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#I'm shaking these look so realistic
suiana · 2 months
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(yandere! fictional character x gn! cosplayer reader) (reader is refuses to acknowledge yan and where he originally came from 💀)
"that's a nice cosplay! where'd you get that wig from?"
"this is not a wig."
"what?"
he tugs at his hair harshly, bending down slightly so you can see his roots. you stare in shock, eyes wide open as you marvel in delight. woah! his cosplay was so realistic!
"see? not a wig."
"oh... nice dye job then!"
"this is my natural hair."
he retorts, standing back upright as you maintain eye contact with him. you tear your gaze away from him, taking in his body and features as you tilt your head at him slightly. huh... now that you're actually looking at him... his cosplay looks a little too realistic... there's no way..?
"you're so cool! you're like, that one character from that one anime i really love-"
"maybe cause i am? i'm here to see you actually...."
you shake your head at him, wagging a finger as you chuckle slightly. it was such a sight for everyone to see. a "delusional" cosplayer and a cosplayer who rejects everything that said delusional cosplayer said.
"haha! you're so in character! if i were a little more dumb i would've believed you!"
you then pat him on the back before waving goodbye at him. the convention was still on-going and you had lots left to do! you must bid farewell to him even if you wanted to chat more. what an interesting fella he is! does he really think he's a fictional character that came into your world just to see you?
"see ya! hope you enjoy the rest of the con! wait, can i have a pic first though?"
you hold your phone, looking up at him expectantly. his beautiful features stare down at you before he sighs, nodding as he poses for the camera.
you cheer, getting your phone in position before flinching as you feel him stand way too close for comfort. ah well... it's only for a while anyways. you'll just let this one pass...
"thank you! see ya!"
you then skip away, wanting to enjoy the rest of the con as you leave the mysterious cosplayer all alone. what a funny guy! he was so in character and he said he was here for you! how cute!
unfortunately it was not cute at all for him.
damn it, he thinks. he grits his teeth as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration. you're just so... infuriating at times. how could he make you believe that he's real?
and that's when it hit him. he could just kill everyone in this convention until you acknowledge him! what a wonderful idea! he then stretches, warming up his body as he grins to himself.
he can't wait to see that look on your face when you realize that he's the real deal!
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luveline · 5 months
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Ok this isn’t Halloween but I would love to see a fic of the first time r spends the night at Aaron’s and she changes into her pj which r these super cute delicate tank and shorts set and Aaron goes crazy!! Like he’s a gentleman obvi (or trying hard to be) but he starts opening my flirting with her and she’s so confused bc usually he’s much more subtle
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
cw adult theme mdni
You don't bother changing in the bathroom. It's not an attempt to come onto him, though you're wondering if he might want that, but a realistic practice. If Aaron wants to be intimate with you tonight he's going to see much more of you than your bra.
He returns from the bathroom as you're pulling down your camisole. It's a simple pair of pyjamas but made of a more expensive fabric, the shorts bordering immodest and the camisole cupping your breasts with enough support that a quick glance in the mirror tells you what you'd wanted to know; you look cute. 
Aaron smiles at you, something unreadable in his expression. His brows lift ever so slightly. "Nice socks." 
"I get cold feet sometimes," you say, pressing your fuzzy heels together. 
"Yeah?" he asks, pushing his hair out of his face. "Me too." 
"What side do you sleep on?" you ask. 
"What side do you sleep on?" he asks back. "Go where you want." 
You pick a random side, too nervous to think about it in depth. The sheets are crisps to the touch and smell freshly laundered, soft against your naked legs. You feel a little like you're playing make believe all cleaned and washed yourself, your heart in your wrist as you squeeze it, watching him flick off the big light and cross the carpeted floor slowly. His room, his entire apartment, is smart but cosy, ambient lamp light and open space. 
"Do you wanna watch TV?" he asks, putting the remote in your lap as he shakes out the sheet and slips in next to you. His body heat is immediately felt. His knee brushes yours as he leans in. "Hold that button down." 
Despite what you'd said about cold feet, you're nervous and he runs warm; by the time you've found something to watch on TV he's sewn his arm through yours and you're practically running a temperature. You have to take your legs back out and lie atop the sheets. 
You pull a knee up. The shorts ease down. 
Aaron sinks into the bed with you, his head just a touch higher than your own. "I'm really happy you're here," he says. 
"I'm happy too," you say, turning your face to his. Nervous, sure, but this is a milestone for your new relationship you're ecstatic to achieve. 
Even if he doesn't have any seductive intention tonight, you're eager to spend the night in his arms. He's older (impossible to ignore), more gentlemanly as a consequence, and during the course of your relationship there have been more important things than sex, like establishing trust with one another, and making sure that your relationship could withstand his constant working. 
"I'm really happy," you say, lifting your chin and fireworks erupt in your chest as he leans down to meet you, kissing you gently. 
"Is this…" His hand trails to the soft of your stomach, pink brushing your thigh where it's hiked. "Your usual nighttime attire?" 
"This is the wanting my boyfriend to like it attire," you confess, because he already knows. Aaron knows everything. He could tell you where you bought them if you gave him long enough.
"Consider them true to form," he says, hand sliding like a heavy, hot weight across your stomach and leaving a worse heat behind. "You look amazing." 
"Yeah?" you ask. 
His lips skin your cheek. He nudges you with his nose to encourage your head back and kisses softly under the line of your jaw, "They're a little small," he says, kissing between whispers, "the shorts." 
"They're not tight," you whisper in turn. 
His hand falls to your thigh, spreading your legs a terrible inch as he tugs at the hem of your shorts. His fingertips dip under them a millimetre as he agrees, "No, they're not. Your top, though…" 
"It was a matching set. I couldn't choose–" 
"Do you have many like it?" he asks, pulling away, meeting your eyes with a charge you've only seen a handful of times. You know exactly what it means, your chest aching with want as his hand comes to rest at the top of your thigh. 
"Sure. Two or three." 
"That won't do." 
You're nervous, but he's your boyfriend. You know more about him than he might think even if you don't know him intimately yet, and his arduousness makes you laugh. He's always been such a gentleman —not many men would ask you to be their girlfriend with a pearl necklace, or invite you to stay the night via text rather than at the end of a date. You'd expected your first time together to be a come up for coffee situation, but he's never propositioned you that way. The text was a sweet surprise, an addition. 
Would you like to stay over after dinner on Friday? Let me know. Can't wait to see you either way. 
No matter what you want, Aaron wants that too. 
You turn into his lap and catch his lips with yours, his hand encroaching on the soft fat of your inner thigh. 
His lips part under yours and you take his face into your hands, a giving in if there ever were one, hoping it says everything you're too shy to admit aloud. No matter how much he clearly likes the shorts, he abandons your thigh and hugs your back to him instead, your chests pressed together until yours is heaving for air. 
"You're usually more subtle than this," you tease, breathless, good-natured. 
"You aren't usually wearing this," he says, his usually smooth voice roughened, "I'm losing my mind." 
"Well, we can't have that." 
He leans back in, laughing against your lips. When his hand works its way under your camisole, you think about where you can get more pyjamas like these ones considering he likes them so badly, but then his hand crawls higher and the thought leaves your mind for the time being. 
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theramblingvoid · 1 year
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Low level/continuous pain tips for writing
Want to avoid the action movie effect and make your character's injuries have realistic lasting impacts? Have a sick character you're using as hurt/comfort fodder? Everyone has tips for how to write Dramatic Intense Agony, but the smaller human details of lasting or low-level discomfort are rarely written in. Here are a few pain mannerisms I like to use as reference:
General
Continuously gritted teeth (may cause headaches or additional jaw pain over time)
Irritability, increased sensitivity to lights, sounds, etc
Repetitive movements (fidgeting, unable to sit still, slight rocking or other habitual movement to self-soothe)
Soft groaning or whimpering, when pain increases or when others aren't around
Heavier breathing, panting, may be deeper or shallower than normal
Moving less quickly, resistant to unnecessary movement
Itching in the case of healing wounds
Subconsciously hunching around the pain (eg. slumped shoulders or bad posture for gut pain)
Using a hand to steady themself when walking past walls, counters, etc (also applies to illness)
Narration-wise: may not notice the pain was there until it's gone because they got so used to it, or may not realize how bad it was until it gets better
May stop mentioning it outright to other people unless they specifically ask or the pain increases
Limb pain
Subtly leaning on surfaces whenever possible to take weight off foot/leg pain
Rubbing sore spots while thinking or resting
Wincing and switching to using other limb frequently (new/forgettable pain) or developed habit of using non dominant limb for tasks (constant/long term pain)
Propping leg up when sitting to reduce inflammation
Holding arm closer to body/moving it less
Moving differently to avoid bending joints (eg. bending at the waist instead of the knees to pick something up)
Nausea/fever/non-pain discomfort
Many of the same things as above (groaning, leaning, differences in movement)
May avoid sudden movements or turning head for nausea
Urge to press up against cold surfaces for fever
Glazed eyes, fixed stare, may take longer to process words or get their attention
Shivering, shaking, loss of fine motor control
If you have any more details that you personally use to bring characters to life in these situations, I'd love to hear them! I'm always looking for ways to make my guys suffer more write people with more realism :)
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thefreakandthehair · 4 months
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"Hey," Steve says, voice both firm and gentle as he holds both of Eddie's hands in his own. "Why are you panicking about this?"
"I'm not panicking, I'm just being realistic." Eddie shakes his head and avoids making eye contact, looking at the ground as though a complicated puzzle that requires solving has sprung up on in the patterned tiles of the record shop's floor.
Steve knows what this is about, but he also knows that calling Eddie out when he's dealing with Tornado Brain gets him nothing but more Tornado Brain and a brick wall. So instead, he just keeps Eddie's hands warm and still and waits. His boyfriend isn't one for silence, so it shouldn't take too long--
"How are you not freaking out right now? Our profits were like, half what we've been pulling since we opened."
There it is.
"Because it's Thanksgiving and the holiday rush is coming. Because I actually did pretty well in those stupid accounting classes at the community college and know that we have plenty banked up to balance out the slower months now and then. Ed," he squeezes Eddie's hands until Eddie finally meets his eyes, wide with eyebrows knitted between them. "It's gonna be okay, I promise."
"Guess I can't do anything but trust you, huh?" Eddie shrugs and the hint of a smirk ghosts his lips. "It's growing up poor, man. Makes you a little... obsessive? About money? Or, about not having enough? This shop was my idea and God, if it fails, you're in it with me now. I can't drag you down with a sinking ship--"
Steve pulls one of Eddie's hands up to his lips and kisses the back of it. Eddie quiets.
"I'd rather be on a sinking ship with you than land with anyone else, okay? And it's not gonna fail. No matter what, we're gonna be alright."
"Okay, fine. I'll believe you." Eddie's shoulders fall away from ears and an actual grin blossoms across his face. One of Steve's many favorite sights. "Fancy numbers guy."
Steve rolls his eyes and smiles, releasing Eddie's hands and leaning against the back of the counter. "And you love it."
"Mhm," Eddie hums, leaning forward to kiss him, soft and chaste. "Sure do. I'm gonna flip the sign to open but when we flip it closed tonight, I'll show you how much."
sometimes, you've gotta take your own freak outs and complexes and project them onto your favorite blorbos, right?
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omnicrafts · 8 months
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Y’all wanna get more chaotic with dpxdc batfam nonsense, instead of Danny knowing Alfred through his OWN time travel nonsense consider this;
Danny ends up at Wayne Manor for whatever plot reason and freeze frames seeing Alfred. Alfred raises one curious eyebrow and Danny blurts out with delight and bafflement,
“Hobson?!”
The batfam are now baffled, Danny’s practically vibrating in place, and Alfred just sighs in his fond way.
“It is good to see you well Master Daniel.” And then he’s got an armful of purring ghostboy.
Canonically Tim and Alfred play video Games together
Danny: You are going down dude. Come on, put up a fight. Ugh, I win. Again. Hobson, you stink at this game
Hobson: Beg pardon, Master Daniel. There was precious little gaming while I was a youth during the Blitz.
I’m pretty convinced Hobson knew about Danny being Phantom, given he easily and realistically could have overheard the trio’s argument over the giw and the robobuddies.
But also the exchange where he gives Danny advice that spurs him on to get involved?
Hobson: Care for a shake?
Danny: No thanks, Hobson. No appetite.
Hobson: Forgive me, Master Daniel. You seem a tad…bummed. Did your milkshake straw become clogged?
Danny: I'm just going through some stuff.
Hobson: Perhaps a rousing game of Caveman Car Thief would quicken the pulse.
Danny: I've played my games, bought tons of extra junk, counted my money. Again. It's just not…satisfying.
Hobson: Dare I say perhaps there is more to life than wealth. And what do you suppose your purpose might be Master Daniel.
Danny: Huh. Lately, um, being a rich jerk.
Hobson: Does that feel like the real you?
Danny: Not exactly.
Hobson: It seems to me your friends Tucker and Sam know the real you.
Danny: You think?
Hobson: Certainly more than those two automatons in your room. A good friend is like a good butler. Indispensible and loyal for life.
Danny: Thanks Hobson. Um, there's something the real me needs to help out with. Later. (Runs back and downs milkshake) Suddenly got my appetite back.
Hobson: Way to get your butler in gear sir.
Alfred is the only one who can call him Daniel and he doesn’t flinch or glower about it.
I’m losing it over Danny calling him Hobs casually and not getting corrected. (But only Danny; Alfred just looks at anyone else and raises an eyebrow) The first time someone without context hears it they’re kind of offended???
“Uh his names Alfred.”
“Yeah?? I mean we talked about it and he thinks it’s funny so…”
Alfred’s Alfred/Butler powers sensing when Danny’s mood drops and just arrives with some odd looking milkshake and Danny stammering about him not having to make him milkshakes anymore
“I’m poor again remember?”
“It truly is no hardship Master Daniel. Consider it On The House.” With a wink and little smile. Danny is delighted and it’s an adorable scene until someone asks it try it and it’s bacon and cheese puffs.
Tim: We have cheese puffs???
That absolute fucking Chaos that would be unleashed when Danny asks Alfred for some wild ass Milkshake combo like fucking chili pepper and oranger or some other wild ass combo and Alfred just Makes It. Danny so fucking delighted about it.
Bonus points if Alfred thought he had straight up been sent to a different world completely and so hadn’t thought anything of it until Daniel Fenton appears in front of him again.
I think Alfred should be allowed his own crazy adventures. As a treat.
I like to think that in this case Alfred was disguised as an older dude and now he actually IS an older dude.
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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that’s just the way things go * femdriver
when her and logan crash out in a race, well, now what?
pairings: sebastian vettel x femdriver, logan sargeant x femdriver
warnings: accidents, car crash
notes: i warned you all.
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
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-> canada, 2024
"ready, kid? one minute until the race starts," she hears sebastian in her ears. "everything good?"
she looks around her, trying to look at the grandstands with what little vision the halo provides her. typically, she'd not be able to hear the crowd cheering. but either something is up with her earphones, or one of her senses has heightened.
there has been an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she's not been able to shake off since she landed. there's a ringing in her head that's persistent all weekend.
"are you there?"
"yes, i'm sorry," she says quickly, perking up at the confusion in sebastian's words. "everything’s good.”
“is everything okay? you’ve had this worried look on your face all day,” sebastian states. “are you nervous? starting in the second row for the first time in f1?"
she looks to her side, noticing the ferrari mechanics working on charles’ car. she sighs and looks right up ahead at max’s red bull in front of her. diagonal to her is oscar’s car. “maybe it’s that. maybe i’m just nervous.”
“don’t worry about it, kid. i’ll be here.” she gets a feel for her steering wheel — the same one she’s had since she started last year. but for some reason, it didn’t feel great in her hands today.
her steering wheel doesn’t fit her palm today.
“let’s try and fight with the front row, alright? don’t let max get too far ahead.”
she breathes as the mechanics start to disperse. “i told max to always check his side view mirrors now that i’m behind him.”
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she drives out of the pitlane, watching the car passing her before she rejoins the track. "who is that in the williams? is that alex or logan?"
"logan," sebastian says. "he's got good pace, but you're faster than him. you can overtake him whenever you see fit."
"how much faster than him? can i overtake him this lap?" she asks.
"up to your discretion. if you think you've got enough pace to catch him eventually – you have the fresher tires."
"okay."
she tries, trying her best to catch up to the williams car. she grunts under her breath, stretching her shoulders as she braces herself to fight logan on the track again.
she smiles. she hasn't fought logan on the track in a while so this is a very nice change of scenery. she tries to fight it fair and square, but she's noticed – only now – that he's developed a different driving style from the one she's used to.
she concedes about three corners into the lap, trying to get used to logan's driving style before she makes the decision to pull an overtaking move that would push logan out of the podium spot. which, realistically, she doesn't want to do if she had the choice.
maybe she should just let logan have the podium? she's already had one for herself last year in singapore after all. but no, she can't do that. there's always been a mutual understanding that whatever happens on the track should be a separate entity from their friendship.
if she concedes and lets him have the podium, despite knowing that she could very well beat him on the track, she is lying to herself and logan. and oscar, who is ahead of logan.
whatever happens on the track, stays on the track.
she always comes close, only to have to pull away from the early braking point that logan seems to be pulling at.
"seb, i can't find an opportunity to get past logan," she speaks, turning on the radio. "i need you to help me out. he went to the alex albon school of defending, apparently."
sebastian laughs. "okay, just keep trailing behind him. i'll let you know when."
"okay."
the uneasiness has managed to creep up into her body again. she feels her grip around the steering wheel falter, and her legs lock up on her as she tries chasing after him. logan manages to keep her behind him for a couple of laps, probably 3 or 4 if she remembers it correctly.
but there's a corner that logan runs too wide. she changes gears, suddenly changing her mind about slowing down and taking it slow, stepping on the gas pedal and taking a dive between the williams and the side of the track.
"beautiful overtake, kid," sebastian speaks into her ears. "he's still very close. keep the position until the flag if you can."
"i'm not chasing oscar?" she frowns, glancing at her side mirror. "i can shake logan off at the series of corners ahead, i'm sure."
"okay, but no risky moves. play it safe because you're already guaranteed for a podium at this rate."
and she holds off logan, for the better part of the next lap. they've been fighting head to head for a while until she turns into the corner, deeper than she typically would have done to throw logan off. but it seems that he's caught up with her games because he's directly next to her.
but she's already trying to go for the next corner while his car is still trying to finish the previous one. and it happens very quickly.
his left front wheel is caught slightly by her right rear, sending both of them off track. and because she was going a little faster than him, she’s spinning out at a much quicker rate than he is.
she shuts her eyes, feeling her car being flung onto surface that doesn't feel like the track anymore. she lets go of the steering wheel and bunches herself up. why is she still spinning? it shouldn't be taking this long.
until she feels the car come to a rude halting stop, the side of her car completely buried into the barriers of the track. she heaves as she tries to process her crash. it isn't as bad as her crash the year before, head first into the barrier in the streets of baku at 200 kilometres an hour.
but she does know one thing. she doesn't know if this is what she's been dreading all day, but she's furious. despite the ringing in her ears and the growing pain in one side of her body, she starts climbing out of the car.
"are you okay?" she hears sebastian asking her.
she doesn't respond. she reaches up for the halo of her car to pull herself up and climbs out of the car. she's on too much adrenaline now that the crash happened. the pain is absolutely nothing to her right now.
she unclips her helmet and yanks it off along with her balaclava, approaching the blue car in the gravel next to hers. logan is already out of the car, slowly approaching her.
"it’s o-"
she throws her arms into the air. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"
logan tilts his head, only taking off his helmet now. "what?"
“yeah, what is wrong with you? you ruined our fucking race!” she scream, flailing her arms in the air. “why did you do that? you knew there was another corner i had to make a sharp turn for!”
“you went deep! you accelerated way too soon.”
“no, you hit your brakes way too soon! now we’re here! i don’t get my podium and you don’t get your fucking points either!” she turns away from him, wiping her face on the sleeves of her racesuit in frustration. “fuck you, logan!”
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a soft knock lands on the door, immediately being pushed open to reveal sebastian with a small smile. he has a paper bag in his hand and lifts it up to show her. “how are you feeling, kid?”
“fine,” she answers firmly, looking down at her phone. “have you seen liam? he’s supposed to be back with my twix bars by now.”
“he’s on his way back from the paddocks,” sebastian nods. “logan’s doing okay. mild concussion, from what james told me out in the hallway.”
she looks up from her phone, the anger in her eyes very prominent. it almost makes sebastian wish he hadn’t said anything in the first place. she furrows her eyebrows. “i don’t remember asking how logan is.”
“oh. you don’t want to know?”
“no.” she promptly goes back to texting on her phone, shaking her head. sebastian walks deeper into her room, careful not to agitate her more.
she puts her phone down on her lap and looks up. she takes a deep breath. “why would he do that, seb? not only did he ruin his own race, but he also ruined mine! why would he do that?”
sebastian shrugs. “i don’t know. i’m sorry. i’m sorry you had to retire from the race, kid. but it’s not his fault. things like these happen, you know?”
“not to me! not to us!” she rolls her eyes. “he’s so reckless for that! do you not think so?”
sebastian hums, patting her hand. “calm down, kid. i know you’re angry. but you and logan have been competing with one another half of your lives. don’t be like this.”
she shakes her head, moving her hand away from sebastian’s touch. she folds her arms over her chest. “he needs to apologise for ruining my race.”
“we’ll watch the playback later, okay? don’t jump into conclusions now. don’t ruin your friendship.”
“you’re saying there was possibility i caused the accident?”
“i don’t know yet. i immediately came to your side after the accident,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “please just get some rest. worry about this later.”
the door opens, revealing liam with mick trailing behind him. “oh, hey, logan’s-“
mick cuts himself short when sebastian’s head snaps to him, shaking his head profusely. mick’s lips form an ‘o’ shape as he slowly puts his attention to the silently raging girl on the hospital bed.
“we got your twix bars!”
“and a pepsi!” liam cheers, dancing over to her with a straw in his other hand. “blythe said she’s on the phone your parents, but once she’s done, she’ll come right back up here.”
she nods, returning her attention to her phone. she scoffs at the notification at the top of her screen, a text message from logan rolling in.
i’m not apologising this time
she scoffs and puts her phone down. she reaches out to liam. “give me my stupid pepsi.”
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wonwoonlight · 11 months
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when jeonghan realizes he's in love with you
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friends to lovers (??), fluff, i'm not sure there's even a plot lol. just got this sudden, random urge to write bc i was listening to dream (kor ver) earlier. not sure the wc bc i wrote it on tumblr but it's Short 🤍 not proofread. enjoy!
Jeonghan has always claimed he doesn't think he can date a friend.
It's weird.
And he's pretty emotional (romantic?) of a person, so if there's no spark from the beginning, it's likely that his brain has categorized that person as a friend and nothing else. No chance whatsoever that he'd develop romantic feelings in the future.
Though he's also realistic, so he admits that there might be a 0.1% possibility that he might suddenly like a friend romantically. Who knows, right?
But not you.
Not because he thinks you're lacking, but because you've been friends for too long that Jeonghan was sure that if, and only if, there was a possibility that he'd fall for you, it probably had long passed.
He's seen almost every side of you, so have you his. Hell, he's pretty sure he even treats you almost the same way he treats Seungcheol and Joshua; surely, there's no way, right?
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you glare, annoyed.
Jeonghan blinks owlishly; has he been staring at you? His eyes dart to your eyes and then down to your lips for half a second before he searches for your face, both intrigued and curious.
He doesn't register whatever's coming out of your lips, but is it just him or do you actually look flustered the more he stares at you?
"Jeonghan. Stop it."
"Why?"
"The right question is why are you staring at me!" You reaches out to turn his face elsewhere, your palm centimeters away from his cheek when he catches your wrist, his eyes still refusing to look at anything but you.
He sees you pout, and his mind suddenly thinks back about a talk he has with Seungcheol a few years ago, when his friend asked if he'd ever consider dating you because he thought you'd make a good pair.
You had pouted in disgust, told Seungcheol that it's gross to paint that kind of image between you and Jeonghan when you're clearly nothing but friends.
He didn't take that too personally, he remembers, he had simply laughed and agreed. But he also remembers glancing at your lips then, wondering how they'd feel against his, quickly removing the thoughts out of his mind because you're not supposed to think about friends that way.
"Will you be mad if I kiss you?"
Your eyes widen comically, and he would've teased you if he's in his usual mood. But he's not. And he wants to find out if there's a reason behind why he's been adamant about seeing your smile and wanting to stay close to you as much as possible.
"What? Are you drunk?"
"Will you?"
You pause for a second, your eyes searching for him, biting your lower lip before you shake your head no.
His thumb reaches for your lip so you'll release it from your teeth before he places his lips upon yours, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and the tips of his ears burning red.
The kiss (peck?) lasts for a short three seconds (or was it 3 minutes? He doesn't know, he can't think straight with you in this proximity). And when he pulls away, your breath warm against his face, he presses his lips together as if to see whether he can still feel you there or not.
"If you're making all that fuss just to kiss me." You whisper, avoiding his eyes despite the usual teasing tone Jeonghan's used to hear from you. "At least kiss me properly, will you?"
Jeonghan grins. If this is what being in love with your friend is like, perhaps it's not as bad as he thought it would be.
For the first time, he doesn't mind at all being wrong as long as he gets to be with you.
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chaethewriter · 10 months
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You're dead to me [11]
Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
A/N: at last, I'm back. It's been a while since I looked back at an "x reader" this satisfied. I'm still trying my best getting back into writing frequently, so I'm still looking and stuff. Either way, enjoy and tell me when you think. <3
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Drip. Tap. Crack.
A killing silence filled the room. Your siblings had left the space, as well as Norm, leaving you alone in the (dis)comfort of your father's presence. His breath was heavy as he lied there, on the operating table. Elbows resting behind him, keeping his body up. You sat next to him in one of those uncomfortable folding chairs. The ones you sat on during birthday parties, when it was too crowdy and the usual seats were occupied. You didn't know what you thought when you has begged Neteyam to bring you here, no plan on mind other than knowing your father was fine.
Drip. Tap. Crack.
The silence was deafening.
Killing you inside. Slowly.
"I didn't know what I would have done if you..." his voice was hoarse as he spoke. Which was understandable, coming from someone risen from the death. You scoff under your breathe, shaking your head in the progress as you knew the end of his sentence.
"You... you were the one that.. you..", you had a hard time forming that sentence, so you just settled on the most obvious one, hoping that the conversation could from out of it.
"why did you do it?"
A stupid question in Jake's eyes. What did you mean why? Why he protected you? Wasn't it obvious why he did so?
"I'm your father."
You scoffed again. One that held more grudge into the tone, "You're also their father."
And the conversation you hoped to start, had started. A conversation that was inevitable. A conversation that was needed in order to maintain a healthy relationship among a family. A conversation only you could start and hope to end well.
He didn't answer your comment, keeing his mouth sealed and watching you from the operation table, a side eye. Not a judging expression, but one that held shame. As if deep down he knew what you meant.
"You have been treating your children so.. horribly. The pressure on Neteyam, the punishments for Lo'ak, no attention flashed to Tuk and Kiri is basically a ghost. And then I come along, after not seeing me for two decades and you treat me like your only daughter? Do you know how that makes them feel? How that makes ME feel?"
You gasp for air as the words leave your lips in one sentence. During this, you watch your father's expression. His gaze was now on his lap. Ashamed of himself. Tommy's words already made him realize how he had been acting, but hearing them from a living person, hearing them from you, was so much different. So much more realistic than talking to a dead person in his head.
"You threw your kids even more to the side when I entered the picture. It made me feel so cruel, as if I stole their father away. Since I had missed that father figure as much as they do. The only person that had a father figure was Tuk and it was Neteyam. God dad, he's only fifteen! He should be a kid, not a father figure to his own sister!"
That cracked his heart, but you didn't care for the moment. You had to make him realize what kind of person he became. Only then, when that realization settled in, could all of you heal and continue forward.
"Neteyam is fifteen.. do you know how young that is? That would be highschool on earth! And even if Na'vi age works differently, he's still a boy! He should be growing up properly, have free time and hang out with teenagers his age. He shouldn't be babysitting 24/7 while still being a kid himself, that's your job. He should be your son first, and the future Olo'eyktan second."
Your eyes had teared up once again at the sight of Neteyam's hurt, his exhaustion, the smile that quite didn't reach his eyes.
You continued.
"You're so terribly hard on Lo'ak. He's reckless, always causing trouble which makes him the center of attention." You chuckled soft at your own words, "but have you ever wondered why he acts this way? Have you EVER went up to him, put your arm around his shoulders and asked if he was alright? Instead of always cutting him off? You spend so much time doing other stuff and when you turn to Lo'ak it's for punishng him. He just wants your attention, as his father. Do you know how damaging it is that he accepts that he could only grab your attention by doing stupid stuff?"
No, you weren't done yet.
"Tuk and Kiri. Such beautiful girls with kind hearts. Smart too, they know what they want. Do you know how they like to spend their free time?"
You tilted your head to the side, pursed lips as you awaited his answer. That never came and it only showed your words right. It honestly made you scoff in embarrassment.
"And after treating all your beautiful children like crap, you took me in like I was the only person in the world. You cared for me, set your attention on me and you thought that was right?"
You slowly got up from your, shaking your head furiously, "if this is the way you're going to parent... then I don't even want to call you my dad."
"I hate you papa!!" You sobbed loudly as you hugged your knees to your chest, soft whines leaving your lips with snot dripping down your nose. Your father hadn't been paying attention to you in a week. You were a very independent child. You could make yourself cereals and a cup of lemonade, but you needed that emotional connection. Something you hadn't gotten from anyone in days. He had been stressed, spending his hours with his nose buried in the screen and drinking away during his free time. You understood he was busy, but he had a full child at home, in need of attention. Without the proper attention you needed, you had thrown your tantrums. Throwing pillows, ripping folders and trying to empty the loads of vodka bottles in the cupboards. He had tried to ignore those silly tantrums of yours, just assuming it was because you're young. Yet when you emptied a bottle of alcohol on the floor, because you missed the sink with your tiny short legs, hell broke lose. He had screamed at you and grabbed harshly at your forearms, something he promised himself to never do to you. When he let go of you out of the horror of his own reaction, you had crawled to a corner out of fear, crying your heart out as the words escaped your lips. 'I hate you, daddy.' The words echoed through his head, like a taunt of how bad of a father he had been to you for the past days. His hand rested on the wheels of his wheelchair as he made his way towards you, slowly yet steadily. You had sobbed that you wanted him to stay away, since he was good at that up until a moment ago.
"I'm so sorry baby.." he took you in his arms, on his lap despite your punching and screaming. He held you, hugging you close, allowing you to punch and scream your frustrations out. It seemed to help, as your sobs slowed down, as well as your aggressive punching. With you cuddled up in his lap, he rolled towards the kitchen and took his two biggest bottles of alcohol in his hands. He nudged you and you looked up at him, a clear frown on your face as you saw him holding the familiar bottles. Your father smiled at you, uncapping the bottles and emptying its contents into the sink. You watched him, loud squeals leaving your lips as you smacked at the bottle while he did so. You didn't know what alcohol was, but you knew that when your daddy touched it, he wasn't your daddy anymore.
"Missed daddy.."
"I missed you too baby.. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, for everything." Parallels. Ironic. Your father had grabbed your hand, keeping you from walking (crawling due to your injuries) away. The words left his lips with a hitch, a soft breath that was stuck in his throat. You turn your head at his words, wondering if you heard them well. Jake had pulled you towards him, sitting on the same table as him.
"I'm sorry." His words were firm now, determined, laced with confidence. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for putting you in a tough position on Pandora. I'm sorry for being unfair to the family I called my fortress. I'm sorry for tearing this family apart. I'm sorry for letting you down during your entire life." He didn't know what he wanted to reach with his apologies, but the moment they left his lips it felt as if a weight lifted from his chest. As if he could talk about it all now, with you.
"I wanted the best for us two, I wanted you to grow up well, without problems. Get into the besr schools, a job to live comfortably without worrying about money.. but I needed money to fulfill this wish. So I left. I left for a job that could pay for everything you needed. I left with the promise I would return, but I-"
"But you didn't." You cut him off, lips quivering as the tears continued to pool, "you forgot about the promise and left me alone."
He shook his head in response, "I didn't forget, oh eywa, I could never. I was.. ashamed? I went against my biological people and I didn't get money I promised to get you. I failed as a dad, I thought I didn't deserve to see you anymore.. so I stayed. I stayed and it was wrong of me to do so." His hand made their way to your wrists as he pulled you close to him, hugging you tight as if you would disappear were he to let you go.
"I now see how wrong this was of me. I should have asked you about it. What you thought, what you wanted. You were so young, yet you knew exactly what you wanted. I should have remembered how smart of a girl you were and still are. It was wrong of me to make that decision on my own."
It all came crashing down on you. All of a sudden, you were a clueless child again. That same clueless child from over a decade ago. The same child that cried to her hearts content as she came to know that her daddy left her without an explanation and didn't return. You cried at his chest, clawing at his blue skin as he craddled you like a baby. His baby, his daughter.
"It must have been confusing for you, suddenly being on a new planet and your dad unrecognizable to you. Then suddenly he pulls you in once he knows who you are to him, never directly speaking about everything that had happened.." there was no point in apologizing anymore. He could only understand, learn and be a better father for you. Only through his actions, he could apologize truthfully.
It was quiet for a while. A comfortable silence. Not the killing, awkward silence that filled the room not so long ago. The only thing heard were your soft sobs, as well as the soft kisses of reassurance that were pressed against your hair. Jake was loss in thoughts, wondering what he should say next. He knew he had to start about what you had said, about your siblings, about his kids.
But where could he possibly start?
He didn't want to fuck up again. He had to think carefully of what to say next.
"What about Teyam, Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuk?" Your voice cracked, hurt laced in your voice as you spoke. The mention of their names cracking something within Jake.
"They..." he took a deep breath, before continuing, "I projected my fears on them. I never got to fulfill the dreams I had for you and I projected that on Neteyam. He has an amazing future ahead of him, but I let my fears consume me. He's so talented, but he's incredibly young and he's missing out on his childhood. Him having fun won't change the way he acts. He has always been intelligent and very thoughtful."
You nodded your head in agreement and he could feel it against his skin. "Teyam's incredible, but he deserves a breather from time to time. I promise you, he won't slack off."
With that, Jake had to agree.
"Lo'ak.. reminds me of myself. Reckless, a headless chicken even." The both of you chuckle at that statement and Jake looked back at his first year on Pandora. He was reckless, stupid, embarassing.
"I see myself in him. Like someone chasing you in a dream, but you can't get away. It reminded me of my past mistakes, so I punished him in the hopes to witness his improvements. I never looked at it from a bigger perspective. He must have wondered why his dad treated him like shit.." he huffed at the irony of it all.
"Speak to him, spend time with him. Teach him the things you teach Teyam. Believe me, you will notice improvements in your relationship."
He nodded in agreement at your words.
"Kiri, Tuktirey. My beautiful girls.. I don't know why I barely bat an eye to them. Could it be because it reminded me of you? That it hurt to spend time with them out of shame for how I treated you? Or because I was too busy with my role as Olo'eyktan? I don't know, but it wasn't right of me. They don't deserve that treatment of being disregarded."
You smile at him, your father. Proud for finally speaking his heart out. "You should tell them, you know? Speak with them. Make things right. I know confronting the problem at hand might be hard, but you're the leader of an entire clan. This is supposed to be easy for you." You almost teased him for having an easier time being the leader of a clan while at war than being a father to a family.
He then gripped at your forearms. It wasn't a hard grip, more out of desperation. "I will make it right. Not only for you, but for my kids and mate, as well. I want to make it right with my family, so please, stay as well. Even if this might be a selfish request of me. You are my daughter, OUR daughter. And you have four siblings that accepted you faster than ever. So please, stay."
You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn't have much left on earth, expect the colonel. Would she be angry with you if you decided to stay? Just like you were angry with your dad? Or would she be proud that you had finally found the happiness you deserved?
Was it okay for you to be selfish?
A frown made its way on your voice as you look up at him, "but I don't belong here. I'm a human."
Did you yourself even believe that statement? There were a lot of humans left on Pandora, whom even lived among the people.
"You're just trying to convince yourself that you don't belong here so that you won't feel guilty." You scoffed. He could read you like a book.
"You belong here, with us. You know?"
You didn't reply. Instead, you wrapped your arms around father, squeezing the life out of him. Who would have known that such a small girl like you could hold him so tightly?
"Babygirl.. honey.." Jake gasped for air, his arms stuck in your tight embrace as he couldn't reach for his mask. You quickly pull away from him, watching him take a hold of the mask at his bedside and taking a deep whiff of Pandoran air.
You watch the entire ordeal in low chuckles.
Everything would be better now.
It has to be.
COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS <3
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cheriladycl01 · 4 months
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You're a dick Stroll! - Lance Stroll x Engineer! Reader
Plot: You created the best car for the 2024 season however after some harsh comments from Lawrence Stroll about a female engineer having been the reason his son crashed out in Bahrain turns out after investigations from the FIA people owe you an apology!
A/N: Obviously this is fanfic so its dramatized so in no way does this portray anyone in a realistic light and is just for the drama and the vibes.
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"You innovations have been amazing this year Y/N all thanks to that brain of yours!" Mike Krack the team Principle for Aston Martin tells you, holding either one of your shoulders shaking them in delight at the new car in front of him.
You had been at Silverstone working as the lead mechanic/ designer on the new car throughout the last half of the 2023 season.
"Thank you, but you know it was a team effort right?" you smiled back, it really was a team effort.
"Well, we actually wanted to offer you a promotions of sorts!" he exclaimed a look of shock crossing your face.
"Excuse me?"
"We figured that you know the car the best and we want you travelling with us to make adjustments as and when needed. Last year was a struggle when we didn't have you here, you are the quickest we've seen and having you on the road with the team would really help.
"This is amazing, yes I'll do it!" you exclaimed happy that you were finally able to travel around the world with Aston Martin.
A month later and you were in Bahrain for pre-season testing of the 2024 year, everything was looking good on both the car, they were running well and the data figures looked good to you and your team.
You'd stayed late with a few other team members making sure everything was ready for the most important Sunday of the year, this race was the one that usually set the drivers mentality for the year. Nobody wanted to crash in the first race and no-one wants to not make it into the points.
You left, once you'd finished your checks on both cars, some people still working around.
"Okay, I'm off guys and ill see you for the big day tomorrow!" you smiled at them before heading back to the hotel that Aston Martin had placed you in. It wasn't a long ride, and you splurged on an Uber considering how much overtime you'd just done in the garage.
You did share a hotel with the drivers, as one of the lead engineers in Aston Martin you got the privilege of the nicer hotel compared to some of your colleagues.
As you entered, you could see some of the drivers sat in the bar, Lando Daniel, Max and his girlfriend Kelly were all sat together taking pictures, obviously for the .jpg accounts.
Charles, Pierre, Carlos and Lewis were also there sat at the bar, drinks in hand. However, with your attention directed elsewhere you felt yourself bump into something.
"Oh my gosh I am so sorry" you exclaimed looking towards the person you had bumped into that was now holding your forearm as if to steady you so you didn't fall back.
"It's er okay, you seemed distracted are you... okay?" you hear the person ask and look up to see your teams youngest driver.
"Oh Lance I'm so so sorry!" you say noticing it was him.
"It's okay" he says awkwardly before shuffling off. You watch as he walks up to Alex and George who were also sat with one another. You continue up to your floor before showering and passing out in your bed.
The next day your alarm was set extremely early, you came straight to the track having gotten ready in a record speed time. Your hair was whipped up in a ponytail and you'd nearly put your green Aston Martin team top on back to front.
You got to the track for when Mike told you to meet him there, he wanted you the radio engineers and the strategists to all talk before the race. Considering it was only 7.30 in the morning there were already loads of people in the paddock, from all different teams.
Where it was your first time you didn't know the protocol or anything for greeting other teams, so you just stayed your typical friendly self sending a smile and wave to everyone that you passed and made eye contact with.
Once you'd got into hospitality Ben Mitchell, Chris Conin and Peter Hall were all there, Peter held a coffee out to you with a small smile.
"Thanks" you smiled before you all started to talk about the race ahead, you guys checked the weather patterns and the track temp before trying to plan the race for both drivers.
By the time you'd done your final checks it was time for the race. Lance had placed P7 the day before and Fernando had placed P10 which was an amazing start to the year for Aston Martin.
"How's the car looking?" the social media girl asked, she was looking at the screen of data rolling in from the car but not understanding what the figures actually meant.
"It's performing phenomenally. Its definitely better than last year. Its also original and completely initiative, I've heard Horner and Vasser talking about it!" you explain having heard them interviewing about the grid and a little season preview.
She nods, and you talk a little before she leaves to go and try and film some social media stuff while there isn't too much excitement on the track.
However only 2 laps later Lance was reporting his breaks being stiff, which from the figures looked to be impossible. Before his race engineer could even ask for your advice, Lance went into a turn too quick skidding off the side taking Gasly with him. You looked up at the screen in shock, a hand covering your mouth.
Lance's car had gone sideways before flipping over Gasly's car. Lance and Gasly were both out of the race.
"What the hell happened!" Lawrence screaming coming over to you, all the pit crew who had just pulled Fernando's car in stopped what they were doing and came over to you.
"Sorry?" you asked pulling the headphones off genuinely not having heard him.
"What happened! Your the engineer who was here late last night. What did you do to my sons car, he's an impeccable driver and he has DNFed because YOU cant do your job" he screamed and you flinched taking a wide step back.
"Look i didn't do anything, I wasn't even the final engineer here last night. I think he was just unlucky sir" you tried to explain, but his face like thunder had you a stuttering and stumbling mess.
"Yes you did! Just admit you either sabotaged the car on purpose or your so damn incompetent at your job that you didn't build the car right! You know you should be fired for this, its completely unacceptable and I'll be speaking to Mike about having you removed because you clearly" he starts but one of the crew members behind decided enough was enough and stepped in front of you.
"Hey, sir with all dew respect there are camera's everywhere in here recording so just think about your image" he directs and Fernando having finally got out of his car and having seen what happened to you.
"Lawrence, i think its best that you take a step back" Fernando advises seeing how close he had gotten to you.
Instead he just storms out of the paddock, you release a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding in everyone swarming round you take make sure you were okay.
BREAKING NEWS: FIA LAUNCH INVESTIGATION INTO HEAD OF ENGINEERING AT ASTON MARTIN AFTER STROLL CRASH VIDEO OF LAWRENCE STROLL RIPPING INTO Y/N Y/LN HEAD OF ENGINEERING AT ASTON MARTIN INTERVIEW WITH LAWRENCE STROLL AND MIKE KRACK GETS HEATED AFTER INVESTIGATION LAUNCHED
It only took 4 hours for the public to find out who you were and your social media handles as you had a few people following you. One of which was McLaren who you had worked for under an apprenticeship scheme.
The only thing you really wanted right now was have a drink, so the hotel bar where you were certain would be safe from the public eye. You came down from your hotel room, you weren't in anything fancy and felt out of place the minute you sat down at the bar. Most of the drivers were there celebrating wins, or drinking away the loss.
It was like you had this beeper on you, as when you entered the room and walked to the bar all the drivers seemed to notice you. I mean it wasn't hard, your hair was thrown up in a ratty bun and your eyes were red from having read all the hate messages sent to your inbox.
"She's the one they're investigating because of Stroll's crash! His dad went in on her after the race"
The whispers all around you from people in the bar had you shrinking in your seat.
"So your the one that made me crash!" Lance exclaims from behind you, you turn round seeing his face, angry and upset and expression nobody liked.
"Look, I didn't do anything to the -" you start but are slowly interrupted.
"No you did, you know nothing and you shouldn't be in this job! Everything they are saying about you online is true, you could have killed me and Pierre because of that accident. So careless!" he shouts, which shocked the other drivers as Lance wasn't really one to raise his voice.
"Please Lance, I've already had enough..."
"No, you haven't had enough! You shouldn't be in this sport if you cant build a car properly, it's shit! It's not powerful and you clearly cant build a car like Andre last year!" he says, you could tell he was getting frustrated and it made you take a step of your seat.
"You're a dick Stroll! Andre didn't build the car. I did that's why i took the position this year as he wasn't performing as Head Mechanic so yeah. I didn't do anything to the car, the data was fine maybe you just are as good as a driver as you seem to think you are" you say before storming out of the bar.
Two weeks later, where you'd lazed around all day at home was when you'd got that expected call. You were currently on suspended leave where you were still under investigation. Mike had been facetiming you on and off asking for help to try and speed up the pace of fixing the car before Saudi Arabia GP.
It was in fact Mike calling again, however this time he was telling you to open up any socials and see what the FIA had posted.
CHECKS HAVE BEEN CONDUCTED INTO THE ASTON MARTIN CRASH SHOWING HEAD ENGINEER IS NOT LIABLE AND HAS SERIOULSY BEEN MISSTREATED - FIA FIA COME OUT WITH EVIDENCE THAT ASTON MARTIN HEAD ENGINEER IS NOT TO BLAME FOR STROLL'S SAKHIR CRASH - SKYSPORTS CLEARED FOR DUTY Y/N Y/L/N TO MAKE RETURN AT JEDDAH - F1
"Are you serious?" you say, the first piece of enjoyment in your life in the last few weeks has just occurred.
"Yes, we need you on the first flight out to Saudi, someone's waiting for you at Heathrow to bring you" he exclaims, you jump up cutting the call short and start to rush, packing a bag by slinging clothes in it not bothering to fold. You make sure your uniform is all packed as well as the essentials before running out the door and running to the train station.
You came into the terminal, shooting a text to Mike, not knowing who to be looking for. You look around to see if you can see one of the other mechanics or maybe Mike's personal assistant but you come short.
"Come on Mike" you whisper to yourself looking at your phone.
"Y/N?" you hear from behind you. You knew that Canadian voice all to well.
"Lance?" you ask with a slight sneer to your tone, you were still angry and upset with him and his father for jumping to such outrageous conclusions.
"Mike wants you there asap, so I suggested you come with me" he says guiding you down a secure back path to where it leads out to the jets.
"Your kidding me right?" you ask as he walks you out onto the den where his dad's private jet is waiting.
"We needed you there as soon as possible the car is in literal pieces without you there!" he exclaims, having heard from his father than things had been slow in the garage.
"Well, do you now trust me to build you an effective car?" you ask halting your steps, you didn't want to work with him anymore if you didnt have his trust. Throughout your suspension you had both McLaren and Mercedes reach out to you offering you a job with them once it all blew over.
"I do trust you, I just got angry when i crashed the car in the first race of the season, my dad blamed it on you and to me that seemed the most logical. I am sorry for what its worth" he says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"For what its worth... you're still a dick. But i think i can put up with that" you smile, before following him over to the pane ahead.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
leveling the playing field VI
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing
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a/n: omg it finally happened?? i couldn't resist anymore i had to :,)
anyway i wanted to pop in for a rare note and say thank you so so much to everyone reading this!! it means so much to me that people are enjoying this as much as i am enjoying writing it :)
so if you are and you wouldn't mind,, please reblog or leave your thoughts in the replies! it really helps me out so that way it can reach more people, and also it really helps motivate me to actually keep writing it bc i'll be reminded people want me to :).
thank you for reading this long ass authors note! and thanks for making it this far in the fic!! 
i promise it's not over yet ;) we've still got a long way to go! so hopefully i'll see y'all soon when the next part comes out !
xoxo, raye
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You walked back to the academy, still too high on adrenaline to even consider sleeping at that point. By the time Coryo made it back in, it was nearly eight am. You totally understand him wanting to get a bit of extra sleep, considering the night you just had- but who knows how long he was with Dr. Gaul.
Other mentors had started to arrive before he did, and almost everyone made it clear they didn't want to speak with you. You didn't have the energy to chat anyway, you didn't want to. You're endlessly relieved when Coryo arrives, notifying you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder. You jump at this, regardless of his effort to not scare you.
The chair scrapes across the floor and you feel everyone's eyes on you at the dramatic reaction. To him, it really wasn't shocking.
"Sorry- I'm sorry." You chuckle, quickly getting up to give him his spot back.
"Have you slept?" He asks, making no effort to reclaim the desk, noticing how your hands are shaking as you motion for him to sit.
You aren't sure what the safer answer is. Yes, I slept while I was supposed to be watching over Lucy Gray? Or no, I'm still running on the two hours I got a couple of days ago? Neither is very promising, so you decide to just be honest.
"No, uh, I've been watching for Lucy Gray." You point to the screen, unable to control the trembling of your hand as you do. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, so I just decided to start drinking coffee a few hours ago. Might as well commit." You explain, trying to force positivity into your tone and a smile on your face.
Coryo eyes you warily. "You should go home. Get some rest."
"No! No, I'm fine." You insist. "I'm not missing it."
"Go home and sleep." He says again, sternly this time. You tend to listen to him when he's commanding so he clung to that approach, but the look in your eyes immediately makes him regret it.
You look down, then back to your seat on the bench. You take a shaky breath before locking eyes with the blonde again. You're full of impulses that contradict each other. To listen to him, to snap and tell him not to speak to you like that, or to storm out and never come back. Realistically, he is under a ridiculous amount of stress. You can't blame him for being a little commandeering. After all, it's what he is meant to do. It's what he's been raised for. "I told you. I can't."
Realization dawns on him and he stares at you for a second, eyes widening. "Right." He nods slightly, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. "Just go lay down on the bench." He accentuates his point by shaking the jacket.
You smile, taking it gratefully. "Thank you, Coryo."
"'Course." He nods, finally moving to sit down once you walk away. You settle down on the bench and curl up, your head resting on his bunched-up uniform jacket like it's a pillow. You're not sure you've ever been so comfortable, and you're asleep within a minute.
Coriolanus wonders if his coat will smell like raspberries when you return it.
"What's he doing?" You hear Coryo's accusatory voice before you even open your eyes. As you try and shift, adjusting to the sounds of everyone around you, you come back to reality. No wonder your neck is sore as soon as you sit up, sore from your wooden bed, with no time to really wake up before you're hit with the realization of what's happening on the screen.
"I-I don't know!" Lysistrata says, assumingly replying to him.
You're squinting at the lights as you adjust, the figures of Lucy Gray and Jessup becoming clear as he chases her in her rainbow dress out of the tunnel and across the floor, booking it toward a pile of debris that would allow her to climb up into the stands.
"What's happening?" You ask pointlessly, standing now that you see Coryo is as well.
Lysistrata looks at you, shrugging helplessly as she stands next to Coryo.
"Hey! You promised me that if I-" You start, pacing toward the girl with determination, anger burning up in your chest and in your eyes.
"Y/N/N, wait-" Coriolanus holds his hand out to stop you, effectively his attack dog, from getting any closer. From telling her off for blowing your deal. He squints closer at the screen, not saying a word, just leaving you in a limbo- unsure what to do.
As the camera zooms in on the tribute, his theory is confirmed. Jessup has a white foam surrounding his mouth, and Coryo looks at you knowingly. Had Lucy Gray poisoned him? Surely not, he was her only ally. It was too early to take him out, but maybe she didn't think that through, maybe-
"Rabies." You say, hardly above a whisper, eyes locked back on the screen now as well. "That's why the medications didn't help."
Coriolanus is relieved by this explanation, it makes so much more sense. But only knowing what's wrong doesn't help Lucy Gray, Jessup is still fully feral, chasing her up in the stands on wobbly legs as she makes her way to what is left of a concession stand.
"If she can just stay away, he won't last long in this state." Lysistrata says, looking on with sadness in her eyes. "Poor Jessup..."
"Coryo." You say, ignoring her sympathies, seeing Coryo's mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. "Do you remember those posters in the war? When the rabies breakout happened?" You ask, holding onto his arm, giving him a light shake to snap him out of it. "They said that-"
You don't get to finish before he's reaching for the comunicuff. Water, of course.
"Wait." Lysistrata stops him, grabbing the arm that was reaching for the screen.
"Don't touch him! Jessup's going to die anyway! All we can do is try to keep him away- you just said that!" You fire off at her.
"I know, Y/N." She lets him go, holding her hands out defensively. "Let me do it. He's my tribute, after all."
"Lyssie... You don't have to do that." Coriolanus tells her, and you feel guilty for snapping on her like that. She was just trying to help.
"If Jessup can't win, I want it to be Lucy Gray. That's what he would want, too." She explains, stepping back to her desk, tapping away at the screen and sending in water bottles on faulty drones that are more likely to knock the tributes out and smash the bottle than successfully deliver it to their hand.
Thankfully, this is what you want. You watch quietly as Jessup is bombarded with drones programmed to seek out his features, and Lucy Gray drops behind some of the seats to avoid any flying glass or stray drones. He swings helplessly at them with a board he picked up somewhere along the chase, and you glance at Lyssie for only a second, which is long enough to pick up on the fact that she's crying. God, that's probably your fault.
He trips and falls off the stands, bones audibly cracking on impact. Everyone in the room is silent as Lucy Gray reemerges, climbing down to be at his side.
"God, please don't let him die alone..." Lysistrata whispers, hardly audible even to Coriolanus, who's stood right next to her.
"She won't." He whispers back. "It's not her style."
You swallow, drowning in your own guilt while Lucy Gray is talking to the dying boy, stroking his hair and telling him to go to sleep until his eyes lose all sense of life, chest halting. She closes his eyes gently, which cues the buzzer announcing his death.
"Lyssie..." You stop her as she stands to leave, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what you were doing."
She laughs slightly, more tears spilling from her eyes. "Y/N. I know you, okay? I get it. Don't apologize if you don't mean it." Until she finished speaking, you didn't realize her laughs were bitter. "You can't keep taking out your anger issues on everyone else. I'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it- sick of you." She says, not giving you the chance to defend yourself before she's gone. You did mean it, but it's not like she'd ever believe that. You had done this to yourself.
You straighten your shoulders, turning to face the screen again. "Lysistrata will come around." Coryo says, sensing the tension radiating off your skin like a heater.
You just slightly shake your head. "Maybe I... Maybe I should go home. Just for a bit." You say, but it comes out more as a question.
"You should stay." He states, offhandedly sending some food in for Lucy Gray before turning to face you fully. He could guess why you don't want to go home, whether or not you were explicitly told to not return until the games were done, though, he doesn't know. Either way, for him, it wasn't worth the risk.
"Actually, yeah, you're right." You sniff. "I'm just having a moment. I'll be fine." You force a smile, blinking rapidly to push back those stubborn tears that wanted to spill.
"No, no that's not what I meant. I just meant..." Coryo trails off.
"It's okay." You smile and nod. "Can I just get some air, then? I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Please. Don't rush on my account." He nods. "But don't stray too far."
"Yes sir, Mister President." You joke, giving him a lazy salute before heading for the door.
You had been gone for a while, far too long for Coriolanus's comfort. Lucy Gray retreated into the tunnels after receiving the food he sent and seeing Reaper come back into the clearing. Now, with Lucky rambling on about the weather again, he felt like he would snap.
He double-checks once more that Lucy Gray is, in fact, still hiding, before he gets up to go after you.
It doesn't take Coryo long to find you, due to him tracking down the sound of crying in the hall. No doubt in his mind it was you, but he'd never seen you cry before.
You stop at the sound of footsteps, frantically wiping your eyes and nose on your sleeve as you make an effort to stand. By then, he's in front of you.
"Don't get up." He says, crouching down in front of you. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know exactly why you're crying, or how to help. He wishes he did, he would do just about anything. "What do you need?"
You shake your head, forcing a smile and trying to stand anyway. Coryo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. "I-I don't.." You start, but as soon as you speak the tears start flowing again and you feel like you can't breathe.
"It's okay. Hey, you're okay." He says, pulling you into his arms, effectively onto his lap as he sits back. One thing he knows that works with you is a hug- it's all he can do while he thinks over what could be the root of your problem, or was it just that Lysistrata's comment pushed you over the edge? You were overtired, overworked, and this easily could have been the last straw.
Through your tears, you try to tell him that you're fine, but you just stutter and spit and you know you're a mess- a mortification to your family.
"I'm not sick of you, Y/N." Coryo says, rubbing your back. Feeling your hair between his fingers and trying not to tangle it or pull it by mistake. "I could never get sick of you."
It surprises him when you laugh. Of all things, a laugh. It was just so you.
His statement was more of a confession to himself than to you, and when you pull back he's scared. Was it not about that? Was he way off base, or incredibly unhelpful and somehow offended you?
You sniff, wiping your eyes again. "Thanks," You chuckle, shaking your head. "But you don't have to say that."
Coryo tilts his head, confusion knitted into his expression. "I do." He insists, able to look into your eyes now. "I have to tell you that because it's the truth."
You sigh, smiling slightly. Sadly. "You don't see it."
"See it? See what?"
You just shrug, making no attempts to move away. His hands on you, the feeling of him almost surrounding you is comforting. You want to live in it forever, but you know you can't. "Just... That I'm me, I guess." You say, voice cracking. "You're unflinching to it." You're abrasive sometimes, defensive, and some would call you an overall angry person. He doesn't see you that way, and you're not sure why. Today you were slapped in the face with the fact that your actions have consequences more serious than what your parents can make up for with money or unwritten agreements.
"What's wrong with being you?" He asks rhetorically, not giving you a chance for you to argue before he continues. "You did the right thing. They're jealous- that's all it is. None of them fight for what they want like you, they just sit around and wait for it to be handed to them on a silver platter, and you could too, but you're better than that. You're better than them. Stronger than them."
With his hands now moved up to your shoulders, he's shaking you gently, trying to get your mind to soak in what he's telling you. To believe it, because he knows he's right. The reason others avoid you is the very reason he is drawn to you- your ambition is unmatched, except, maybe, by his own.
"Do you understand, Y/N?" Coryo asks, pressing one hand to your cheek and staring deep into your eyes as if he could somehow look into your mind and grab hold of what Lysistrata said, replacing it with his vision of who you are. "You are perfect. They are fools."
Your smile had gone, ready to fight his point, but it returned by the time his rant was done, blush creeping its way across your cheeks and over your nose. "Perfect is a bit of a strong word." You speak softly. "Don't you think?"
"No. I don't." He shakes his head slightly, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.
The air became thick with everything he said circulating in your head like a carousel. A relentless spinning cycle with Coryo's every word circling around itself and caging in your panic. The spinning seemed to slow after a moment, as if giving you a chance to catch your breath.
Seemingly, in your experience with him, compliments were few and far between. To others, anyway. Not that you were keeping track, but if receiving compliments from Coriolanus Snow was a race you would be winning by a mile, and that's exactly what it felt like every time.
He tilts your chin up again, the same way he had just a couple of days ago in the arena, drawing your eyes back to his. It takes every ounce of his focus to keep his hand from shaking.
Truth be told, the desperate honesty in his eyes was enough to convince you he was right. You are better than them, smarter than them, stronger than them. If Lysistrata and your other classmates chose to hate you for that, that was because of fear. You'd be lying if you tried to say it didn't make you feel better, even powerful. Coriolanus thought it was right, so how could it not be?
You smile, nodding slightly within his grasp. "You're right, aren't you?"
"Always." He validates your entire thought process just like that.
You can't help it anymore. The power of his words push you past the brink, leaning forward to meet his lips with your own. Coryo pulls you forward with his firm and gentle hold on your cheek, meeting you half way. And as he kisses you, heart pounding out of his chest, you both feel fucking invincible.
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arkhammaid · 1 month
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL
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fandom. formula one & mcu
about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond
content warnings. written in 3rd person
word count. 1.4k words
notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth
"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.
"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."
"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.
"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."
"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."
y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.
next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.
to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.
the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.
shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.
"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."
yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.
it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.
but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.
with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.
it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.
they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.
"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.
"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.
"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.
"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.
"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.
"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."
"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.
hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.
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ARKHAM MAID 2024
283 notes · View notes
not-magdi · 3 months
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"Us, Forever"
Summary: Pablo can't believe how lucky he got with you, he really can't believe it 
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N
I managed to get Corona! The one time I would have had time to write something I got Corona and a Fever that cooked my brain. But, now my test is negative again and my brain is producing ideas like crazy! 
Hope you like this one though,
Love you guys Magdi <3
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You didn't know what to think when you saw his pain-filled expression on TV. You sat there, completely frozen, worry the only thing on your mind.   
When you heard his sobs over the phone as he told you how bad it was, your heart shattered into a million pieces. That day made you realise that from that moment on, you had to be the strong one in this relationship. 
It made you realise that he needed you to be the one he could lean on, the one Pablo could let his guard down, somebody that could be strong for him too. So he didn't have to be all the time. 
You made it to your mission to do everything in your power to help him in any way possible. You rebuilt your living room into a bedroom, so he didn't have to go up any stairs. You held him day and night when the pain got too strong, and the only thing he could do was cry. 
"Baby, I'm here ... I'm here for you. Let it all out I got you."
His grip on your hoddie was so hard that his knuckles turned white. You wrapped your arms around him like you wanted to protect him from everything terrible that this world threw at him. 
Pablo felt safe in your arms. Your sent calmed him down. The warmth of your body engulfed him in a comforting manner. 
He buried his face deeper into your neck as he felt his breath starting to slow down again. 
"T-Thank you, I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."
You grabbed his head to make him look at you. You assured him, "Hey, it's completely ok to feel like shit sometimes. What you are going through is nothing easy. Sometimes you just have to let it all out." 
Kissing his head, you stand up to grab something to eat for the two of you. Seeing that it was already 6 in the morning, you decided to start the day, knowing you two wouldn't fall asleep anymore. 
Pablo kept lying on the couch. The pain in his knee was now only a dull ache. He sat up a bit to be able to see you rummaging through his kitchen drawers, trying to find something to eat.
An unconscious smile makes its way onto his face. He can't get his head around how you are willing to do all of this for him. Like he really doesn't know what he would do without you. You'd do everything for him, he doesn't even have to ask for it. 
But it scared him that you wanted to help him so much. It frightened him that one day, you could wake up and realise how much work it was to be in a relationship with him. And that you would leave him because of that.
Realistically, something like that would never happen, but he was a chronicle overthinker, so let him be. 
When you came back from the kitchen with two plates in your hand, you sensed something was bothering him, but you wanted him to tell you on his own. 
You two ate your breakfast in silence, it was a weird kind of silence. You felt that Pablo wanted to tell you something the whole time, but nothing came. He just sat there and played around with his food. 
"You not hungry?" 
Looking like a child who got caught doing something stupid, he shakes his head and lowers his gaze again, not able to hold eye contact with you for so long. 
Thinking he wouldn't say anything at all. You were about to say something when you heard him say. "How do you do it?" 
Confused, you look at him. "What do you mean?" 
"I mean, like ... like how do you keep up with me?" 
Your confusion didn't get any better. You looked up from your plate and saw Pablo already staring at you, a curious yet slightly sad expression on his face. 
Pablo noticed your confused expression and continued to talk. 
" I mean, how can you keep up with literally having to be my server? You are cancelling your plans to stay home with me and do everything to keep me comfortable. You put my life before yours. Why do you do that? I-I don't understand. "
You loved him deeply and didn't see your efforts as a burden. It was natural for you to do what you could to help him. You couldn't enjoy yourself while he was suffering because it felt wrong to you.
Your silence made Pablo panic a bit, maybe he made you realise that you didn't want to live like that. What if you were actually sick of him needing care 24/7 now? 
Your voice interrupted his inner monologue, " I have no clue, to be honest. It's just - the second I heard you were injured, I felt like I had to take care of you, to help you somehow." 
You took a second to think of your following words. "When I heard you crying on the phone that day, I just felt the need to protect you, to take care of you. I know that you are a capable individual who can handle things on your own, but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. When you care about someone deeply, it's natural to want to do everything in your power to ensure their well-being. So, even though I trust your abilities, I just want to remind you that I'm here for you if you ever need help or support. Your happiness and safety mean everything to me, and I'll always do my best to make sure you're feeling okay."
Hearing Pablo sniff made you stop your rambling and look at him. 
"Dios mio, these medications make me emotional." 
Pablo let out a wet chuckle as he wiped his tearing eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. 
You smiled at the boy before you and leaned down to place a kiss on his red nose. "I don't care, I love you one tear more or less isn't gonna change that."
"I love you too, so so much." 
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sour candy
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pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you come over to family video after a halloween party and steve can't keep his hands off you? idk what this is tbh i was on drugs when i wrote this.
warning(s): 18+, steve being an absolute slut for you, making out, dry humping, unprotected sex, semi public sex, finger sucking, you giving steve hickeys, mentions of you dress as daphne blake but that doesn't last long and idk if i would qualify this as a halloween fic, it's just steve lovingly railing you <3 AND UNEDITED WORK SO DON'T BULLY ME!
© msgorillagripcoochie , do not steal, post on third party sites or translate my work
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"I'm sorry I had to work tonight babe." He apologized placing some movies in there rightful places before turning his head to see where you stood behind the counter playing with the necklace on your neck that he had gotten you for your birthday.
His eyes ran over your Daphne Blake costume, he remembered rolling his eyes when you told him that you and the rest of the group had planned to be the Scooby Gang.
He was supposed to be Fred but he had to work and he couldn't call off again this week.
"It's okay" you hummed "It was only the most important night of the year." You sounded mad but the playful glance you threw made him laugh.
"Halloween is the most important night of the year? Not my birthday or our anniversary?" He asked crossing his arm over his chest.
You looked up at him "No" you shook your head with a smile and he rolled his eyes.
"You didn't have to come you could've stood at the party." He told you running a hand through his hair as he made his way towards you leaning against the opposite side of the counter so he could get a better look at your face.
He always liked to admire you.
"It's fine, it wasn't all that anyways plus I much rather watch you slave around here with those tight jeans on than be at some stupid party." You grinned at him leaning on your elbows, He laughed reaching out to brush a stray hair away from your face "Yeah?"
"Yep, what can I say I'm a fool for a man with a nice ass."
"You're sick" he joked leaning down "For you" you joked meeting in the middle so you could kiss him. His hand cupped your cheek as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.
He wanted to pull you closer but the counter between the two of you stopped him from moving any closer to you.
You tasted like candy with a faint hint of beer, he let out a low moan against your lips when you sucked on his tongue before pulling away, a thin string of spit between the two of you that broke of when you pulled away.
"You're a fucking tease." He huffed wiping your wet lips with his thumb, his cheeks reddened from your interaction "Am not." You shot back shaking your head "I just know you have work to do."
"You think I wanna do work after that?" He asked, you laughed "That's a sneak peek of what you'll get if you finish." His hand slid down to your neck, his thumb now caressing the vein on your nexk.
"Not enough." He said a slight pout on his lips now that you weren't giving him what he wanted.
"No?" He shook his head and you rolled your eyes "Fine." Your fingers wrapped around the collar of his shirt pulling him down to face and he thought you were going to give him another kiss but you didn't.
"What if I told you that I accidentally left my panties in my car?"
"Oh?" You nodded at his response letting him go "Accidentally?" He questioned raising an eyebrows "Of course" you said innocently "I would never purposely do anything like that" you picked at your bottom lip playing coy with him.
He felt himself harden in his jeans at the thought of you in that tight purple dress with no panties underneath, how easy it would be just to bend you over the counter and take you right here.
He knew realistically couldn't not with the cameras but the idea had him throbbing.
Fuck.
He quickly tried to grab all the movies on the counter in his hands almost dropping a few and you laughed at the desperate look on his face "Shut up."
"Sorry" you said stifling your laugh.
Steve honestly hadn't worked as fast as he was working right now, he didn't care that he looked desperate for you because he was. He'd always be fucking desperate for you.
Finally he had finished and he was speed walking behind the counter before you could process anything he was turning you around to kiss you.
His hand finding a place on your hips pulling you closer and slightly off your feet so he could kiss you properly.
You threw your arms over his shoulders, you gasped when he pressed you roughly against the counter, rattling the stuff on top. "You're gonna break something."
"I don't care" he said, he need you so badly. He lifted on leg against his waist the rough material of his jeans rubbing against your bare pussy.
You bit your lip, your hands sliding under his shirt scratching his skin lightly "You're so hot" you whimpered leaning up to kiss his neck.
You sucked marks on his necks that you knew he'd wear with pride, he never did bother to cover them up and always bragged about them to everyone.
He grinded against you a bit harder bringing you out of your thoughts noticing the lost look in your eyes when you pulled away from his neck "What are you thinking about?" He asked "You, just you." You moaned.
He gripped your hips tighter when he felt your wetness through his jeans letting out a groan after, this whole thing almost being too much for him.
The thought of what the two of you looked like running through his brain, how greedy he must've looked dry humping you in the middle of the store but he needed more, he needed to feel you.
He picked you up placing you on the counter "I can't take it." He whimpered pulling away from you pushing your dress higher almost letting out a moan at the sight of your pussy looking all puffy from him grinding against you.
He unbuckled his jeans pulling his cock out, he slid himself through you wet folds loving the way you looked so fucking needy for him.
"You sure you can take it?" He teased, he knew you could take it, you were always so good for him.
You huffed "You know I can fucking take it." He smiled, you were always got angry when he didn't give you what you wanted.
He opened his mouth to tease you some more but you glared at him and he couldn't help but chuckle "Fine, fine, needy girl" he hummed before pushing into you in one thrust "Steve!" Your nails dug into his shirt throwing your head back. He gave you time to adjust "Ready baby?"
You nodded "Always" His body towered over you as he thrusted into roughly. Your head leaned against his chest moaning, he brought his hand to your hair pulling lightly "Look at me, Look at me."
You pulled your head to stared up at him, he held your face in his hands just wanting to see you as he fucked you, pulling out just to slam back in to see the way your eyes glossed over and you mouth fell open.
You would never understand what effect you had on him, no one had ever had this hold on him. You made him crazy, he was fully obsessed with you.
One of his hands dug into your thigh while he brought the other one to your face shoving two fingers into your mouth when your moans got too loud.
"You feel so fucking good." He moaned as you sucked on his fingers, your tongue running over the pads of his fingers, your eyes shut.
His hips moved harshly using his full force causing his knees bumping into the rough wood of the counter but he didn't care about the bruises that would replace the ones he had from when he ate you out in the bathroom.
He felt his orgasm coming closer but he need you to come first, he pulled his fingers from your lips, your eyes fluttering open to stare up at him through your wet lashes.
He brought the two fingers that were in your mouth to clit rubbing in circles just the way you liked. You looked down at where the two of you met and you whimpered.
He felt like he was on fucking fire, the way you felt around him, everytime he fucked you it felt just as amazing as the first time.
"Come on baby." He whispered taking your bottom lip between his and pulling on it lightly "Cum for me, come on" you eyes squeezed shut as your mouth fell open no actual sound leaving your lips as you came around him.
He moaned as you milked his cock, cumming inside you soft whimpers leaving his lips.
He let out a breath once you both relaxed "You're a whore" you laughed your head against his chest "You corrupted me." He hummed playing with your hair.
"Eddie stole a bag of candy from some trick or treaters and gave it to me? Wanna go home and eat it?" You asked looking up at him and he nodded pecking your lips.
"We'll worry about the cameras tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
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so sorry this sucked <3, feel free to request and tell me what you think.
-mila
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taytjiefourie · 1 year
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Show Don't Tell: Anger
Greetings, lovely people! It's great to be back with another post in my 'Show Don't Tell' series! I hope you've all been doing well. Without further ado, let's dive right into today's topic: anger.
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Anger is a powerful and complex emotion that can manifest in many ways. It can range from a mild irritation to a full-blown rage, and can be triggered by a variety of factors, including frustration, injustice, or hurt. While it's natural to want to avoid anger in our personal lives, it can actually be a useful tool when it comes to creative writing.
When it comes to writing, anger can add depth and complexity to characters and their interactions. By showing a character's anger, we can reveal their motivations, values, and flaws, and create a more dynamic and realistic portrayal of human emotion. Additionally, anger can create tension and conflict in a story, driving the plot forward and keeping readers engaged.
But hey, I'm not here to talk about the nitty-gritty of anger. I'm here to help you learn how to effectively show your character's anger in your writing! So let's dive right in, starting with the powerful tool of body language.
Clenched fists
Tightly crossed arms
Stiff or rigid posture
Facial expressions like frowning, scowling, or furrowing their brows
Pacing or restlessness
Grinding teeth or jaw clenching
Aggressive gestures like pointing or shaking a finger
Staring or glaring
Raised voice or shouting
Heavy breathing or sighing
Pounding a fist on a surface
Tightened or bulging neck muscles
Sweating or flushed skin
Looking away or avoiding eye contact
Physical violence, such as hitting or throwing objects
Tensing or flexing muscles
Clenching or unclenching fists repeatedly
Baring teeth or showing a snarl
Raising eyebrows or narrowing eyes
Rolling eyes or making sarcastic facial expressions
Biting or chewing on their lips
Tapping their foot or fingers impatiently
Leaning in aggressively or invading personal space
Hunching over or making themselves appear smaller
Using a monotone or clipped tone of voice
Holding their breath or exhaling loudly
Clapping hands sarcastically or making dismissive hand gestures
Making fists and shaking them at someone
Puffing up their chest or standing tall to appear more imposing
Stomping their feet or making loud footsteps.
Scrunching their nose or flaring nostrils
Puckering or twisting their mouth
Tugging or pulling at their hair or clothing
Crossing or uncrossing their legs or ankles abruptly
Bending or clenching their toes or curling their toes tightly
Bouncing or tapping their knee rapidly
Grinding or rubbing their hands together
Picking at their nails or skin
Covering their face or eyes with their hands
Throwing their head back in frustration or exasperation.
Raising or lowering their voice
Slamming things down too hard that they are carrying.
Pursing their lips and nodding.
Running their tongue on the inside of their cheek.
Stalking instead of walking
Scratching their head or neck vigorously
Pulling or tugging at their ears
Biting their tongue or inside of their cheek
Flinching or tensing up when someone approaches them
Nodding their head sharply or repeatedly
Squeezing or gripping an object tightly, such as a pen or a phone
Slamming doors or drawers
Puffing out their cheeks or blowing air out forcefully
Fidgeting or shifting their weight from foot to foot
Raising one or both eyebrows in surprise or anger.
Shrugging off someone's touch or pushing them away
Curling their lips or sneering
Tilting their head back and closing their eyes
Scrunching up their face in disgust or disapproval
Stomping their foot or kicking an object
Folding their arms tightly across their chest
Clutching their stomach or chest
Rubbing their hands together quickly
Stiffening their body or freezing in place
Turning their back on someone or walking away abruptly.
Making a fist and pressing it into their other hand
Running a hand through their hair in frustration
Holding their hand to their forehead or temple
Biting their lower lip or the inside of their cheek
Tensing their jaw and grinding their teeth
Clenching their fists behind their back or in their pockets
Tugging at their collar or tie
Staring daggers or giving someone a withering look
Curling their toes or flexing their feet
Drumming their fingers or tapping their nails on a surface.
Covering their mouth with their hand and closing their eyes.
Scratching or rubbing the back of their neck
Rubbing their eyes or face vigorously
Putting their hands on their hips and leaning forward
Standing up abruptly or pacing back and forth
Pushing a chair or other object out of the way
Clapping their hands sharply or slamming them on a surface
Breathing heavily or audibly
Hunching their shoulders or shrugging in frustration
There are so many ways to bring your character's anger to life in your writing, and your readers will feel it in their bones! Body language is just one tool in your arsenal, but there are plenty of others to explore. Next up, let's talk about sensory details. While there may be some overlap with body language, there are also unique ways to use sensory details to convey anger.
Sensory details are all about bringing your reader into your character's experience by describing what they feel, see, hear, taste, and smell. But it's not just about surface-level sensations; it's about capturing what your character feels on the inside too. Think about the way anger might make your character's heart race or their vision narrow, or the way it might leave a sour taste in their mouth or make them hyper-aware of certain smells.
Clenched teeth or jaw
Rapid heartbeat or pounding in the chest
Flushed or reddened face
Sweating or clammy skin
Heavy breathing or panting
Muscles tensing or knotting up
Twitching or trembling limbs
Ringing in the ears or muffled sounds
Vision tunneling or blurring
Sensitivity to light or sound
Tingling or numbness in the fingers or toes
Pounding or throbbing headache
Dry mouth or tightness in the throat
Stomach churning or nausea
Tingling or itching sensation on the skin
Increased sensitivity to smells or tastes
Loss of appetite or overeating
Difficulty concentrating or focusing
Racing thoughts or an inability to think straight
Feeling dizzy or lightheaded.
Tense or stiff neck and shoulders
Clammy or shaking hands
Uncontrollable shaking or shivering
Rapid speech or stuttering
Breathy or strained voice
High-pitched or shrill tone
Swelling or throbbing veins
Rapid blinking or eye twitching
Heavy or labored sighs
Chills or goosebumps
Rapid or irregular heartbeat
Flushed or blotchy skin
Pacing or restless movements
Increased energy or restlessness
Headache or pressure in the temples
Chest tightness or discomfort
Dry or sweaty palms
Fidgeting or tapping feet or fingers
Frowning or scowling
Clenching or grinding teeth.
Action is the next layer in showing your character's anger. It's all about capturing the choices they make and the way they interact with their surroundings and other characters while feeling that intense emotion. Maybe they lash out and say things they regret later, or they bottle up their anger and internalize it until it explodes. Maybe they turn to self-destructive behaviors like substance abuse or reckless driving, or they channel their anger into a creative outlet like writing or painting. Whatever actions your character takes, they can reveal a lot about their personality, values, and motivations, and help your readers connect with them on a deeper level.
Yelling or screaming
Throwing objects or slamming doors
Punching or hitting walls
Physically attacking someone
Storming out of a room or location
Refusing to engage in conversation
Passive-aggressive behavior
Giving the silent treatment
Ignoring or avoiding the source of their anger
Interrupting others or talking over them
Criticizing or belittling others
Blaming others for their problems
Making sarcastic or cutting remarks
Engaging in risky behavior or taking unnecessary risks
Excessive drinking or drug use
Engaging in self-harm or other destructive behaviors
Seeking revenge or planning retaliation
Seeking control or power over others
Using manipulation or coercion to get what they want
Betraying or sabotaging others
Withholding affection or love
Sarcasm
Eye-rolling
Mocking or imitating others
Giving ultimatums
Exaggerating or lying about their feelings or experiences
Making threats
Refusing to compromise
Refusing to listen or hear other perspectives.
Getting physically tense or rigid
Clenching their fists or teeth
Biting their nails or lips
Fidgeting or tapping their foot
Pacing back and forth
Making abrupt or sudden movements
Staring or glaring at someone
Crossing their arms or legs defensively
Scratching or rubbing their skin
Crying or showing signs of distress
Withdrawal or isolation from others
Demanding attention or validation from others
Disrupting the peace or harmony in a space or environment
Refusing to follow rules or guidelines
Engaging in arguments or fights with others
Becoming overly competitive or aggressive in their pursuits
Ignoring advice or guidance from others
Showing a lack of empathy or compassion towards others
Being overly critical or nitpicky
Refusing to apologize or take responsibility for their actions.
Exhibiting physical symptoms like sweating or shaking
Making demands or issuing commands to others
Engaging in reckless or dangerous behavior
Becoming overly defensive or argumentative
Engaging in self-destructive behavior or self-sabotage
Refusing to acknowledge or address the source of their anger
Blaming themselves for problems that are not their fault
Seeking out conflict or confrontation with others
Using passive-aggressive behavior to communicate their anger
Engaging in obsessive or compulsive behaviors
Struggling to focus or concentrate due to their anger
Engaging in self-soothing behaviors like rocking or pacing
Using humor to mask or downplay their anger
Becoming distant or disengaged from others.
Now, let's talk about setting. It's not just where your characters are, but how they react to it. This means the environment can be used to show off their anger or even help readers understand why they are feeling angry.
Secluding themselves in a quiet, isolated part of the environment
Moving quickly and aggressively through the environment
Becoming agitated or restless in a peaceful or serene environment
Ignoring or avoiding other characters in the environment
Intentionally damaging the environment or objects within it
Distancing themselves from others or backing away from objects in the environment
Taking actions that disrupt the peace or harmony of the environment, such as slamming doors or turning over tables
Focusing on negative aspects of the environment, such as dirt or clutter, and feeling anger towards those elements
Becoming fixated on a particular aspect of the environment and feeling anger towards anyone who interferes with it.
Avoiding eye contact with others in the environment
Making sarcastic or biting comments about the environment
Displaying impatience or frustration with slow-moving objects or people in the environment
Purposefully choosing a more hostile or uncomfortable location to match their angry emotional state
Remember how a bright, sunny day with chirping birds and fresh flowers can instantly put you in a happy mood? Well, the same goes for the location in your story. Even without a character present, scenery can influence the way readers perceive the mood. So, when it comes to anger, the location can be used to set the tone just as much as the character's actions and emotions.
Weather: Dark clouds, lightning, thunder, and heavy rain can create an ominous and angry atmosphere.
Time of Day: Nighttime or sunset can create a moody and angry atmosphere.
Location: A rundown or dangerous part of town can create a sense of anger or unease.
Objects: Broken or destroyed objects can indicate a character's anger and frustration.
Colors: Dark or vibrant colors like red or black can be used to create a sense of anger.
Noises: Loud, jarring noises like alarms or sirens can create a sense of anger and urgency.
Crowds: A crowded or noisy environment can be used to create feelings of anger or irritation.
Architecture: Cold or sterile environments like hospitals or government buildings can create a sense of anger and frustration.
Nature: A barren or lifeless landscape can create a sense of anger or despair.
Animals: Aggressive or hostile animals can be used to create a sense of danger and anger.
Now, let's talk about dialogue. There's nothing quite like a character yelling and cussing up a storm to show their anger, right? It's one of the most powerful ways to convey intense emotions through words. So, buckle up and get ready to explore the ways in which dialogue can be used to show anger in your writing!
Cursing and using expletives
Speaking loudly and aggressively
Interrupting others and speaking over them
Using sarcastic or mocking tones
Making threats or using violent language
Using short, sharp sentences or phrases
Speaking through gritted teeth or a clenched jaw
Insulting or belittling others
Using repetitive or redundant language
Refusing to engage in conversation or responding with silence.
Using rhetorical questions that are meant to convey frustration
Interrupting themselves mid-sentence with a burst of anger
Repeating a particular phrase or word to emphasize their anger
Using a dismissive tone to indicate irritation or impatience
Speaking with a tone that is icy or cold
Using a monotone voice to convey anger and frustration
Resorting to name-calling or insults
Being defensive or argumentative in their responses
Speaking rapidly and stumbling over their words in their anger
Using a confrontational or challenging tone to express anger.
And what comes after all of that? Well, my dear friend, when you've exhausted their words, body language, senses, and actions, what's left? That's when you dive into their mind and explore their point of view. You can write about their thoughts and inner dialogue to really capture the depth of their anger.
Negative thoughts about others or the situation
Self-criticism and frustration
Dwelling on past events that caused the anger
Increased cynicism and pessimism
A desire for revenge or justice
Difficulty concentrating or focusing on tasks
Racing or intrusive thoughts
A feeling of being overwhelmed or out of control
A sense of injustice or unfair treatment
Blaming others or external circumstances for their anger
Now we come to the last item on our list - metaphors and analogies. They are frequently used in writing to create colorful and vivid descriptions, and can also effectively convey a character's anger. However, it's important to be careful with their use, as readers can become annoyed if they are overused.
"Her anger burned like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path."
"He felt like a coiled snake, ready to strike at any moment."
"Her anger was a thunderstorm, building and brewing until it finally erupted."
"His anger was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any second."
"She felt like a volcano, with her anger bubbling just below the surface."
"His anger was a raging river, with powerful currents and dangerous undertows."
"She felt like a caged animal, trapped and helpless in her anger."
"His anger was a sharp sword, cutting through everything in its way."
"She felt like a stormy sea, with her anger churning like the waves."
"His anger was a blazing inferno, burning everything in its wake."
"His anger boiled like lava in a volcano, ready to erupt at any moment."
"Her words sliced through me like a knife, leaving me raw and bleeding with anger."
"He was a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode with fury."
"Her temper was a wildfire, spreading quickly and uncontrollably."
"His rage was a storm, brewing and building until it unleashed with a violent outburst."
"She was a snake, coiled and ready to strike with venomous anger."
"His fury was a thunderous roar, shaking the very foundations of the earth."
"Her temper was a beast, wild and untamed, impossible to control."
"His anger was a whirlpool, pulling me down into its dark depths."
"She was a volcano, her anger a fiery eruption that left nothing but destruction in its wake."
Well, that's all for today's post. It's always bittersweet to say goodbye, but don't worry, I'll be back soon with more juicy writing tips! Before I go, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this post. Did you find it helpful? Did you learn something new? And more importantly, what other emotions do you want me to tackle next? Let me know in the comments below!
You can find plenty of these posts on my Tumblr, so be sure to check them out! or you can find a more organized version here!
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cyberwhumper · 2 months
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Imran had already known, going in, that the conditions of the breeding facility where he now found himself standing would be less than ideal when compared to his old employer. He knew the smaller budget would reflect on the conditions the animals were kept, how the entire process was executed, and what the odds of the transaction working out were. Yet he is still shocked when the cages are small, cramped, filthy. His heart aches for each and every single one of the biopets kept within, but he knows he realistically can't possibly save them all.
Just one. Just the one. That would be enough.
With every step further into the facility, the mental image of Horus degrades in his mind. Guilt gnaws at the forefront of his conscience, and it comes crashing down heavily once he sees with his own eyes what had become of the once powerful animal he had met all those years ago.
Tied to the center of the tiny room, the creature barely had any slack to move. Its body is covered in a litany of sores and bruises, and the emaciated skin clings to bone like a tight-fitting suit. As soon as its gaze meets the handler's, a shrill noise leaves its mouth. Terror, it seems, was all that remained. The knot in Imran's stomach feels so tight it's nauseating.
He hopes to appease the animal despite the handler's amused comments over the pointlessness of the effort. Horus doesn't look at him. Doesn't even seem to recognize him. It pulls away from Imran as best as it can, tail pinned between its exhausted legs, tears streaming down its face, body shaking so hard it makes the chains holding it in place clink. Talking to it has no effect. Even touching it, an act that would have always promptly elicited a bite response, does nothing.
Imran barely remembers the rest of the transaction.
At some point money had exchanged hands, the biopet was sedated, and he now found himself clutching the battered creature tight to his body as if it could possibly flee. The walk back to his vehicle feels shameful.
What have I done? No. I couldn't possibly have known this would happen. But it only happened because of me, didn't it?
The device on the back of its skull has been removed. Vandermeer leaves no loose ends. Imran doesn't want to think of what the withdrawals must have been like for the animal to go through. Death would have been a kinder choice than this.
The disgraced doctor swallows his guilt, and gently lays the biopet on the backseat. The drive would be long, but the worst, he hoped, was already over.
I'm so sorry, Horus. I promise I'll take care of you this time.
[OC INDEX]
Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen //
If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!
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jayden-killer · 7 months
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can you write realistic miguel x a civilian male! reader? like how would he react when other spider people find out that he's with a guy? would he deny and try to avoid his boyfriend in front of people? what would be his thought process dating another man? how do you think they'd end up together? (I have a lot of questions haha)
It's my first time writing a male!reader and I'm scared I messed up the request😩😭I still hope you will like it, I realllyyy tried my best!🙏
Reminder that requests are open at the top of my profile!
Miguel with a civilian male!reader.
•You and Miguel both met when he worked at Alchemax. You were both colleagues. Of course, you didn't know he was Spider-man at all, you discovered it by yourself: his strange disappearing, his not-so-normal behaviour...
•And that's why one night, in a bar, sharing a beer, you said all drunk: "I know you're Spider-man, Miguel." He paused, then widened his eyes and laughed. Taking a big sip of his beer, he said: "Now you gotta keep the secret, huh?"
•But that's not the only secret you two shared. Two more beers and then you found yourself kissing in the bathroom of the bar, Miguel's hands on your waist and tongue down your throat. So, you discovered you weren't just colleagues lmaooo.
•Dates went well, incredibly well. Miguel was happy for once: he finally had to be happy, and he wasn't going to ruin another good thing in his life. He wasn't even going to hide his relationship with you. Hell, why would he?!
•He doesn't have problems dating another man. Gender laws to him are not a problem. If a person makes him happy and likes him for what he is, then he'll fall, slowly but hard.
•Miguel proudly has a photo with you in his lab, in the Spider-Society HQ. There's you, hugging him from behind, while he has his hands on yours, making you jump on his back, all happy. Whenever a Spider enters his lab, and notices the photo, he wouldn't care. Nope. Who cares what the Spiders think of him? He's happy, and that's okay with it.
•if there are any homophobic Spiders in the Society, he's going to take care of it personally. Spoiler: it won't go too well.
•He enjoys cuddling and holding hands BUT only in private. He has a high reputation, and doesn't want to be seen as cuddly and vulnerable by all the members of the Society. Though, doesn't mean he won't spoil you etc.
•He loves cooking for you, doing your laundry, and cleaning because I think his love language is acts of service.
•But, if you leave a kiss anywhere on his face In public, he'll go R E D.
"Conejito, tengo algo por ti."
Your eyes moved from the newspapers to Miguel's soft smile. What could it be? Wait...why he has his hands behind his back?
He removed his hands from his back to show a bouquet of colourful flowers, and that's when you found yourself by him, taking the gift and sniffing it. It smelled like heaven.
"What...? W-Why this? It's not our anniversary, is it?!" You panicked a bit. He chuckled, shaking his head and taking one of your hands. "No que no lo es, amor. I only wanted to make you a little gift." To Miguel, your smile was enough to be the most beautiful gift ever given.
He placed a kiss on your lips, titling his head so you could intensify it. You thought about how Miguel changed these months with you: he looked happier, healthier...
"You’re the best, Miguel."
"Because you bring out the best of me."
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