as he thrusts even harder.
your hands were holding the edge of the counter as you try to hold on, your body shaking from the intensity. jeno's finds its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles as he continues to choke you. seeing you like this drives him wild, knowing he's the one making you feel so good. "come for me, baby" he murmurs huskily, increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your whole body convulsing as you cry out out his name. he follows shortly after, emptying himself inside you with a final grunt.
you stay like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breaths before jeno slowly removes his hand from your neck and pulls out of you, his seed dripping down your thighs. “wow, that was… wow,” you said still panting, making him chuckle and spins you around to face him, catching you when your legs buckle slightly. “are you good?” he asks softly, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks. “yeah, i think i'll always tell you that my day was terrible if that's your way of comforting me.”
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xamag-draws · 1 month
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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arminsumi · 9 months
Text
it's the hair.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying
SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.
WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??
WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.
"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"
"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.
he squints skeptically at you.
from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?
and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.
"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."
his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"
"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"
suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.
"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"
"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."
satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.
holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...
he texts you.
satoru — are u home yet
he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.
you — no why
satoru — where are u
you — bridge
satoru — what are u doing
you — lol so many questions
you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics
satoru — wtf without me??
you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset
satoru — see u there
he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.
when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.
"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"
he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.
"are you sick?" he asks.
"what? no?"
"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.
"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."
"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."
"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.
the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.
"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."
you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.
he catches you looking at him, "what!"
"what?"
"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"
"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.
"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"
"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.
"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."
you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."
"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."
you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"
"is it the haircut!"
"it's the haircut."
"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."
"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."
"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"
you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"
he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.
"oh."
"you're so dumb, satoru."
"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.
now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.
it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.
"so you like it?"
"i love it."
"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.
"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.
"fluff my hair." he says.
"no way, lice-boy."
"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."
he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.
and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.
"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.
he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.
you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.
"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.
"i'm sorry."
he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.
then he breaks it.
"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.
"you're a menace." you tell him.
"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.
"of course i do."
"good, good."
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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emeraldelysian · 5 months
Text
Choi San ✧ The Jealousy Game
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Pairing: Choi San x Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut
Synopsis: "The Jealousy Game." A game in which you and your boyfriend Choi San flirt with other people to see who will break first. However, when San missteps on a day when you just want his love and attention, he realizes that he has to find a way to make it up to you.
Wordcount: 1.8K
Warnings: Reader has F. Anatomy; Make-Up Sex, Wall Sex, Kitchen Sex, Oral (F. Receiving); Stand and Carry Position; Kind of exhibitionist?; Protected (Wrap it before you tap it)
Note: Hi loves, long time no see!! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write that much this year, it's been a lot of ups and downs. But I wanted to get one more story out at least before the end of the year. I hope you all enjoy!!
♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎
MDNI, 18+ CONTENT
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You and Choi San had a peculiar way of finding amusement. Whenever you both attended parties, you would engage in a wild game of jealousy, each one flirting with other people, determined to see who would break first. It was a wicked dance of passion and insecurity, the push and pull of emotions that heightened the intensity of your connection.
But on this particular day, a cloud of vulnerability loomed over you, casting a shadow on your usually confident demeanor.
The sun set, casting a warm golden glow over the garden where the party was held. The air smelled of blooming roses and anticipation, mingling with the lively chatter and tinkling glasses. As always, Choi San's eyes danced mischievously, a glint of excitement lighting them up. You shared a knowing smile, acknowledging the game that was about to commence.
To an outsider, it may have seemed as though you both walked through the crowd with poise and charm, effortlessly captivated by your temporary flings. Yet beneath your facade of indifference, a subtle undercurrent of worry gnawed away at your heart. Doubt seeped into your thoughts, staining them with unease.
'Why does San seem so distant today? Is it my fault?' Questions like these peppered your mind, leaving you feeling untethered in a sea of people.
The music began, its rhythmic pulse guiding the fluid movements of the crowd. Your gaze locked with San's, feeling an electric pull that only the two of you could understand. A woman with flowing auburn hair approached, her smile captivating him instantly. You observed with a clenched chest as she whispered something in San's ear, her laughter filling the air like a sweet melody. They moved together, their bodies in tune with the vibrant melody that filled the atmosphere.
Watching San dance with the woman sent a surge of unfamiliar emotions coursing through your veins. Jealousy clawed at your chest, its tendrils wrapping around your heart, squeezing with a relentless grasp. Doubt echoed in your mind, causing you to question your own self-worth. The laughter that had once brightened your eyes dimmed, replaced by a flicker of insecurity. You desperately craved his love and attention, yet it felt as though the world around you had receded, leaving you stranded upon an island of your own apprehension.
Eventually, the song came to an end, and San and the woman parted ways. You couldn't help but feel hurt by his behavior, and rather than taking a step back from the noise. He turned towards you just as you turned away. His stormy eyes betrayed a hint of remorse as he watched you walk away from the party, into the house.
Feeling a mix of emotions, you went inside the house to seek solace. As you closed the door behind you, you desperately tried to stop yourself from overthinking as you grabbed yourself a glass of water, but the thoughts continued to swirl around in your head. The hurt from San's behavior pierced deep, and you couldn't help but question where things went wrong. The sound of the party outside seemed distant now, but it wasn't enough to break you away from the incessant thoughts that plagued your mind. Just as you were drowning in a sea of self-doubt, a gentle knock at the door startled you.
It was San. He softly gazed at your lost expression, closing the door behind him as he entered the house.
As he reached out to touch your trembling hand, his voice was a tender caress against your ear, "I'm sorry, love. I've taken the game too far today. I didn't realize how much I hurt you, how vulnerable you've been feeling."
Tentatively, you met his gaze, seeing the genuine concern etched in each of his features. In that moment, the walls you had carefully constructed to protect yourself began to crumble. "I just needed you, San," you whispered, your voice threaded with aching vulnerability.
His arms wrapped around your trembling frame, pulling you into an embrace where all the pain and insecurity dissolved. He tenderly kissed you. With each gentle touch held his vow to mend the wounds he had unintentionally inflicted upon your heart. In that embrace, you realized that love is not a game to be played, but a tender dance where trust and understanding are the true partners.
"Please let me make it up to you," he whispered softly as he pulled away.
Your gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes before you nodded and kissed him again, soft lips smiling into each other.
He pushed you softly against the wall, deepening the kisses between you both.
Looking into your eyes, your hand gracefully past his belt buckle and into the intimate space of his cotton briefs. He was hard and ready, and you moved it between your fingers slowly, savoring his obvious eagerness. Suddenly, his hands were tenderly gripping your wrists, raising them above your head.
"Please don't move," he whispered as he lowered himself onto his knees. With his face directly between your legs, he unhurriedly unclasped the button on your jeans, undid the zipper, and meticulously slid your pants off.
His lips were just an inch away from your black silk panties. He traced your inner thigh with gentle, delicate kisses. He then moved his mouth to your stomach, nibbling at the bottom of your cashmere sweater. As he rose again, he skillfully used only his teeth to lift up the fabric.
You could feel the warmth of his breath hovering over your breasts. The anticipation and desire within you grew as he started to tease you.
In that moment, all the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you throughout the night melted away. The game of jealousy, once an exhilarating dance, now seemed trivial in comparison to the deep connection you both cherished. What had begun as a test of emotions had ultimately revealed the depth of your love and the fragility of your hearts.
"God I love you so much."
His face popped up from between your legs. His lips glistened with the juices of your almost-orgasm while your legs still trembled from his tongue’s teasing.
He gently rubbed his finger along your clit, rousing you back to reality. Your entire body was on high alert. You hadn’t made it to the bed, or even to the sofa. Instead, you both leaned against the wall completely naked by the kitchen table, clothes strewn about haphazardly.
Let’s just say that if any of the partygoers decided to come inside, they would have gotten quite the show.
You couldn’t help but admire the grin on his face and the excitement in his eyes as he stared and stared into you. His hands continued to work their magic, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him to take in more of me.
“I love you too.” The words came out as two moans. As his fingers slipped and dipped inside of me, the pleasure continued to build, kickstarting the shaking and gasping again.
“I could live down here forever," he moaned into you.
“I wish you could, baby.” You tugged on his locks and brought his face towards you. You could taste yourself, sweet and pungent, on his lips. You broke apart and you caught his eyes with yours, mirroring his desire. It was clear that the need you felt to cherish this moment together was mutual.
You wrapped your arms around each other, your bodies heaving towards one another like magnets. The heat from his skin sent shivers down your spine as you feeling of him pressing into you excited you. You kissed for what seemed like an eternity, hands gently grazing skin, tongues tenderly touching - losing yourselves in each other. It was a moment of softness, of utmost sincerity.
But you needed him inside you before you risked being interrupted.
“I’ll be right back,” You said. You sauntered over to your purse that had been forgotten on the kitchen counter where you kept the condoms.
“You're so beautiful,” he groaned.
You turned around to see him watching your every nude move, leaning against the wall in awe. You grabbed the condom from your purse and came back over to him. He took the condom and quickly put in on. He held your hips steadily as he entered you.
You could feel him all the way to your belly button. You screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep. The movement pushed your body all the way forward, causing a consistent banging on the wall you were leaning against. He placed his palms on your ass as he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around him as he bounces you up and down. You take more and more of him as he brands your body with his hands.
"I think everyone outside is going to hear us if you keep moaning like that." His words came out low and throaty.
Your breath was shallow as you got closer to reaching your limit. Nothing existed outside of this moment - the sensation of his hands holding you up, how deeply satisfied this closeness made you feel. You kissed him, holding his mouth on yours for a long time. You breathed in his breaths as you began to tremble and gasp, your orgasms melting into each other, ecstasy swimming through your veins as you finished together.
You had never experienced anything like that before, that insane and electric synchrony. Your limbs vibrated in the fading exhilaration. You leaned back against the fall as he gently let you down. Your knees are weak as you slip down to sit. He kneels down with you, as you both exhale slowly and deeply.
You both sat there catching your breath as you looked out the glass door to the back. From your viewpoint, you could only see the trees as they were cast with the overwhelmingly beautiful pink and purple tie-dyed afternoon sky. People were still laughing and enjoying themselves outside, and you were grateful that you guys had been just shy of their viewpoint into the house.
You turned towards San who had opted to gaze at you isntead of the world outside. He moved his hand to brush some of the hair out of your face.
"Listen," he began, his tone softer once again, dripping with sincerity. "Please, believe me when I say that despite everything, my heart has always been yours. These games were never about finding someone else; they were about making sure you were the one who wanted me."
Words escaped you, overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions coursing through your veins. You both were in the wrong, having chosen to play a game that would play on both of your insecurities. But you squeezed his hand, conveying volumes in that simple gesture. The truth was, despite the hurt you both had caused through these game, your love for eachother remained unshaken.
You gently kissed him once more before giving him a smile, "Let's just agree not to play that silly game anymore and get dressed, okay?"
He nodded and smiled, a flicker of hope now dancing within the depths of his eyes.
"From this moment forward, there will be no more games, no more tests. Just you and me, fighting for our love."
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jvnluvr · 1 year
Text
blue lock boys when they are drunk ♡
when the blue lock boys come home drunk, all they want is you.
ft. sae, rin & kaiser x f!reader
author’s note: im a sucker for my favs okay? fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written i almost cried ten different times send help hsish. also thank you all for 100 followers, i love u all sm mwah. i’m working on requests, they will come soon! otherwise please enjoy <33
itoshi sae:
god, he didn’t even know how he ended up in this position. all sae could remember was losing his game, walking out of that stadium with his usual blank expression, but then his legs took him to the nearest bar. he’s so drunk, heck, he even remembers smoking a cigarette or two while he was chugging down everything. he's overcome with a lot of emotions, but then he remembers.
he wants to go home. he’s up, and he’s walking home. it’s late, its dark, yet he’s still able to somehow manage to get to the front step before he knocks on the door, holding onto it because he’ll fall if he doesn’t. that’s when you open the door and sae falls into your arms. "sae-? what happened?" you ask, trying your best to not let him fall while shutting the door.
you already knew he lost, you were obviously watching the streamed game. but when sae loses, he shuts everyone out for a day at the very least. however, it's weird to find him falling onto you, at your doorstep, and incredibly late at night. he smells like cigarettes, and that's when you understand what is going on.
"sit down, i'll get you water." you guide him to the couch, slowly trying to let go of his arm so you can lie down, but he doesn't let go of you. instead, he pulls you down with him so you're lying down on top of him. "uh, what's this about? you gonna talk to me..?" to say you're confused right now is kind of an understatement. sae hasn't spoken a word to you since he entered, just mindless grumbles and sighs until now, where it's almost like he's searching into your eyes for something.
"y'know, you're a whole lot prettier up close, right?"
what..?
your eyes probably looked bugged right now. you know he's not sober, but when people are drunk, their true feelings come out. sae's never really been an openly affectionate man, you knew that from the moment you met him. so hearing him suddenly throw a compliment into your face has you stunned to say the least.
"c'mon don't look at me like that... this is new to me too.." he mumbles, a red tint starting to appear on his cheeks. he grabs you by your waist to sit you on his lap, and you start to turn red too. "seriously, what's gotten into you sae?" you ask quietly, you both letting out a small chuckle as you stare at each other.
"i don' know.. it's your fault." you tilt your head as his one hand intertwines with yours. "you have beautiful eyes too.. you know that?" you let out a little gasp as your eyes avert away from him. you can feel your ears getting hotter and hotter as each seconds by. now you're actually worried, since when has he thought of these things?
sae put a hand on your cheek to turn you back to him. he has that soft smile plastered onto his face. your gaze softens as he continues talking to you. "you've always had.. that bright light in your eyes... even the first night we met. 't was what got me so interested in you." you bite your lip at that, small water drops forming into your eyes. it wasn't possible for your heart to not melt as those words. "the only thing.. i could think about.. was how much i liked you. how much my heart yearned for you. for how happy i am, to have you in my life now."
he wipes a tear of yours while eliciting that little soft but deep chuckle you always adored. "c'mon, don't cry, was just being honest.." he hugged you, burying his face into your neck and closing his eyes. you were almost certain that after that the alcohol consumed him, that he was too drowsy to even remember all the words he just said. but it's okay. for the chance you got to see itoshi sae confess his love in his own way. you whispered out an "i love you' before falling asleep beside him.
michael kaiser:
"babyy, i'm homee!" yeah, he was definitely slurring over each word he said. you walked out the kitchen, staring as kaiser almost fell atleast 5 times trying to walk over to you. it was hard to try and not laugh at how adorable he was being all tipsy, it was like he was a little child again.
“michael.” you giggled, trying to get him to sit on the chair but you both fell against each other on the floor. “that hurt!” his cheeks are more than just flushed and his eyes are half open. "who are ya, and where's my girlfriend?" to be honest, you were kind of hurt that he couldn't recognize you even while you were right in his face, but kaiser can be a little slow even when sober.
"c'mon michael, 'is me, your girlfriend." you retorted, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to get him to sit down on a chair. but of course, kaiser being kaiser doesn't want to be apart from you for even a second, so he pulls you onto his lap. "i know, 'was just messin' with ya. i'm not that drunk, y'know?" you could only blankly stare at him as he confessed to that. even the dumbest person alive could tell that lie straight through his teeth.
"you are seriously not gonna tell me you aren't THAT drunk. you slipped over the fuckin' air." you both looked at each other, slightly grinning at that. silence. ah there it is, you both burst out laughing not even a second after, because you know it was true. "honestly though, you REEK of alcohol, go shower or somethin'." you tried getting off his lap, you really did. but does he care? of course not.
"no, 'm gonna stay here, too tired to shower..." you let out a small sigh at that, but if he wasn't going to get into the shower, you weren't going to let him doze off in his uncomfy chair. both of your backs couldn't take that kind of pain right now. "okay okay, we're both tired, let's go to bed, hm?" kaiser quietly grumbled as a counter, not wanting to let you go. at that point, your sounds started to sound more grumpy. you should have dragged him to bed when you had the chance.
"hiii babyy, i love you." kaiser suddenly said, with a smile hanging ear to ear. you didn't know what he was up to, but you just quietly ignored his statement of affection. "you're really cute when you're grumpy," he added, followed by a bunch of little mischievous giggles. "but you're cute all the time, so it makes it absolutelyyy irresistible to stay mad at you." you're so embarrassed by kaiser's sudden overload of compliments that, you start to playfully hit him? one hit to the arm, one hit to the head, and you continue in order to stop being so flustered by the drunk man in front of you.
"ow! i literally said you're cute, why are you hitting me- stop! ow!" even if you were hitting him, kaiser couldn't help but let out more laughs when he realized why you were hitting him. "aww, you're embarrased, aren't ya?" he pressed you for a kiss, but you just put your hand over his mouth to push him back. you couldn't take being more abashed over your extraordinarily drunk boyfriend.
"if you're not gonna accept my love, let me properly confess it, alrightt?" again, you were too afraid to even blurt out a single world in fear of stuttering and having kaiser coo into your ear about how cute you were. so you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue his speech. "got your attention, pretty? i've had a crush on you since the first time i met you, like the biggest crush ever, like the moment i saw you i swear those hearts appeared in my eyes like they do in cartoon shows." he was stuttering as the alcohol was still rushing in his system, but kaiser sounded like a little boy who had been lovestruck with the mere thought of you.
"you're so stupid sometimes.." you mumbled, but nonetheless giddy with happiness and love. "maybe, but i'm stupidly in love with you." all you could do was let out a sheepish smile before pulling him into a hug. "i love you.." and that was followed with snores. you didn't really plan on how to move kaiser out of this awkward position, but what you did know that he was a pretty cute lovestruck man when he was drunk.
itoshi rin:
rin isn't one to typically get drunk, he's not even one to have maybe more than three shots of alcohol at most. but tonight, he went completely overboard. maybe the drinks just tasted good, maybe he had lost his mind. not the matter of how he got drunk, but he was stumbling into your shared apartment when you just barely saw you peeking through your bedroom door through his blurry eyes.
"rin, are you okay..?" you murmured, slowing walking towards him. "mm, 'm fine, were you sleeping?" even if he was on the verge of passing out, rin was one of those guys who was able to maintain his composure. he didn't like how he felt, so he stride towards the kitchen, aching for a glass of water. "was waiting for you, did you drink, rin?" he turned around to see you standing there waiting for him.
"mhm, sorry, don't know what got over me. wait in the room for me, i'll be in there soon." he replied, turning back around to put his glass in the sink, but when he shifted back, he could still see you waiting his in peripheral vision. "what are you waiting for, [name]?" rin asked, still feeling the horrible effects of the alcohol continuing to flow through his blood stream. "i told you, 'm waiting for you." you knew that if you went back, he would fall asleep on the nearby couch, heck even fall and just pass out on the floor, he was drunk out of his mind.
"alright, c'mon let's go." he slowly trailed behind you, the cold air hitting him in the face when he realized he feels way too hot. rin slowly discards his jacket and his shirt, moving to lie down with you. but the one thing he couldn't help but notice is that you didn't make direct eye contact with him, your eyes are averted in every direction except his, why is that? maybe the reason he hated alcohol so much is because of what it does to him. he wants your attention, he craves for your touch, it's weird to him.
so rin extends his arm towards you, he has a hold on your waist before you're too close to him. "what's wrong..?" he examines you, how you're still not looking into his eyes. "look at me, why aren't you looking at me honey?" he's surprised that it does the trick, because your eyes are finally in his direct field of view, and his heart melts. "nothin', just thought you might have wanted to sleep, so didn't wanna' bother you." you answered shyly, realizing now that he wanted nothing more than you. it's silent for a bit, just the both of you in each other's embrace, lying down in the dark.
"mm, you don't bother me, you know that?" he starts, rin doesn't realize that all of sudden he's rambling to you. "i say you shouldn't be nervous but the truth is.. i'm always a bit nervous around you. we've been together for a while but.. i don't know.. i just.. always want to know more about you. it drives me insane sometimes, 'cause i don't usually care about people like that. but for you i just-" he's pulling you closer into your chest, noticing how your grip tightens on him as he continues speaking. "i just want to know every tiny detail about you. i notice the small things about you. the way your smile goes slightly down, you touch the tip of your eyes when your embarrassed, and you always touch the same spot-" he intertwines his hands with yours, rubbing over the spot he's just about to mention. "you always touch the same spot of your hand when you're focused. i pay attention to those things because i care about you, i hope you knew that."
"rin.." you whisper, it's all you could physically verbalize. but all you could feel were the hot tears you were spilling onto his chest. you felt guilty, quickly trying to wipe them away, but he looked down to hush your sobs. "'m sorry, didn't wanna make you cry. i meant it though, even if i don't say it much." it's undeniable that you just want to be even closer to him than humanely possible, you wouldn't dare think of even letting him go for a second after that. "i think you should get drunk more often," which dragged a small string of chuckles from you two. "being drunk sucks, but we can compromise and i'll try and tell you how much i love and want to be with you more, yea?" rin shared, fumbling over his words. yep, still definitely drunk.
"mhm, go to sleep now, 'kay?" you acknowledged, content with how tonight turned out to be. "you go to sleep too, i love you." and rin let himself pass out in the comfort of your presence. not only until a few moments later could you say 'i love you' back, but he was secretly waiting to fall asleep until he heard confirmation of your feelings.
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heeliopheelia · 11 months
Text
"this is not your fault" (jake x reader)
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genre: angst, fluff word count: 0.8k requested by nonnie ♡
warnings: crying, mentions of an argument
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You check the clock for the nth time this night. 3:32 am. With your throat tight, you turn on your side, somehow unable to find a comfortable enough position on your couch. The guilt has been eating you from the inside for the past two hours.
You're well aware that you're the one who was in the wrong for the whole time. It took you three hours to let go of your pride and stubbornness and finally acknowledge that. All the yelling and mean words you spat on your boyfriend keep running over your mind like a broken record and you have to cover your face with your hands to try and somehow block these thoughts out for even couple minutes.
There are no excuses for your behavior, you know that. No bad day at work, no matter how frustrating, should ever make you snap like that and take all of the increasing tension out on your boyfriend. Jake has always been nothing but patient with you, calmly enduring your mood swings and every tiniest outbursts of yours. Which is why you feel such resentment towards yourself for hurting him this much.
You're facing the backrest of the couch, eyes squeezed tightly as you try to force the tears to stay unshed, so you get really caught off guard when you feel a fluffy blanket draping over your body.
"You're gonna catch a cold, silly," he mumbles quietly, thinking you're asleep.
He carefully tucks the blanket around your shivering body and your heart swells in its size at his kindness. The second that you hear him shuffling away from you, you swing your legs to the side and sit up on the couch, trapping his waist in between your arms.
"Don't go," you let out a whimper, letting all of the tears flow down your cheeks.
And he listens to you. Jake doesn't move an inch, hating to see you suffering so much. He's already used to dealing with your pride, and although he can't say you didn't hurt him today, he hates witnessing you breaking down even more. He can clearly hear the shortness of your breath as you sob quietly, fingers clenching tightly on his tank top.
You stay like that for couple minutes - you clinging onto him with all of your might, face buried in his stomach as his fingers gently comb through your hair. After another moment, he finally loosens your grip on his middle and crouches down in front of you, letting you snuggle into his neck instead.
His lips press to the crown of your head lovingly, hands holding you closely to his chest as your tears soak through his clothing.
"I'm sorry," you mumble incoherently, sniffling between your words. Your breathing comes out sharp and stuttered but Jake's hand still stroking your hair slowly starts to soothe you. "I'm so sorry."
"Hey, this is not your fault alone," he says, leaning his chin on your shoulder before placing a kiss on your neck. "I could've been more understanding too."
"No, this one's entirely on me," you manage to say as you clench your hands on the back of his tank top. "And I'm really sorry, Jake. Please forgive me. I'm never gonna let my frustrations out on you, I promise."
With a sigh, he pulls away and cups your face in between his slim fingers. Your tear-stained cheeks glisten in the dark room and Jake wipes them away with the back of his hand, leaning in to kiss your brow bone warmly.
"I forgave you the second I left the room. I came to check up on you cause you haven't come back to bed, love. If I knew you were here wide awake for all this time, I would've come and get you sooner instead of letting you cry in here all by yourself."
"It's what I deserved, Jake. How do you even still put up with me after all this time?" You ask, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek softly. "You're so sweet. Way too good for me."
"Don't say that," he scolds you gently before leaning in and pressing your lips together. His kisses are slow and so full of love that you find yourself on the verge of breaking down again. You can feel his fingers swiping underneath your eyes, getting rid of all the tears that have managed to escape your eyes again. "No more crying, okay? Wanna go to bed now? We should probably get some sleep."
You nod your head, letting him wrap his arms around you and lift you up. He pulls you closely to his chest and pecks your head, muttering a quiet love you in your hair.
As all of the previous guilt and self-loathing slowly starts fading away, you catch yourself falling asleep the second your bodies hit the soft bed, safely tucked in Jake's arms.
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permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin
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cannellee · 8 months
Note
May I request alpha! Baji hcs with an omega! Reader? (Sfw and nsfw?)
I just love it when I see omegaverse on tokyo revengers tumblr. There should be more of it.
And baji is best boy fr he's so protective its no wonder he's ranked best boyfriend
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★
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୨୧ alpha! Baji x omega! Reader
— tokyo revengers a/b/o headcanons
my masterlist : ☆
tw : sex and possessive behaviour
(that's what I'm saying! baji's the best fr and I love that he's canonically a green flag. hope you like it 🫶🏼 btw I'm not so sure about my ability to write nsfw so I kept it short in case it's bad. I'm slowy trying to get better at it, hope you don't mind!)
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alpha baji is a great lover.
he's respectful, attentive and loyal to a fault.
he knows what's wrong from one glance, but he just sometimes doesn't know how to act upon your reactions.
this is why baji is a huge fan of scenting. when he feels like you're upset and he struggles to comfort you, he'll softly release his pheromones.
his scent is really strong. a mix of red grapefruit and musk, which makes you feel soo at home.
baji is either really secretive about your relationship or is massively telling everyone you're his, there's no in between.
it's not that he doesn't want his friends or anyone to know you're his omega, it's just that he doesn't understand why he should tell anyone if they don't ask.
having your approval and assurance that you're doing perfectly well by his side is enough for him, he doesn't need people's reactions or opinions.
but on the other hand, his possessive side is so strong that it sometimes feels like he would carve his name on your skin if he could.
not that he wants to hurt you though, so he scents you and marks you and basically just claims you in every way possible.
surprisingly gets upset easily, but doesn't say a thing. though his frown gives him away and a small peck from you is all he needs.
not that comfortable with pda at the beginning of the relationship, it takes time for baji to actually open up fully.
but once he does it means you're his partner for life, there's no going back.
when you're doing anything he'll be rubbing his head up and down your back, putting his smell on you. it makes him proud and satisfied when you go past him and the only thing he can smell is his pheromones on you.
your nest is his nest! baji doesn't want to admit it but the way you build your nest, arrange it so it's cozy and warm and with so much familiar smells, all of that makes him feel so comfy.
at first he didn't get exactly what he should do, so he would watch you build your nest while standing on the side awkwardly.
now he's vigorously scenting everything, even the pieces of fabric which are already covered of so much pheromones.
baji during your heat is exactly what you would expect of him : dominant, possessive and restless. he's not stopping, doing it in any position possible while also making sure you're the most satisfied.
when you're asleep, he's cleaning you up and making a simple meal so you can restore your strength. when you're this vulnerable and unable to feed yourself correctly, baji does his best to make you know that he's got your back as your alpha and that he's ready and able to provide for you.
but when baji's in rut, that's a whole other story.
he will be tearing anybody's throat at any sign of a challenge and will keep you well guarded at his house inside the nest you made specifically for his rut.
when he's not biting you or man handling you, baji is blowing out your back in the most animalistic way possible, making it impossible for you to walk correctly after his rut ended.
but you're his sweet omega and you love to satisfy and help your alpha the way he needs it so you don't mind, besides, it always feels so good you find yourself waiting for his next rut.
since you started dating, you noticed a slight change in baji's personality.
he seems calmer and less hot headed. it's safe to say you have a part in his positive change of behaviour.
baji is now a responsible and mature alpha, it can't be any other way. showing up with bruises everywhere and smelling of burnt cars and cigarettes is no longer an option. he knows it makes you stressed and you constantly worry for him ; your concern moves him so much, he lives for that pouty look on your face everytime you lecture him for not knowing better... but baji isn't keen on your anxious smell and worried eyes so he's careful now.
in fact, he makes sure to not get any scratches on him when he goes out! he still burns cars when he's in a bad mood, but since you're there he's rarely feeling off.
but don't worry, nothing will ever stop him from driving away any threats that come into your direction!
baji, much like mikey, is the epitome of the dominating alpha and won't kneel in front of anyone. you're his omega and it's his job to keep you safe and protected.
baji doesn't care, he catches a look at your direction: it's a fight. someone tried and get a sniff of your scent: he's making sure he'll never be able to smell anything in his life. someone directly confronts him and challenges him for you? to the hospital they go, if not worse.
baji has a reputation and as soon as they learn that you're his omega, you can bet you're the safest.
especially since you guys are in the same school, so he can be your personal bodyguard. by the end of the first week, everyone got the memo that you're not to be messed with.
but the toman is also a huge fan of you. who could ever tame baji? it's unbelievable for most them to see baji so docile and careful around someone.
you might not notice since he's always been like this around you, but his friends can tell he treats you differently. his soft spot for you is so evident it's laughable.
they're just not used to him being so compliant and well behaved, gently scenting you and feeding you with the utmost attention, as if you were the most delicate being he's ever seen.
overall, baji and you are living the dream. he's now always hugging you and scenting you and playing with your hair inside your nest (his favourite place!) he loves you so much!
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vexxandra · 1 month
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after the fall (timeless pick-a-card)
so you`ve taken the leap of faith. what now? ☆ 4-10-24
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PILE ONE ; " in the darkest of night / there is always light " ...
after pulling your cards, i immediately heard 'fed to the wolves', and i feel like that's how you feel as well. i think that at the start, you'll feel extremely vulnerable, and some of your older or more reputed peers might intimidate you at the start, but after a while, this energy changes. i hear 'pulling out the roots', so this energy is not permanent at all. i see it shifting into an extremely light and bright energy that feels like peace and happiness.
i think you'll find what you're lacking after taking the leap of faith. i feel like there's some emotional unsatisfaction in some shape or form, and this leap of faith you're taking is you trying to find it. i think you will, pile one, for sure you will. you just have to brave your way through the storm for a little longer to reach it. i believe in you.
PILE TWO ; " where is the key / that could possibly stop me " ...
i dont know what you're looking for. do you? i feel like you're trying to fix your past mistakes. you feel small and worthless, like things keep going wrong, like you can't do anything right. are you looking for a way to stop messing up? to stop your endless surge of mistakes? i dont know your situation, but objectively speaking, its not all your fault. i can't figure out what you'll find, because this feels like an energy of the past, or unknowing present. you can't live in the past, try to forgive yourself in order to move on to a lighter future.
after taking your leap of faith, you find people who bring you away from the past, into an energy of acceptance and positivity and adventures. im really happy for you pile two, this energy is really infectious and so accepting that my heart is bleeding. i feel like this group of people will really be influential to you, and will help you find gratitude in the little things. you might not know what this leap of faith is at the moment, but you will in time, just listen to your heart.
PILE THREE ; " sometimes its me / that has to chose to be free " ...
after i pulled these cards, i felt confusion and honestly a little scared. i felt a kind of dangerous energy, but after a little bit, realized that it was a good energy. the cards tell a very fortunate outcome, but you have to take it into your own hands. you're tangled in knots, waiting for someone to set you free. but just like the quote above, you have to set yourself free sometimes. find confidence to fall after you free yourself, because it is inevitable, but don't bruise yourself too much getting up.
after falling, you'll find yourself rising from the ashes of your old self and find your true happiness. in the cards, i see stability, happiness, and strength (literally). i feel like you'd have everything you'd ever want and have your perfect dream life. i think that it might take a little time for this to happen as i had to marinate on this reading before having the energy to continue it but i feel like the wait will be totally worth it as i can see you being happy for a very, very long time.
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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spencer x pregnant wife!reader but shes extra clingy and lovey from all the hormones. constantly touching him, kissing him, complimenting him, etcetc. she just cant get enough and he thinks its so adorable
blurb-worthy concept
"No, Spence." You complain when the alarm goes off, and he shifts to get out of bed to start his morning routine.
"Hmm?" He says, turning the alarm off before rolling over onto his side to face you.
You shuffle closer to him, tucking your chin into his neck and wrapping your arms around his waist. He hugs you back, his enormous palm pushing up the back of your shirt and gliding over your skin.
"Cuddly this morning." He notes.
"I love you an overwhelming amount." You inform him, your voice breaking slightly. Damn those pregnancy hormones for making you want to cry thinking about how perfect he is and how much you love him.
He picks up on your wave of emotions first thing in the morning, and he's not at all deterred by it. "I love you."
"You're just so handsome, kind, and perfect, and you don't care if I'm difficult because I'm pregnant and everything inside me is messy." You ramble.
"You being pregnant is partially my fault." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
You laugh between your tears. "How did I get so lucky that I'm married to you?"
"I feel like I'm the lucky one." He says. "Getting to be loved by you."
"Lucky enough that you won't go to work?" You wonder, hopeful at the chance to stay in bed exactly how you're positioned until you absolutely have to move.
He chuckles, twisting out of your embrace to grab his phone. You pout, assuming he's checking the time to see when he has to leave. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you will yourself not to cry, knowing he's got massive responsibilities and that you shouldn't have even asked and potentially made him feel guilty for leaving you.
He turns back to you and holds his nostrils, so he has to breathe through his mouth. "Do I sound sick like this?" He asks. His higher pitch voice makes you giggle, giving your approval by nodding. "Shh, you can't laugh or Hotch'll know."
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traumasurvivors · 2 months
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I wrote a blog post about how harmful it can be to have your emotions invalidated growing up. It's here if you want to check it out! I'll paste the text below the read more for people who don't like links, but if you're comfortable, I really appreciate getting hits on my site! It feels really validating after all the work I've put into it. I've opted to not have any ads or anything to monetize my site, so it isn't like those annoying clickbait articles.
The effects of having our emotions invalidated while we’re growing up isn’t talked about enough and it can have lasting effects. This can happen when people say things like “you don’t know real struggles” when a younger person is upset about something they’re struggling with. This might include being told “I’ll give you something to cry about” which implied that the reason you were crying then “wasn’t a big enough reason”. Other people may have had to deal with “worse” problems and so we were told to be thankful for what we had because of what other children experienced. Your feelings of sadness, frustration, disappointment or anger were still real and valid. And you were allowed those feelings.
You may have been told to “stop being so sensitive,” which taught that you weren’t tough enough. You may have also been told “it builds character” which may have made you feel that you had to find a positive lesson in every bad thing you experienced. This can also be part of how people invalidate the seriousness of abuse, and other things that happened to you that were someone else’s fault. If someone doesn’t want to take responsibility, they may minimize what happened to you. They may say it’s okay because “they didn’t mean to do it” or “they don’t know any better,” perhaps because of abuse they went through. Your feelings may be invalidated because someone wants you to “let it go.” How serious they feel it was, or the reasons it happened, are not reasons that your feelings should be ignored or disregarded. Your feelings are valid. You should never have to “let it go.” 
These things that we were told, and many more, taught us that our emotions were bad and wrong. It likely felt invalidating. It may have been damaging And it probably affects how we see the emotions of others. I’ve had people say similar things to me now that I’m an adult, and I think it’s likely they do it because they were told things like these when they were younger, too. Over time, this has led to me invalidating my own feelings. I’ve told myself I should be strong and to avoid such feelings, or that the reasons for them weren’t “big enough”. I told myself that others had it worse than me, therefore I wasn’t allowed to be upset. None of these things helped me. Instead, they actually made me worse off. I bottled stuff up and then began using unhealthy coping methods to deal with the emotions. Having our emotions invalidated as we grow up can be traumatizing in its own way. It also doesn’t teach us how to effectively deal with and process our negative emotions. This can lead to people having fits of uncontrollable rage, spirals of depression and guilt, substance abuse to avoid feelings, and any number of other unhealthy reactions that can cause us more harm and prolong everything or make it worse.
Being unable to cope with my feelings was a big part of me not being able to cope with conflict in my relationships. Downplaying any “bad” thing that happened and ignoring it meant, for instance, I wouldn’t point out and deal with a small (sometimes completely unintentional) mistake. Instead, I let my feelings build without communicating about them and let my resentment build. By the time I acknowledged and spoke about my feelings, the problem was a thousand times worse than it would have been if I had dealt with it quickly. And sometimes it was too late to fix the damage done.
It’s not too late to learn and do better. You don’t have to be thankful it wasn’t “worse”. You don’t have to find a silver lining. While it’s important not to get stuck in our feelings long-term, sitting with them and feeling them and acknowledging you aren’t okay is okay! It’s okay to think something sucks or that it wasn’t fair. It’s okay to feel frustrated or sad over “small” things. Sometimes we don’t even understand why a situation or something has left us having such big feelings, and that’s okay, too! Your feelings are real and valid, even if they don’t make sense to you. And you deserve patience and compassion. Especially from yourself.
When you have negative feelings, if you find yourself minimizing them, or telling yourself why you don’t have a right to feel them, stop and try to be aware of what you’re doing. And allow yourself to feel it if you can. I've often had to remind myself that while it is uncomfortable, I can be uncomfortable and sit with my feelings. Think about if there’s a healthy response you can have to those feelings. For instance, if someone said something hurtful to you, talking to them about it might be a lot more productive than acting like you don’t care. Your feelings are valid. And invalidating them yourself is unlikely to be good for you.
Try to remember that, and try to be kind to yourself.
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irisintheafterglow · 7 months
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Hii! I saw ur requests were open and I was wondering if I could request gojo x fem!reader where gojo comforts the reader? (They’re bf and gf) Just like this ——> https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNM9STn9/ it seems kind of cute and I always wonder how gojo would comfort the reader like this. I get these random sad episodes where I get sad out of nowhere and most of the time there was no reason why and also sometimes it would make me tear up and blame myself for those episodes cause like why would I get sad when there’s nothing to be sad for, you know? Soo yeahh this is my request… i hope its not much🥹💙
bad days and blanket burritos
cw: mild angst/fluff, established relationship, pet names (baby, love, sweetheart), he just loves you so much :(((
note: HI LOVE !!! omg that video is literally so cute i love it. sending you so much love; it's not your fault that we get sad out of nowhere. it just sucks and i totally get that. hopefully this makes you feel a little better when you feel that way <3
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!
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"baby?"
"here, 'toru," you call from your shared bedroom. you'd been in the same position for hours, curled up on his side with your face on his pillows. his head pokes out from the doorway and you can barely see his eyebrows draw together in hidden concern. "hi, love. how was the mission?" you try to muster the energy to sit up but decide against it when your forehead pounds like you were knocked by an anvil.
"easy there, sweetheart," he whispers, cradling your head while you fall back against the sheets. he crouches by your side, taking your right hand in his left and running his thumb over your knuckles. with his free hand, he undoes the tie of his blindfold and you smile weakly when you meet his eyes. "what's goin' on?"
"i really don't know," you admit quietly, swallowing the emotions welling up in your throat. "i just feel so sad and i can't even rationalize why."
"you don't need to rationalize anything, baby. if you're sad, then you're sad, and that's okay," he reassures you, pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand. "you do, however, look like you need water. when's the last time you ate?"
"i have no idea," you murmur and he nods patiently. without another word, he disappears into your closet and pulls a thick blanket from the top shelf. turning to look at him, you watch as he lays it out on the empty side of the bed, taking great care to make sure it's flat. when he's satisfied, he travels back to your side and gently starts to roll you onto the blanket. "satoru, what are you-"
"shh, just let me take care of you," he insists and you can't help laughing a little as he slowly wraps you in the blanket like a burrito. after you reach the end of the blanket, his arms slide under your legs and back and lift you off the bed like you weigh nothing at all. "you like your little cocoon, baby?"
"sure, 'toru," you reply, fitting your face into the crook of his neck. he walks you to the living room couch and plops you down unceremoniously, adjusting pillows around you so you're at your most comfortable. "what are you doing, love?"
"trying to make you less sad," he replies, shooting you a heart-stopping wink and reappearing from the kitchen with a straw in a glass of water. "now, drink. when you're done, let me know what you want for dinner because i am starving."
"thank you, satoru. you're too good to me on my bad days." he tsks with his tongue and resettles onto the couch with you, draping an arm around your shoulders.
"i'm in love with you, silly. i'm here for the good and the bad, whether you like it or not."
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months
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The Fuck Are You Doing on His Bike? || One Shot
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!
This was a request on my old blog: "After Dwight and Sherry steal Daryl's bike, it's up to reader to get it back for him."
Summary: Reader and Daryl get separated from Sasha and Abraham when they lead the heard away from Alexandria, then Reader and Daryl get separated from each other. When Reader sees a couple riding away on Daryl's bike, she risks her life to get the bike and his crossbow back, reuniting with him later.
18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, violence, injuries
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        The triumphant feeling of successfully leading hundreds of walkers away from Alexandria was quickly washed away when gunfire rained down on the four of you, you and Daryl on his bike, and Sasha and Abraham trailing behind you in a car. The crash was unavoidable, and between the unknown strangers shooting at you and the few walkers here and there, you all got separated. The only solace you found was in the radio you still had, and your pistol. 
        You didn't know where Daryl went, or if he even realized you had fallen off the back of his bike when he took an extra sharp turn. It wasn't his fault. You'd still be there if you didn't loosen your grip from around his waist to shoot back. You were simply a victim of poor timing, as was usually the case in a world plagued by death and destruction. 
        You were limping through the trees, following alongside the road, hoping to see any form of life from your friends. "Daryl?" You radioed. You huffed in frustration realizing it was you who had the radio, how could he hear you? "Sasha? Abraham?" Silence. What could you do? You guessed all that was left to do was search for your friends and keep going.
        "Fuck!" You groaned. You slid across the asphalt when you fell off his bike, tearing your clothes to shreds along with the flesh underneath. In short, you had a serious case of road rash and you'd kill for some Neosporin and a bandage. The dry air on your raw flesh was unbearable. 
        Nonetheless, you pushed forward. There was no time to feel bad for yourself, you had a mission. Find Daryl and the others and get home alive.
        Hours had gone by since you'd seen anyone. You were beginning to lose hope, between the radio silence and the recent attack. That was, until you heard the familiar hum of a loud engine guzzling gas in the distance. You smiled and stopped walking. You were near a small store, so you crossed the street from the trees you used as cover and crouched down behind an abandoned vehicle in front of the little building, just in case it wasn't who you needed it to be.
        The motorcycle came into view only moments after you positioned yourself, and to you dismay it was a skinny blonde dude and a chick with dark hair, not Daryl. It was, however, for sure Daryl's bike. The couple slowed down and propped the bike on its kickstand, and the two of them stepped off. Some kind of argument took place, the girl pointing back to where the came from and the guy throwing his hands around with frustration. You couldn't hear them well, so you couldn't know this, but she was scolding Dwight for robbing Daryl after he helped them, and Dwight was defending himself, citing survival as a valid reason for his betrayal.
        You checked your mag to ensure you had plenty of bullets before you stood straight, aiming right for the man. 
        "The fuck are you doing on his bike?" You shouted to them from where you stood behind the broken down car. They both snapped their faces toward you, Dwight holding the crossbow up at you. "I asked you a fucking question, asshole!"
        "Well, I don't feel like talking much!" He called back.
        "Well I'm definitely in the mood for some shooting, and from where I stand I see two strangers riding my friend's bike. And you, sir, are aiming my friend's weapon at me." You shot back.
        "We just found this stuff!" He lied. You scoffed, running your tongue over your teeth, begging for a reason to shoot. You thought, maybe I'll shoot the guy, and question the girl at gunpoint. Then, maybe if she cooperates, I'll let her live.
        "Well it's not yours so how about you leave it there and walk away, nobody gets hurt!" You suggested.
        "Not gonna happen." He shook his head. 
        "Have it your way." You shrugged, opening fire on the both of them. They ducked down behind the bike with haste, Dwight firing an arrow at you and missing completely. "You telling me you robbed by friend of a weapon you can't even fucking use?!" You spat, peeking from one side of the car, searching for the right moment to show these motherfuckers that you meant business.
        "Why don't you stand up and let me prove myself?" He called back.
        "You first, shitbag!"
        "Real classy." He retorted.
        "This ain't classy world. Give me my fucking bike!"
        "Thought you said it was your friend's!"
        "That makes it mine, too." You clarified, standing quickly when you saw him peek over the bike and firing a shot. He must have had the same plan because he, too, fired a bolt. You fell back to the ground, a shaky hand raising up to your shoulder where the arrow protruded. 
        "Alright," you called back. "You're getting better at this."
        "Not good enough, or you wouldn't be talking right now."
        You ignored his remark, resorting to laying flat on the ground and watching him from the underside of the car. You fired a single shot, and it must have hit, because there was a loud groan following suit.
        "Guess we're even!" You yelled.
        "Even doesn't get you far anymore." He said back. You could hear the painful strain in his voice and wondered if he heard your agonized tremble when he first shot you with the bow.
        "No, no it doesn't. But you could still give me our shit back and tell me where my friend is and walk away from this alive. Alive is all that counts, man."
        "Can't do that."
        "Then I guess one of us just has to die!" You winced as you fired another shot, the kickback of the handgun reminding you of your shoulder being impaled. 
        "Fuck!" He shouted as a bullet ricocheted, grazing him deep.
        "Walk away, man!" 
        "No!" He shouted, unsuccessfully firing another arrow. 
        "Ya know, the man you stole that bow from always told me rage didn't make for a good shot!" You taunted, checking your mag again. Two bullets left. You'd have to make them count. 
        You went over what you knew in your head. This guy isn't a good shot, and he stole Daryl's shit. Which meant if you ran, he probably would miss you, and if you did have to kill him, he brought it on himself. You hadn't really decided what to do with the woman he had with him, but you reasoned to cross that line when you got there. For now, you only had one plan in the heat of the moment, and it was to run out and shoot him.
        You took a deep breath and snapped the arrowhead off the bolt sticking out of your shoulder. You bit down on your tongue to stifle the cry as you pulled the other half out of your shoulder from the back, and sighed a shaky breath once you got it out, throwing it to the side. When the blindness of pain faded, you readied yourself and made a break for it, running from behind the car as fast as you could. You didn't stop until you heard the whistle of the bolt behind you.
        Knowing he'd need time to reload, you made your move, shuffling over to the bike and holding the gun to his temple. Defeat washed over his demeanor as he let the bow fall on his lap and raised his hands slowly.
        "Check mate." You said, coking your head to the side a little.
        "Yeah." He scoffed, shaking his head.
        "Where the fuck is he?"
        "Daryl?" The woman asked from beside him, earing a glare from her counterpart. Fear and panic were written all over her face.
        "Yup. The one and only."
        "He's alive. Just a mile or so in the direction we came from. We didn't hurt him." She assured you.
        "Well, that's great to hear! Unfortunately, though, now I have to figure out what the fuck to do with you two ass-hats."
        "Let us go. Let us walk away, alive, just like you said." She pleaded.
        "See I really would have loved to do that, but me and your boy here already agreed that one of us is gonna have to die." You regretted to inform her. 
        "Me. Kill me." He sighed. "It was all me."
        "No! He was just scared. He didn't wanna hurt anyone. That's why he didn't hurt Daryl. Those people we were running from, they're bad people. We just had to get away." She begged.
        You looked between the two of them, putting yourself in their shoes. If what they say is true, then you could sympathize. Still, who would you be to let him shoot an arrow through your shoulder and walk away? You guessed you shot him back, twice if you counted the ricochet, so maybe it was even. Then again, he did say even didn't get you anywhere anymore.
        "Daryl -- Your friend. He offered to let us come back with him to your community. But he panicked and took his stuff instead. That's all that happened. I swear. He's alive." She continued to try and persuade you for mercy. 
        "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you." You said to Dwight. "One reason why letting you live would not be a threat to my own wellbeing."
        "Because we just want to live. Me and my wife. We'll go, no questions asked, no following you, no nothing. We just wanted to save her sister and she died anyways, so, it's just us. We don't want trouble."
        "Well, you seem to make trouble. A lot of it." You sighed.
        "You," you looked to Sherry as you slowly picked up Daryl's crossbow and slung it over your shoulder while the barrel of your gun never left Dwight's temple. "Stand up slowly, and walk into the woods."
        "No." Dwight growled. You pressed the cold metal to his head harder.
        "If you want her to live, she does as I say." You growled. 
        "It's okay." Sherry said. "I'll go." 
        With that, she stood up slowly, and took careful steps toward the trees. 
        "You don't stop until you hear the engine start, you hear me?" You instructed her. She nodded and kept walking. 
        "Now, you." You said to Dwight, kneeling down so you were at his eye level. He glared at you. "You're gonna stand up, and drop any weapons you might have hidden down on the ground."
        Reluctantly he did as you said, dropping his only knife and his empty gun to the ground.
        "There's more in the duffel." He confessed, nudging the army green bag with his foot.
        "Okay." You said, aim still trained on his forehead. "Now, you're gonna walk the other way, into the trees behind that gas station over there. That way you two can't plan any funny business."
        "That's my wife, man, please." He breathed.
        "Listen. You keep going until I start the engine. Then you can come back here and get your weapons. By then, I'll be riding into the fucking sunset. My only concern is my friend." You explained. He obliged with little more argument, and when you couldn't see either of them anymore, you picked up the duffel, threw his empty pistol into it, and left his knife on the ground. When you got the bike started, you revved the engine to let them know you were holding up your end of the deal, and you sped away. 
        It was only about twenty minutes later that you saw a stocky figure storming along the side of the road. You recognized the vest from a distance and sped up. You already had his attention when he heard his bike, and he was relieved to see that it was you. You pulled up beside him with a little smirk.
        "Care for a ride, pretty lady?" You teased.
        "Move over." Was all he said, clearly still sore that the couple had gotten one over on him. You swung your leg over the side and stood up. That was when he noticed the blood all over your shoulder and all the road rash under your ripped clothes. You shrugged.
        "Wasn't easy getting your shit back." Was all you said. He gently examined your shoulder.
        "They shot at you?" He asked, showing concern.
        "He was a shit shot, but yeah. Got me with one of your bolts." You confessed.
        "Hope you killed his sorry ass." He grumbled.
        "Not.. exactly." You said.
        "Shoulda." Was all he said, before placing a short sweet kiss on your lips, and another on your forehead. "C'mon," he said as he swung his leg over the bike and turned it back on. "Let's find Sasha and Abraham and get the hell outta here."
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