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#If you think this might be about you then it probably is
moondirti · 3 days
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
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deadsetobsessions · 16 hours
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]
“I’m having a child.”
Danny stared at Batman.
“…Uh, congrats?”
Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”
Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”
Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.
“I mean- I have parents!”
“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”
Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”
“They’re still… alive?”
“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.
“I see.”
“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”
Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.
“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.
“Of course. Tell me everything.”
The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.
Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.
——
“Hey, Tim?”
Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”
“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”
Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”
Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”
“You… want to confront Batman.”
“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”
“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.
“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”
“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.
“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”
Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”
Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”
“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”
“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”
“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.
Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.
“Jason regularly showers, though?!”
“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”
“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”
“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”
“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”
“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”
“Danny, what the fuck?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”
“Hey!”
“Soul-stinky nerd man!”
——
“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.
“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”
“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”
“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.
“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”
“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.
“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.
“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.
“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.
“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.
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egophiliac · 3 days
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Serious question.
Do you think we’ll see the parents/family of each of the guys???
Like, We’ve been TEASED with Ace’s brother, that I’m starting to think it’s just a reference to that Alice in Wonderland park character in Japan and nothing else….
Jack’s family, Ruggie’s grandma, Falena, Maleficia, Ms.Rosehearts, Just now Vil’s dad is in the picture which I am really happy but now I’m wondering about his mom, and so Deuce’s mom.
I mean, some HAVE a silhouette!! It could mean they do have a design in the making/ready to show. They could’ve shown us Falena in the Tamashina (hope I said that correctly) event, but didn’t (prolly to make Leona not so σ(▼□▼メ) and it’s understandable)
Anyhow, any idea/headcannon about this? Who do you want to see first?
I'm wondering if everyone might eventually get a travel event? like they've now introduced with Vil's that it doesn't have to be specifically hometowns, so that opens things up a lot! (especially if they have to figure out how to do three separate Coral Sea visits) (how would that even work otherwise)
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but yeah, I hope everyone gets a chance! there's a lot of backstory characters I would LOVE to meet. :D :D :D though I do think some of them don't really suit the more light-hearted tone of the events (pretty sure you're right about that being why Falena wasn't in Tamashina-Mina, that would've just been. too much for Leona.) so like...we're probably not ever going to meet the Rosehearts. or Maleficia (although I maintain that this would be THE funniest possible way to introduce her outside of the main story, and actually I would love this a lot, can we please Twst) (I need to see her to put Malleus in a froofy little outfit and tell him what a handsome boy he is). but they've sprung surprises like Kifaji on us, and honestly anyone who shows up and tells embarrassing stories about characters' childhoods is good in my book!
characters off the top of my head who I most want to meet: literally any of the Zigvolts, Azul's mom, Ace's brother, Che'nya's grandfather (<- I think he would be a good one for Riddle) (please just any non-terrible adult in his life), any member of Rook's family because I need to see how they managed to produce him, and...really just whoever they can come up with for Silver.
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iceunhie · 2 days
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“and i can go anywhere i want just not home” : genshin men
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premise. home is where the heart is—perhaps it's why they feel so empty whenever they're away from you. or, what it's like when they miss you while they're/you're away.
featuring: kazuha, lyney, wanderer, neuvillette.
notes: gn!reader (you/your pronouns), welcome to the depths of my drafts, you can tell where i got lazy and when i got motivated tbh 💀 an attempt at humor (i am unfunny) reblogs are appreciated! like usual, might make a part 2 idk
...alternative title: 3 twinks and a dragon
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NEUVILETTE: wait, why's it raining so hard?! 😱 “oh, it's just the monsieur sulking ^^”
neuvilette finds that one of the most inconvenient things granted in his power is the fact that his emotions can be broadcasted live over fontaine at any given moment.
subsequently, it's pouring; buckets of rain that clearly weren't on the daily weather report yesterday. he can see parents ushering children into their homes, the melusines providing umbrellas to those who had the unfortunate problem of not bringing one at the side.
all in all, fontaine is as is, but neuvilette feels even emptier than before.
it's probably because of you. it's definitely because of you. as fleeting as the rain on a summer day, you'd come and went, wishing him well before you'd leave for liyue for a short vacation.
2 weeks....
(the rain showers even more, heavily pouring over the nation.)
his shoulders tighten uncharacteristically, and if you were to see him, you'd tell him he'd resemble a sad fontainian otter with its seashell taken away.
. . . .
BONUS:
"i'm back- GAH! why are the streets flooded?!"
"oh, mx. [name]! welcome back! i'll tell monsieur neuvillette that you're back now!"
two hours later, the sun shines back again as if it hadn't poured consistently during the entire duration of 2 weeks. the people of fontaine rejoice.
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KAZUHA: like a bird longing for the sun to shine again (the most normal) 😭
kazuha isn't the type to brood. he isn't, because he knows he has nothing to brood about. well, most of the time, anyway.
this, however, is partly because you're usually with him, you in all your glory, nourishing him with affectionate kisses and letting him feel the breath of fresh air he desperately needs after a long, enduring trip on the crux.
the days you aren't there however are the days he finds himself most appreciative of his reclusive nature. as the rock of the ship against gentle waters make it sway, kazuha thinks of you.
you, you. were you at liyue, doing well as he hopes you always are, trudging away as you work wonders in the kitchen, preparing meals and watching day turn to night, waiting for time to pass, missing him too?
he hopes you are. (he feels like every time you're gone, a part of him can't erase the sense of homesickness. even if liyue wasn't his home, you are the closest to it.)
"you look a bit blue these days, kazuha. missing a certain someone?" a certain captain guffaws, to which the white haired vagrant can only smile to, though the smile betrays his rather dour mood. beidou's tease is only indicative of his longing.
he does miss you. a whole lot. he misses the way you run up to him as he finally steps off the crux's arms, embracing you with fervor and inhaling the cool scent of your hair. only then, kazuha thinks, he could really feel at home. "only a fool wouldn't miss the one they hold most dear to them."
beidou pats him on the back, sympathetic of his plight. he feels a bit embarrassed. beidou always saw through him. "gotta tough it out, kid. just a few more days and we'll be back to liyue in no time."
he wasn't a kid—beidou knows this, but she felt the need to emphasize so, what when kazuha looked akin to a kicked puppy waiting for its owner in the rain. "I'm well aware."
and so she's gone, warbling an old sailor's tune, leaving kazuha to deal with the ache of you behind.
he also misses a lot of things about you whenever you're gone. though temporary as his wanderlust may be, because he promised you—"i will always return to you"—this has brought him to associate everything he sees in your likeness.
is it the poet in him? perhaps. but loving you is as natural as him taking in the sights of nature, as lovely as the moonlit nights he spends, alone, and without you.
tough it out, as beidou says. that's difficult.
watching as the moon seems ever perpetual in the sky, kazuha only hopes he can tough it out well.
(when he comes back, he's thinking of running towards you this time.)
. . . .
"welcome back, kazu-" you don't even make it to the harbor's docks before you're being tackled and literally thrown off your feet. "what the fuck are you doing?!"
or should you say, swept off your feet? you feel every ounce of shame right now, and burying your head in the crook of kazuha's neck. profanity aside, it's hard not to be ashamed when almost every person with a pair of working eyes can see you being carried by your lover.
you can hear the playful whistles and cheers of the crux crew from behind, and beidou's knowing, knowing smile.
"i'm home." kazuha's breath is close to your nape, and you feel the soft press of his lips to your neck. you flush. face him, and you see his dreamy, lovesick eyes.
if he was looking like that, how could you be ashamed? you laugh, even if you see people side eye you into oblivion. brush your noses together, and close your eyes.
"welcome home, kazuha."
he smiles. the day is bright today.
BONUS:
"kazuha?"
"mm, what is it, love?"
"if you do that ever again i will literally drop dead on the floor from the shame, so don't make it a habit."
"haha, i wouldn't dream of it."
(one voyage later, you find out kazuha is a liar.)
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LYNEY: 😐 'insufferably insufferable,' given by lynette
if lynette could choose between smelling every perfume in emilie's shop (and put herself through an attack to her very delicate senses) and seeing her brother mope like a deflated balloon over his absence in fontaine, she'd pick the first option.
you are to blame. rather, maybe it's her brother's utter lack of propriety, proclaiming just how much he misses you with almost enough talk to make her want to rip her cat ears out.
or maybe she'd actually claw at him. lyney was just that infuriating. is this what they mean by love changes a person?
(if so, then lynette reckons her twin has changed for the worse.)
okay, she was exaggerating a bit, because she loved you very much and considered you family as well—but she would gladly dropkick lyney any time. they'd been stationed at poisson for a while, set by father. it was cleanup for the remnants of the prophecy, but it provided them sufficient time away from the court of fontaine, away from distractions.
and, in lyney's mind, it also means he's away from you. in lynette's opinion, he should've stayed. that way, she won't get to listen to him prattle on and on about—
"do you think [name] will still love me even if i've been away from them for far too long? ahh, and lynette, these rainbow flowers, do they need a bouquet matching their eyes instead?"
and of course, her brother being the drop-dead love-drunk fool he is (bless your heart for being able to tolerate her sappy and corny brother) has not. stopped. talking. about. you.
you'd probably accept a bouquet with a dead fish in it if it meant lyney gave it to you, but lynette doesn't voice it out. in a corner of her mind, she wonders if she should just actually become a clockwork meka so she could voluntarily tune herself to tune out lyney's voice.
she crosses her arms, putting her (4th) dessert aside. "they'll like anything you give them. and there's no way they'd get sick of you just because we're away for a week, lyney."
her brother sighs, dreamily looking away at the sky. probably thinking about the flutter of your eyelashes and your smile that makes a magician want to bottle it up and never let it show to anyone else—
blergh, she was beginning to let lyney get to her.
"a week is far too long for me." lyney sulks. lynette resists the urge to roll her eyes. you and me both, brother.
"what if they might be in danger somewhere I can't reach?"
but because she's such an amazing sister (factual), she lets go of her temporary reprieve and comforts her utterly hopeless (factual?) brother.
(for your sake too. because lyney has changed. though she may say it's for the worse, that's not true at all. in fact, it's the opposite.)
"relax, lyney." her tone is sincere this time, that in which always gets lyney to look up to her. they're children again, and lynette is facing her older brother, and they're hand in hand together. "[name] will be fine. as long as it's from the heart, you know that they will cherish anything you give them."
because it's you, someone that accepted them, every part of them. lynette doesnt show it much, but it's one of the reasons why she's so fond of you. she grateful, really, that you love her brother.
thankfully, (to her great relief) it seems the hint that you'd rather have him home without anything than not be home at all, has gotten through lyney's mind. he goes silent, and lynette takes it as a successful mission success. another lovesick crisis averted, her brother's relationship with you stabilized.
at last, peace.....
. . . .
"alright then!" lyney says enthusiastically, with an unhappy lynette and a sheepish freminet in tow.
"let's commence operation steal their heart the moment we finish this mission!"
"the what now?"
lynette facepalms. she shouldn't have said anything....
BONUS:
"uh, lynette, what's that?"
"headphones."
"why?"
"....noise cancellation."
freminet looks at lyney, who's pacing around the room, muttering to himself as his grip on the rainbow flower-marcotte bouquet tightens.
"oh." lynette nods at him wearily.
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WANDERER: warning! ⚠️do not approach, he bites (scowls) 😨
there are many times when wanderer wants to bash his hat and let it squash the traveller's flying companion, and today was one of those times.
"hey, hat guy! why are you looking even more scary than usual? your scowl can be seen from miles away!"
he can hear her irritatingly cheery voice in the distance, undoubtly exposing him to the eyes of others. damn it.
"paimon, shh...!" aether silently prays to whichever god may hear (hopefully nahida), because for someone so small, wanderer was emitting a very ominous aura not akin to an aura of death.
"quit your nonsense, you-" wanderer barks back, insult at the tip of his tongue, but he tempers his temper (heh), going quiet instead. "forget it. i don't want be pissed off even more from that disgustingly chatty pet of yours."
"what did you just say to me?! urgh, you, you- ugh, paimon can't think of an ugly nickname! help out here, traveller...!"
"i think you should just let it be this time, paimon..."
he ignores the chatter of the two—mortals—thumbing at his vision, and then tenderly at the little doll he's sewed in his likeness, as well as.... your doll.
(you gave it to him once as a keepsake, in exchange for him sewing you the mini him he painstakingly made. when you got your wish, you made the two dolls kiss, saying something so ridiculous as, "that's us now!" his face burned the entire way back home.)
instead, he finds his thoughts lingering to you. you'd seen him off, staying back at sumeru city with nahida as company, leaving him to escort the traveller and paimon to the desert to clear out some ancient ruins. how boring.
you kissed him breathless back there— much to his chagrin at seeing nahida's knowing smile; but he finds himself longing for your voice and your hands in his hair more than ever. at least then he'd be able to solve the ringing in his ears from paimon's voice.
he's long stopped denying his erratic, tumultuous feelings, but he misses you. unbearably, because at least you were better than the two he's forced to babysit accompany.
and he also misses how you would take shelter in his hat in the sweltering desert heat, kissing his cheek when he flew you around to explore the pyramids, and when you would hold his hand as you complained about how long you two would be walking up, all sand and sweaty.
(he'd tease you about leaving you for dead, but was always the first to worry whenever you get dizzy from heat. a walking contradiction, this one.)
"hey, wanderer, you there?"
"you're a little red. are you overheating?woah, so puppets really can do that.... ah, you're spacing out, too!"
ugh. "what am i, a tea kettle?" he scowls, crossing his arms.
he's already counting the days he can finally return to your arms.
paimon stomps her feet at the nonexistent ground, "we're just a tiny bit worried, you know!"
"yeah? well you should do me a favor and shut your mouth a little. otherwise you'll end up overheating from the amount of nonsensical words you spit out."
"this guy's a real piece of work, only being kind to [name], jeez..." to his glee, the pixie mutters angrily. something about being a meanie and insufferable. well deserved.
aether watches the exchange with the soul drained from his body. 800,000 mora, 800,000 mora.....
. . . .
"uh... wanderer?" you chuckle nervously, not knowing where to place your hands as he buries his face head-first into your chest the moment he's home, allowing you to gently caress the soft strands of his hair.
"..."
"so are you gonna talk about it, or?"
"just let me hold you, will you?" he bites, but there's no bite at all. you kiss the top of his head as his ginormous hat is taken off his head completely. he nuzzles deeper into you. "....i missed you."
that shut you up real quick. you try to hide the giddy smile you have, but he lifts his face up to see it anyway.
"i missed you too."
BONUS:
"[name], is that an insect bite on your neck?"
"huh?!"
aether squints at you, "what kind of insect leaves that big of a bite-" his eyes pop out. turns red. "oh."
you look away. one less pure soul in the world.... sorry, aether.
(in a corner of the house of daena, wanderer sneezes.)
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more hsr content soon, also for very important reasons: do you think sunday would let you bite the wings by his ears yes or no
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
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roosterforme · 3 days
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them. 
At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.
He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?
Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you. 
"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them. 
When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.
You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.
He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.
----------------------------
You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."
To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.
"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."
Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice. 
After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.
For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?
So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.
"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal. 
Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them. 
When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."
All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.
"His jet is so cool!"
"It's huge!"
"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"
"Can he send us more stuff?"
It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.
You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing. 
It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.
My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...
"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long. 
But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater. 
Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?
When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more. 
You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.
When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way. 
Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.
And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous? 
I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
----------------------------
Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.
"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."
He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.
This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.
Lt Bradshaw,
I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.
He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa. 
But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.
He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.
Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.
Lt Bradshaw,
I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.
My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.
Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.
I hope you're doing well and staying safe.
Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.
----------------------------
You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.
Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'd like to take it further.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
-------------------------------
What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.
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671 notes · View notes
les4elliewilliams · 2 days
Note
OK OK HMO
How about ellie giving reader anal as a punishment kinda thing for coming home so late after a party?? PLS I LOVE MEAN ELLIE
omgomg. I swear I'm so obsessed with mean Ellie. Sure, she's lovely and she can be such a sweet, caring, thoughtful girlfriend. Put your health and well-being above everything else, but at the same time, she can be a big meanie. And all I can think of is that one coworker!ellie fic I wrote not too long ago. She's such a meanie, I would love to fight her ass for hours to be honest, even for no reason at all; just seeing her getting all riled up and fuming red is such a turn on?????? like be mean to me i'll cum. ANYWAYS!!
cw ; wc: 4k words approximately. anal sex, smut (no shit! ik.). she accuses you of cheating, and she won't let you cum ;( dom!ellie if it wasn't obvious. kind of rushed towards the end and not proofread, sorry :((
MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.
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Afterparty punishment.
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As you stepped out of the Uber, you were blinded by the bright glow of your phone's screen. You stared at all the lost calls and texts from your girlfriend, chewing on your bottom lip. Though you had heard your phone ringing, you wanted to stay longer with your friends and unwind after a long and stressful week at work. But your girlfriend had made it clear that she expected you to be home by midnight, and it was already 3 in the morning. You couldn't help but wish that she was sound asleep by the time you entered your small shared apartment — but you knew it was unlikely. You had a strong feeling that she was up, waiting for you, probably ready to lash out at you for being so late and not answering any of her calls or texts. You could already feel the tension rising as you approached your apartment complex.
You carefully turned the key in the lock, twisting it slowly and quietly, hoping not to disturb her in case she had dozed off while waiting for you to return home. As you pushed the door open, you could hear the low hum of the television set emanating from the living room. You tiptoed forward, trying not to make any noise, but just as you stepped into the room, she turned her head to look at you. Despite the calm expression on her soft features, you knew that she was anything but relaxed. Her eyes bore into you with a piercing intensity, and you could feel the full force of her anger emanating from her. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were fixed on your every move, waiting for you to speak first. You could tell that she was furious, and you braced yourself for the storm that was sure to come, letting out a long sigh.
You were the one who broke the silence first "Hi babe." your voice sounded gentle and subdued, your facial expression tinged with a hint of guilt. You slid your coat off your shoulders and hung it by the hooks on the wall. The air inside felt different than when you left to go to your best friend's party, and you could sense something was off. Her voice was soft yet firm and harsh as she replied, "Hey." She didn't even sound as sweet as she did when she said goodbye to you before you left. You kicked your heels off and left them by the door, not bothering to put them away even though you often yelled at Ellie for leaving her worn-out sneakers by the door.
"Where the hell have you been?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in anger as she stood up from the couch and marched over to you. Her previously calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by frustration and annoyance. Her face was freckled and scrunched up in anger, as she struggled to contain her emotions. "I'm so sorry, I was stuck in a traffic j-" you began, your voice apologetic. But it was clear that she was infuriated with you. She had called you multiple times, texted you, spammed your phone, but you never answered any of her calls. As time passed, she became increasingly worried that something might have happened to you and couldn't believe you could be so careless. She scoffed at your attempt to make up an apology, knowing that it was a lie, she wasn't buying it. She looked at you skeptically, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "A traffic jam?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You expect me to believe you were stuck in the traffic for over three hours?" She shook her head and let out a loud sigh of disapproval. It was clear that she thought you could have come up with a better excuse.
Just when you were about to respond to her rhetorical question, the woman abruptly raised her hand to signal you to keep quiet. "Don't even try to give me that bullshit," she scolded, her voice rising in anger. "You could have at least answered my calls or texted me back. But no, you just leave me sitting here, not knowing where you are or if you're okay." Her frustration was palpable, and she wasn't done yet. "I trusted you to be home by midnight. Do you have any idea how late it is?" she continued, her voice even louder and more incensed. Her arms were tightly crossed, causing her biceps to bulge, and you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on them for a few seconds longer than necessary. So fucking toned, she was too fucking fine even when fuming red and when she looked like she was about to strangle you.
You stood there before her, silent and unmoving as she let loose her verbal barrage. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as she continued to scold you. She's all fired up, and you could feel the heat emanating from her body. "It's three in the damn morning," she growled, her words like daggers in your ears. She didn't leave any room for an argument, as if you had any reason to protest. The anger that fuelled her words didn't dim her beauty, though. Despite the situation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of desire wash over you as you watched her. With her black tank top hugging her curves and torso perfectly, her bulging bicep muscles inviting you to come closer, run your fingertips over her smooth and freckled skin, just like you usually did in the bedroom. The fire in her eyes, her commanding presence, and the way her body moved with each angry gesture all combined to create a powerful aura that was almost...hypnotic. You found yourself inching towards her, your tongue running along your bottom lip, not that she seemed to notice, too busy lashing out at you "Just because I leave you the freedom to go out with your friends doesn't mean you can leave for that long and be completely unreachable," she spat, her lips curling up in disdain. The rage in her voice was like a torrential downpour, drenching you in her fury.
You let out a laugh and watched her face shift from surprise to confusion and eventually to anger. She towered over you, her towering frame casting a shadow over you. "Oh you think this is funny? You think this is fucking funny?" she spat out, her musky scent invading your nostrils as she stepped closer. She took a deep sniff, "What, are you drunk too?" she asked with disdain, this time actually waiting for you to talk "Just tipsy, El."
A scowl etched across her face, the lines around her mouth and between her brows more pronounced. "Who were you with? Cause I'm sure someone kept you there, am I right?" she accused you, her voice low and husky, as if she was battling with her thoughts and emotions. Her words carried a hint of insecurity, a slight crack in her usual confident facade. Her jealousy was a sign of her affection, a sign that she cared deeply for you and feared losing you. She has always been overthinking it since she met you. You were so perfect, too perfect. Out of her league. She knew she was wrong for accusing you, yet her anger and insecurities overtook her logic. It was like a fever that burned deep within her, urging her to let her emotions take control. But she also knew she could trust you, you had proven her multiple times. You were the only thing in her life that gave her a sense of stability, and she was terrified of losing that. Even as she raged and accused, there was a part of her that wished she could take it all back, but the damage was done. She had let her emotions get the best of her, and she didn't know how to fix it, yet she couldn't bite her tongue. "Ellie, are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you?" You felt a sense of disbelief and hurt at her accusatory tone, your eyes narrowing as you tried to understand why she would say such a thing.
"I don't fucking know. Did you?" Words kept slipping from her lips, dripping with venom and malice. You could almost feel the weight of her anger pressing down on you, suffocating you with her wrath. She crossed her arms over her chest like a fortress, her eyes narrowing as she watched you with a mix of uncertainty and suspicion. Her body language was rigid as if she were trying to hold back an explosion of emotion beneath the surface. Her jealousy was undeniable, like a fire burning in the pit of her stomach, consuming her from inside.
"Are you dumb?" you exclaimed. You had never given her any reason to doubt you, so her words hit you like a blow to the gut. Despite her insecurities, she had never accused you of anything like this before, and it left you feeling hurt and confused. Your chest felt tight as if the accusation had left a physical imprint on your body, making it hard to breathe. You looked at her with a mixture of anger and disbelief, not quite sure of how to respond. "Are you a whore?" Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to process what she had just said, and a flush of anger and arousal spread across your chest like wildfire. Your cheeks flamed with a blush, but you tried to suppress it, not wanting her to know how deeply her words had affected you.
"Excuse you?!" You snapped. She kept gazing at you like a laser beam, drilling into your soul. You were unable to move or speak as she stood over you, her toned arms crossed as if daring you to speak out of turn. You were simply speechless, your words dying in your throat, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a ton of bricks. "Did I stutter?" She repeated, her words dripping with sarcasm, and you could see the fury in her green irises. You were left speechless, your mouth open but no sound escaping your lips. "Take your clothes off," she demanded you, her voice low and firm; you were frozen in shock as her words hit your ears. You felt your heart start to race at her words, your mind struggling to comprehend what she was asking you. "Wha-" but she cut you off, predicting your question "Your actions have consequences," her tone stern and unforgiving.
There you were, bent over on the couch, your ass prominently displayed for her hungry and unforgiving eyes and your weight balanced precariously upon the palms of your hands sinking into its cushions, you found yourself in a vulnerable position while her eyes devoured every inch of your exposed skin. She loved the sight of your fucking ass on display for her...man, she was loving every second of it. Love bites covered your collarbone, boobs, and neck. She was rougher than usual – not that you minded, of course. She stood behind you, adorned only in a pair of sleek, black boxer shorts and a strap that hung close to your dripping entrance. The anticipation mounted as she teased and taunted, never actually fucking you like you were begging her to, instead, choosing to punish and drive you insane. She knew the effect she had on you; this was some sort of game to her, a punishment, and she was playing expertly. You were making a mess on the couch, so wet, she swore she had never seen you this needy and desperate for her. Upon your left ass cheek, the imprints of her five fingers stung gently as she kept slapping over the same spot whenever you'd talk back to her with an attitude or when you'd try to ride her black strap, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying this one bit.
She held your beloved vibrator dangerously close to your achingly responsive nub at the gentlest setting, but that was enough to send ripples of ecstasy coursing through your throbbing core, making your hips buck into her to seek for more, but again, she wouldn't give it to you. You groaned softly as she hovered over you, "Please, baby, fuck me, please..." You pleaded and pleaded, but she didn't budge. "What is it that you want, hm? My dick?" you whimpered when she set the purple wand pressed onto your clit to a different speed, making your hips wiggle and move around slightly; she knew you were close. "Don't you dare fucking cum without asking first" her voice ringing in your ears like a drumbeat. It was a harsh, demanding tone, but there was something almost musical about it, an undertone of raspy sensuality that turned your stomach in knots. "PleasePlease'mclose" You begged her for mercy, your voice pleading and desperate. You were completely at her mercy, utterly dependent on her for your release. "Baby..." She murmured softly, her voice like velvet laced with silk. This gentleness nonetheless held a mocking undertone that suggested further torture awaited you, leaving a few damp kisses on your back as she supported her half-upper body on your sticky and sweaty back. "If you had been home by midnight, none of this would happen." The gentle reminder hung in the air, another cruel twist of the knife, as she denied you the sweet release you so desperately sought, determined to prolong your punishment for the time being. It was the second time she was doing this, driving you fucking insane. Your walls clenched around emptiness, your whimpers growing increasingly pitiful and urgent. "Ellie... please, I'm going to cum," you pleaded softly. Unable to resist, you thrust your hips backward, seeking more of her; you needed her to fuck you badly, but she wouldn't even fucking touch you. You've been begging and begging for an hour now, still fucking nothing. When she heard you gasp, her emerald eyes traced downward, taking note of the tip of her strap, embedded in your drenched pussy. what a fucking slut, she thought to herself.
With a disapproving click of her tongue, she withdrew, leaving you to emit a frustrated whine and an empty feeling behind; your wispy brows furrowed in despair, a picture of helpless longing. "Pleasepleaseplease... need you so badly," you pleaded, your voice wavering and weak. "I want to come on your cock" You failed to persuade her, it gradually dawned on you that she was immune to your usual tactics. A mournful groan echoed through the room as she turned the toy off, your neglected clit throbbing almost painfully. "Ellie, plea-" you began, only to be silenced by her stern interruption "How many hours were you late?" but you sighed, trying to apologize again "Baby, I'm so-" Her hand landed forcefully on your asscheek, followed by a gentle caress to soothe the lingering burn. This contradiction between tenderness and roughness sent shivers through you. An involuntary yelp escaped you, your hips involuntarily flinching away, only to be swiftly guided back into position. "Answer. The. Question, slut." she steely commanded  "Three... three hours," you stammered, your voice thick with lingering desire, your breathing laborated.
Her voice, a mix of raspiness and sweetness, offered an ultimatum, "Last one before I actually let you cum, hmm?"
Three hours late, three orgasms taken away from you.
Finally thrusting into your aching hole and fucking it relentlessly just to pull out of you when you were about to cum. What a fucking dick.
Your body was trembling, your heart racing as you were completely out of breath. Every inch of you felt hypersensitive like you were on the verge of breaking apart. The sensations were overwhelming, almost too much to bear and she wasn't done with you yet.
"Please, may I now?" you implored, your gasps ragged. Mockingly, she replied, "Don't think you can handle it." Ellie teased, her voice dripping with playfulness, you could sense the mischievous grin appearing upon her freckled face in her voice, even if you couldn't see her. "You've got to be fucki-" Your protest was silenced mid-sentence, curtailed by her stern retort "Language. You want to cum or not?" Despite her harshness, amusement lurked beneath. Reaching for the forgotten lube on the coffee table, her weight shifted on her knees, her restlessness palpable; both of your and her knees were starting to hurt, but neither of you seemed to care enough. You exhaled, attempting to quell your nerves. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" she grumbled, twirling the cap between her nimble fingers. "I was worried, waiting here for you the whole time..." she confessed. "I lost track of time," you conceded, partly honest. You just wanted to drink with your friends, have fun, and stay out late. Was that so wrong?
You glanced over your shoulder, your head tilting ever so slightly, capturing her fluid motions as she opened the lube bottle, filling her palm with its slippery contents. When she noticed your fascinated gaze, she smacked your asscheek once more, this time setting your sensitive skin aflame. A whimper escaped you, "Eyes on the clock, princess," she crooned menacingly. "Needa learn how to not lose track of time, yeah?" she had this mocking tone going on, you winced "Stings..." your voice tinged with vulnerability as frustration smoldered in her eyes, eliciting a venomous "Maybe next time you''ll actually answer your fucking phone when I'm calling you" Your eyes darted to the clock hung on the wall before you, searching for some way to gauge the time that had passed. Each second felt like an eternity as your lungs burned with each breath, desperate for the relief withheld from you. The tick-tock of the clock only made the anticipation more intense, each sound like a taunt aimed at you. You couldn't help but wonder what she was planning next.
"I said I'm sorry" but your apology met deaf ears once again. "Sorry isn't enough for me, pretty" her skilled calloused fingers coated your asshole with slick; you couldn't still your restless hips, and the auburnette, anticipating your withdrawal, clasped your waist firmly. "Stop moving, damn it! Just hold still for a moment." Frustration simmered beneath her plea, your restlessness seriously testing her patience.
"Ellie!" you whined, struggling in vain, her strong grasp upon your hip muscle holding you in place. "I thought we agreed on no anal," you argued, but she swiftly shot back, "I thought we agreed you'd be home by midnight." You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes in defiance. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, your heart pounding in your ears, and yet, you were too fascinated by the power dynamic created between the two of you. 
"Fucking cunt," The words slipped from your lips unintentionally. You heard the slap before you felt it, a sharp and burning sting on your exposed skin. Your flesh felt on fire almost instantly, a reminder of the power that she held over you; the pain was an added layer to the excitement, and you were grateful for the rush of adrenaline it provided. "Still talking back, huh? Have you learned nothing?" Her voice was low but firm, a tone that shook your very core, sending chills down your spine. The power it held over you was like a drug, an exhilarating rush that left you absolutely desperate. You loved being put in your place, even if you'd never admit it out loud.
"Oh, but you can call me a whore?" She didn't even acknowledge your words, dismissing them with an airy huff. "Cause s'what you are." she muttered under her breath, her thumb tracing a wet path through your glistening folds, collecting the sweet nectar. An involuntary whimper escaped your lips, a hum of acknowledgment mingling with her words. "Look at this fuckin' pussy, god. You love when I'm mean to you, don't you?" she mused aloud. You were so fucking wet that it almost shocked her; she definitely was going to do this more often. Who knew you'd get so turned on while arguing? "Bet, this is why you always startin' shit" she accused you, chuckling dryly.
"Shut up," you pouted, she readjusted your posture with meticulous precision, her tattooed forearm brushing against her sweat-dampened brow, the silicone cock secure in her grip. She pressed the head against your resistant entrance. Before doing anything, sweet words of reassurance fell from her lips, a gentleness in her voice that you hadn't expected, but she still cared about your well-being and comfort; she loved you to death, after all. "Relax, babe... Last thing I wanna do is cause you pain." You felt your muscles relax as you listened to her; she let out a sigh before guiding it in slowly. "Fuck fuck!" Your cry of distress melted into a plea for relief, her thumbs pressing into your dimples of Venus for stability.
"Get the vibrator, baby," she commanded, pausing her invasion momentarily, allowing you to seek solace in the pulsing violet wand, the intense vibrations reducing the pain. "Ellie!" you cried out, amplifying the toy's relentless hum while she resumed her actions. "Ugh... You're so fucking tight," she grunted, her thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your spine, a balm to soothe your sensitive nerves. 
"Ahh!" you gasped as she filled you fully, her digits digging into your supple curves, latching onto tender flesh. She drove her fake cock deeper into your tight stretched passage, letting your hole adjust to her size, stretching it out so good. Your hips sought hers in response, hungrily pursuing every retreat she made, and she laughed softly as soft moans were spilled from your lips. "Ohhh look at you. You fucking brat," immaculate moans spilled forth, painting a picture of pure pleasure and pain on your features. Your eyes rolled involuntarily in the back of your skull, the wand's vibrations maintained a steady assault on your nub, and the surroundings became faint murmurs.
She paused briefly, taking note of your trembling legs before lifting you effortlessly towards her, her chest pressed against your dampened back, you could feel her hard nipples pressed against your drenched skin. Her left hand groped your budding tit, as the other replaced your quivering hand with her own, the violet toy vibrating on your aching nub with renewed vigor. Your panting cries reverberated throughout the apartment and in her ears, mixed with frustrated squirms. It was fucking music to her ears. "Baby, fuck..." You were struggling, completely blissed out of your mind. Your eyes were stuck in the back of your head, your mind lost in pleasure. The sensations were becoming too much, unbearable. The toy's vibration was set higher, causing you to squeal and squirm in her hands. It was like being caught in a whirlwind, a tornado of sensations that were pushing you on the edge. Her hand teased and twisted the nipple between her fingers, her touch almost feathery in its softness. She was in control, and you were just her plaything. She hummed back, covering the purple marks on the side of your neck with persistent kisses as her strap continued to slide in and out of you. "Close, angel?" She hummed against the soft skin of your neck, and the vibrations tickled as she moved closer pressing a few more kisses on your skin. You could feel her breath on your skin, warm and inviting. She savored every little sound you let out for her; the sounds she forced out of you were all hers. She was making you feel this good, no one else.
Your hand intertwined with the one that rested on your breast, and your other hand reached for her, your fingertips tangled in her auburn hair, as she continued to attack your neck with kisses and your tight hole with her harsh thrusts. "Close...hmmm...p-please" Your whimpers filled the air like a sweet melody, one that seemed to echo in your girlfriend's ears for a prolonged time. "Not gonna pull out this time, princess. I promise," she reassured you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, yet they held an undeniable power over you. You felt as though you were melting into her arms, "Gonna be a good girl and listen to me for once?" which had you nodding vigorously, the hand between your thighs covered by a whole waterfall, you were so wet, she could hardly believe her eyes. "Alright, bunny. Cum for me, yeah?" she didn't even need to tell you twice, you've been holding it for so long that it felt good to finally let go. A tidal wave crashed upon you, the walls of your posterior clinging desperately to her strap.
You collapsed on all fours once again, your hands sinking into the cushions of the worn-out couch. The sound of your cries filled the air, and you were completely breathless. Your chest felt like it was on fire, the heat spreading throughout your body with a ferocity that you had never felt before. The sound of her breathing mixed with your ragged breaths. She slowly pulled out of your ass and discarded the purple toy somewhere on the floor.
"I was right by the way" Ellie suddenly said, leaving you puzzled. Her tone was triumphant, and you couldn't quite figure out what she was talking about. "'Bout what?" As you struggled to catch your breath, you managed to utter a few words, each one punctuated by a deep inhale and a ragged exhale. "You're a whore" you turned around, she greeted you with a playful tone. You couldn't help but notice her rosy cheeks and the glistening of her sweaty skin, with droplets of sweat rolling down her temples. Her lips curved into a cocky smirk, making you scoff in response. "And you're a cunt." you quickly responded back in the same playful tone.
"Need me to teach you another lesson?" She teased, beckoning you to nestle on top of her, your body adhering to her freckled, sticky skin. Trying to suppress your grin, you muttered "Shut up" in a lighthearted tone; she bursted out laughing at your reaction, finding it amusing.
"You better always be on time from now on," she said in a fake stern tone, her eyes fixed on you. "I learned my lesson," you replied, trying to sound apologetic. But deep down, you knew that you were going to repeat the same mistake, just to receive this kind of attention and treatment from her again. Unable to resist the thrill and the rush of adrenaline that came with being punished scolded from her.
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¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
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moonstruckme · 1 day
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Hello, I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for something pre-relationship with James. You could write in which the reader recently moved into a building/condominium and she needs help with something, like something that needs a specific tool or dealing with a spider and she asks her neighbor (James) for help? I think it would be something cute, like love at first sight. (I'm sorry if you don't want to write, but I saw a video like this and thought it would be cool to read something about it)
Thanks for requesting lovely!
neighbor!James x fem!reader ♡ 868 words
James almost doesn’t hear the knocking the first time. It’s hardly more than a couple of light taps, like someone might have bumped their bag into his door as they went by. Still, it gets his attention. James pauses in cutting up melon for tomorrow’s breakfast, head angling towards his front door. 
It comes again, a bit less tentative this time, and he sets down his knife, wiping his hands on a dishtowel before going to the door. 
You’re standing in the hall with your arms crossed tight against the nighttime chill that seeps into the building, wearing fuzzy slippers and what are quite clearly pajamas. You give him James a terse smile, looking somewhere between apologetic and panic-stricken. 
“Hi,” you say, at the same time as he says, “Hello.” 
Your smile blooms a bit more genuinely at that, and James is glad for it. You’re quite lovely when you look at him like that. It makes him wish he was wearing something other than his pajama bottoms or had brushed his teeth after his garlicky dinner. 
“Hi,” you say again. “Um, I’m really sorry to bother you this late, but I’ve just moved in next door and I was wondering if you could help me with something?” 
“Of course,” he agrees. No context needed. James prides himself on being neighborly, but he thinks he’d probably do just about anything you ask him to. “What is it?” 
“There’s a cockroach in my living room.” You deliver the news with a grave face, like his revoking his offer of help is predetermined. “I’ve been trying to put a cup over it for, like, twenty minutes probably, but it’s too fast and I can’t really corner it by myself.” 
“Ah.” James steps outside, closing his door behind him. “Alright, yeah, I’m sure we can take care of that. Lead the way, lovely.” 
You take a bolstering breath before stepping into your apartment, making him grin. It really is just right next to his, and this knowledge seems like a dangerous thing to have. James is going to have to start playing his music a tad lower and making sure he looks decent every time he goes outside. 
Just inside the door, there’s a broom propped against the wall. You take it up. 
“Okay,” you say, awfully serious for someone in fuzzy slippers wielding a broom, “I was thinking I’d get him into that corner there, and then you could put the cup over him.” You nod towards a cup turned facedown on the coffee table. James picks it up. Some of the determination slips from your expression, eyebrows twitching towards each other, as you look at him. “Sorry to drag you into this. I really appreciate it.” 
“It’s really fine,” James laughs. “This isn’t the first time someone has called me over to take care of a bug, and you live a lot closer than my mate did at the time.” In the period in between James and Sirius living together and Sirius moving in with Remus, his friend had forced James over to his flat at least twice a week so that he could trap spiders under cups while Sirius shrieked “Kill it! Kill it!” from atop his kitchen table. 
You grimace. “Well, it’s good to know you’ve had practice. Okay, last I saw him he was under the couch. Ready?” 
James nods, holding the cup in his hand. 
You sweep the broom tentatively underneath the couch, starting at one end at working your way to the other. Just when James is starting to come to terms with the idea that the roach has moved to an unknown location, it skitters out from that opposite end. 
You go after it with impressive grit, blocking its attempted escape underneath a nearby chair and herding it towards the corner. 
“Ready?” You don’t take your eyes from the bug for a second, but James nods anyways as he steps forward, cup held aloft. 
The roach runs into the corner, and James descends upon it. He lowers the cup quickly, not wanting the small creature to catch on and rebel against its eviction, but the thing moves quicker. 
It flies towards him. 
James makes a not-super-dignified yelping sound and trips backward, landing fortunately in the chair. You shriek and swat at it with the broom, missing by a meter. You both track the cockroach as it lands on a wall. 
“Fuck,” James breathes. He’s aware that he’s not making a great impression right now, but he feels like he’s just been attacked. “You didn’t tell me it was one of those flying ones!”
“I didn’t think it was!” You’re clutching the broom handle in a white-knuckled grip, your eyes wide. “It wasn’t doing that earlier!” 
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, it’s fine. We’ve still got this. Just, ah, if you decide you’d like to abandon this, sleep at my place, and call pest control in the morning, I’m just saying right now that’d be more than alright with me.” 
You meet his eyes. “Think I’m gonna try a bit more first, but I might take you up on that. Thanks.” 
James grins. “No worries. Always good to have a backup plan.”
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ma1dita · 2 days
Text
pushover
luke castellan x dionysus!reader
a/n: usually you’re the one stitching Luke up but the one time he gets to do it for you, he knows you’re milking it. no trouble!verse tags, can be standalone -> she’s an ACTRESS okay? who tf wouldn’t want luke to kiss a booboo; this was a forgotten draft for my partners in crime series feel free to read
wc: 1.2k
“OWWWW!”
The sun shines again on Camp Half-Blood peeking through Luke’s dark curls as he towers over you, laughing from his position above. Your knee is scraped after cushioning your fall, or perhaps your attack, after Luke thought it’d be funny to push you again as he walked past.
Well, today’s been kind of boring, so might as well make the most of it right? 
As a daughter of Dionysus, you do love to put on a good show.
There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye as you do your best to convince him that he’s maimed you but as his eyes fall to the slightly aggravated skin, Luke sighs at the way you look like a kicked puppy, lower lip jutting out as you squint up at him.
“Stop being so overdramatic. It wasn’t that serious.”
“YOU SHOVED ME INTO A BUSH!” 
The howl that leaves your throat catches the attention of other campers, who are familiar with your dramatics and your penchant for picking a fight with the son of Hermes. Luke sighs and runs his hands through his hair, groaning in embarrassment. 
Gods forbid he look like the bad guy.
“Seriously, trouble— you're acting like I pushed you off a cliff,” he grumbles finally crouching down to reach for your leg to check how serious it is. 
It’s not.
“You're a barbarian. Just because you think it's funny to push me around doesn't mean it actually is! Luke.... I can't walk! It feels like my bone is coming through. And I have so much work to do today, and now I'm gonna have to walk super slow…” you groan, still on the ground. Luke rolls his eyes and once he's checked the injury (the whole menacing palm-sized scrape) his expression softens the tiniest bit. He’s still kinda pissed off at you for being a drama queen though.
“Alright, it's not life-threatening so you're going to be fine. Look, I can carry you if I have to.”
Batting his hand away you roll your eyes, “Like I'd let you. You'd probably toss me into the lake again.” 
Luke smirks, “Probably, but I swear to the gods that I wouldn't do anything to maim you. Not on purpose at least.” It’s almost criminal how easy it is to get on your nerves—he thinks you’ve finally shut your trap until he watches you fake crawl away to get a reaction out of him. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to everyone watching so he scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. Luke chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your squirming frame so you won't fall as he begins walking.
“So difficult. I swear…”
“Me? Never!” you groan, flopping in his arms like a dead body. Your dead weight makes his arms strain a little but his muscles are fun to look at from any angle, so… 
You miss it when he starts speaking again, “You're too much, you know that?” A smirk grows upon your face, “And you can't get enough. The infirmary is the other way, Castellan....” Luke huffs as he turns 180 towards the infirmary, sighing softly at the way you are sprawled in his arms. But he keeps quiet because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Something about the realization that he’d only do this for you makes him bite his lip in thought. But you think he’s trying to not laugh at you.
“What? You maim me and then you make fun of me? Haven't you done enough?” The words slip by as you peek at him through one open eye, his cheeks flushed and rosy. Hopefully, his brawn won’t expire on the short trek to the infirmary.
“You're lucky I don't drop you right now,” Luke jostles you with a lopsided grin he can’t hide anymore and it steadily gets bigger at the sound of your surprise.
“Don't you DARE, Luke Castellan!” 
Grabbing onto his mop of curls, the boy winces as his nose brushes against your wrist, and the shockwaves it sends through your system are enough to send you reeling. Maybe it’s the way you almost sway with each step he takes, smooth and steady like a sailboat even when he’s carrying you like this.
He ends up having to carry you inside the infirmary and the Apollo kids on shift stop and stare at their two best counselors in the doorway. Luke tries to ignore them, setting you down on an empty cot and getting the medical supplies he needs to treat your wound. He looks at you propped on the bed like a little princess, cross-legged and fluttering eyelashes waiting for him to clean you up. It's not serious enough for ambrosia, he thinks, so he grabs an alcohol wipe instead.
Luke looks like he's trying his hardest not to smirk as he grabs your leg and begins carefully cleaning the scrape.
“Ow! Gentle! When I patch you up after you spar I don't do it maliciously!”
“I am being gentle, stop wriggling!” Luke grits his teeth as he continues to wipe the drying blood away. He's trying to be careful, but he's clearly irritated that you're not making this easy for him.
Tossing your knee over his lap and getting closer, suddenly you go quiet at the proximity. There’s something intimate about being tended to so delicately in a room filled with people. A quiet in the chaos reserved for only the two of you.
“So what, you think I'm too good for ambrosia? Sending me off to heal like a mortal— what type of nurse are you?”
“You drunk on ambrosia for a scrape would definitely make your dad thrilled and have the both of us cleaning the stables for the rest of the week,” Luke lets out a brief snicker as he meets your gaze, rolling your eyes as you lean against the wall. His hand unconsciously rubs circles into the skin above your knee, featherlight yet firm at the same time. You try to ignore the goosebumps that rise in its wake.
Luke doesn't say anything about it while he continues to look at you. He realizes that you look quite pretty even with windswept hair and dirt on your cheek, but he can't let you see that he's noticed. Something shifts in the air of the infirmary, more overpowering than the smell of antiseptic and it bubbles in both of your chests, overflowing and seeping into the small space between you.
Not bad for a boring day, you suppose. You make him piggyback you for the rest of the day in an attempt to guilt-trip him. But the huge smile on his face has all of your campers thinking otherwise.
The next day, he sees you walking perfectly fine. In fact, with the way you’re rushing to scold a Hephaestus kid for almost setting the armory on fire, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you move that fast in your life.
Warmth settles on your cheeks as your eyes dart between the kid you’re yelling at and Luke’s narrowing eyes from afar, and you can’t quite tell if the rush of emotions is from what you’re doing versus who you’re really looking at.
Maybe the next time he pushes you around he’ll find out.
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kotoku · 3 days
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Hiii~
Can I request aventurine and Dr ratio (separately or together ur choice) with klee reader
Maybe Sunday too?
I just want chaos to unfold-
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Take care ☺️
ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋʟᴇᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
pairings - sunday & klee! reader / aventurine & klee! reader / dr ratio & klee! reader
content - reader is gender-neutral/ klee! reader/ platonic relationships/ familial relationships/ chaos
warnings - a bit of angst (?), might be ooc i'm sorry guys T_T
⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙
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↻ Whether you met Sunday because you’ve been unknowingly stirring up trouble in the dreamscapes or you met him by chance, he’d be a bit worried and concerned about a child roaming alone in Penacony
↺ He may or may not slowly adopt you into his routine as he always finds himself being greeted by you on the streets of Penacony (or called by a family member because mayhem has been occurring in certain parts of the dreamscapes)
↺ Gazing upon the damage you had done in the dreamscape as you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, he couldn’t be upset with you but rather surprised by how much power this unknown child has
↻ Sunday would be a lot like Jean, but he’d be a little more lenient when it comes to you
↺ He’d probably have a small area/room that’s your designated play area whenever you’re with him and sometimes he’d have to give you a time-out for blowing up something in the dreamscape
↺ Said time out wouldn’t last long as he’d feel guilty looking at your saddened state
↻ Sometimes whenever the other family members had a meeting with Sunday, they would see you playing around with your favorite stuffed animal but wouldn’t dare question your presence (you had quite the reputation for being.. explosive…)
↻ I think when it comes to each character with a Klee! Reader, they’d have those animal backpacks with the leash attached to it just because you’re so chaotic
↺ One moment they would be walking with you and then the next you’ve run off to somewhere that caught your attention
↺ For Sunday’s mental well-being, he got you this backpack to help him keep an eye on you whenever you were distracted
↻ As I mentioned in previous posts, Sunday, whenever he’s anxious or worried for you, would pace around his office with his feathers just puffing up and some of them popping right off due to his stress
↺ When you are found safe and sound, he’d give you a tight hug and you’d start playing with the feathers that were scattered on the ground
↺ He’s.. amused by it
↻ Honestly, Sunday had no idea what to do with you as you were found to be alone and it didn’t seem like you knew any of your family members (Just going to ignore Albedo and Klee’s mother for my sake…)
↺ Eventually, he warmed up to you a lot and considers you his little sister, which Robin also adores having around
↻ Sunday would be very protective of you but a little.. nervous about your abilities, he knew to an extent you were capable of handling things yourself
↺ But you are still a child so he’s extra cautious about the dangers in the dreamscapes and makes sure that you don’t get into trouble
↺ Otherwise, he’d have to confiscate your bombs.. which he really didn’t want to do because then you’d be super upset
↺ He tried to confiscate them one time but that ended up with you ignoring him for the remainder of the day and you were sulking in your playroom
↻ Sunday, during the Charmony Festival, would keep a very close eye on you because of what has been going on within Penacony
↺ He’ll keep you in his line of sight at all times, whether it’s him personally accompanying you around or having you sit near him in his conference room, he wouldn’t want you wandering too far off
↺ You’d find Sunday mumbling to himself while looking at some documents, but you never really understood them so you always stuck to what you were doing
↻ Sunday is very fond of you, and he’d do anything to ensure your safety
-----
Sunday was seated at his conference table, hand holding his chin in thought as he scanned through the multitude of documents. He carefully looked them over and over again, thoroughly reading through the letters written by a family member he assigned an assignment to. 
With the Charmony Festival coming in full swing, Sunday wanted to make sure that things would run as smoothly as possible, despite the growing concern that was nagging him from the depths of his consciousness. He couldn’t afford to become distracted…
That is what he thought, but yet he still found himself engaging in your little antics. Although things were growing busier and busier by the day, he wanted to ensure that you were alright and safe, playing a couple of your games when you pleaded for him to stay. He didn’t find the idea of playing with bombs safe, but if it was what made you happy, then your wish was his command.
As he stood up to roam the halls of his mansion, he gazed out into the open through the grand windows, a million thoughts racing through his mind. The future of Penacony contained countless outcomes and he could only grow restless every time he thought of it. But having you around to distract him from his worries with your silly antics, even if for just a fleeting moment, made him feel as if everything was going to be alright…
He would make sure of that.
-----
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↻ Aventurine would also find your chaotic nature interesting, in fact, he might even indulge in it by taking a role in your little schemes
↺ He’d be a little concerned when you go a bit too far with your bombs and antics, so he’d try nudging you into a not-so-concerning situation
↻ Aventurine would find you when you got into a little scuffle with his subordinates, somehow destroying some IPC property and getting an earful from his coworkers
↺ Those IPC grunts would be terrified of you if they saw what you could do, especially because you’re a CHILD playing with BOMBS (They’re seriously concerned about who raised you and why you are the way you are.. or how you even managed to have bombs on you??)
↻ He’d send them off to go do something else (or to go bother someone else..) and bend down to your level to ask about your guardians or caregiver
↺ When you are confused about what he is talking about, his concern would only grow before he’d take you to find a trusted person to watch over you as he was busy with an assignment
↺ However, he would only come back to find that you escaped a worker’s watchful gaze and were playing with that bomb toy you had on you (Docodo? Cododo?? Whatever you said its name was…)
↻ When Aventurine hangs around you a little more during his free time (whether he’s done with work or doesn’t feel up to gambling), inquiring about the little fella you had on you and about your background
↺ He’d kind of take you under his wing from there on out, having you accompany him on missions if he determined they weren’t dangerous and were minor assignments
↺ Topaz would find it surprising seeing him around with a little kid, she’d even be wary about his intentions with you as he had suddenly popped up with a small kid out of nowhere
↺ She’d introduce you to Numby who, to your delight, would play and spend a bit of time with you
↻ Sometimes you’d accompany Aventurine on his casino trips, but he’d try leaving you out of them as it wasn’t really a kid-friendly setting
↺ So sometimes you’d in up in a more appropriate setting like a small daycare where you were safe (yet you’d sometimes pop up next to him in a game and catch him off guard)
↻ Aventurine, as someone with a lot of money to freely spend, would spoil you with a variety of things that he’d think you would like
↺ You aren’t necessarily a spoiled child, but he’d still get you the things that have caught your interest, whether you voice what you liked or not
↻ When he passes by a shop that has a showcase of kid backpacks, he would see one with a plush animal and a leash and he’d automatically get it for you 
↺ You wouldn’t really care about the leash part as you’re too distracted by the cute plush animal backpack, so it really was no problem for Aventurine
↺ He’d be walking around the IPC’s headquarters or Penacony with the backpack leash in his hand, you following him yet straying whenever you saw something
↺ He’d have to give the leash a small tug to make sure you weren’t wandering too far off though
↻ If you did something dangerous such as blowing up something that belongs to the IPC, Aventurine would vouch for you, becoming your partner in crime (Him sending a sly wink your way as you giggle innocently, hands covering your mouth to stifle your laughter) 
↺ Topaz would be the one scolding you before Aventurine tries defending your honor, but then he’d end up getting scolded by her too
↻ Aventurine would try his best to protect your innocence, not wanting you to see the dangers that linger on the different worlds he ends up on or what may invade the IPC’s headquarters
↺ He’s seen and witnessed firsthand hand of losing his innocence at a young age, those memories of his past still haunt him to this day and he doesn’t want you living with the same burden so he tries his best to protect you from danger (even if you’re somewhat capable of protecting yourself)
-----
“_____, did you destroy a piece of the IPC’s belongings again!?” Topaz asked, a stern look on her face as you stood there innocently with your hands tucked behind your back. 
“No… I didn’t do anything I swear! You can even ask Dodoco!” You answered, shoving Dodoco out in front of you as if to emphasize your statement. Topaz sighed, shaking her head.
“_____… I know you want to play around but sometimes you need to be careful of where you are. You could get hurt or, well.. damage things that aren’t yours.” Crossing her arms, Topaz looked at you with a softer gaze. You persisted in your stance. 
“But I swear! I didn’t do it!” You cried out, holding Dodoco closer to your chest. “Y-you can even ask Mr. Aventurine!”
“I heard my name?” Aventurine slinked to the spot right next to you, giving Topaz a questioning yet sly look. Topaz couldn’t help but groan when he popped up next to you, feeling as if she was on the verge of being teamed up against. 
“Mr. Aventurine! Please tell Miss Topaz that I wasn’t the one who blew up some of the IPC’s equipment!” You begged, tugging at his coat as he looked down at you with his cat-like eyes. 
He gave you a closed-eyed smile, patting the top of your head. “Is that what’s going on? Well, I have unfortunate news for you Topaz, as little _____ here was busy helping me out with an assignment.” Aventurine had a smug smile on his face as if to tease Topaz and tick her off, which worked.
Topaz, rolling her eyes, heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, I believe you, _____. You can go run off and play now.” 
With a joyful smile on your face and a cheer, you thanked Topaz before turning to thank Aventurine, bowing slightly with a quiet giggle.
“Thank you Mr. Aventurine! Promise we’ll play next time?” 
“I promise, _____. Now go play with Dodoco in your room, okay? I’ll check up on you later when I’m done with work.” 
“Okay!” 
-----
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↻ Dr Ratio wasn’t necessarily fond of children…
↺ He understood that they weren’t the brightest of stars, but he could barely handle some of the behaviors they exhibited
↺ I imagine he’d be so disgusted because of how kids can be known for doing the weirdest stuff… (Picking their boogers, touching a variety of items, being unsanitary... the list goes on)
↻ When he meets you for the first time, he’s curious about the construction of your bombs and how you were able to make them
↺ To his disappointment, you are only able to draw crude drawings of the construction of your bombs and poorly explain how you built them
↺ He takes it upon himself to sample one of your bombs to see what they’re made of and how they’re made
↻ You’d invite him (more like drag him) to help you create and play with your bombs and he’d reluctantly follow you to where your room is
↺ Aventurine walking in on you playing dolls (or your bombs) with Ratio
-----
“How are you doing?”
“Mister Ratio, say it in your girl voice.”
“Sigh… How you doin’? 💅”
*Aventurine laughing before Ratio throws the doll he’s holding at him*
-----
↻ Ratio, knowing him, would tutor you if you went to a daycare or school, helping you understand your homework and teaching you about different subjects
↺ You wouldn’t comprehend half the things he’s teaching you but you follow along anyway
↺ Ratio would be genuinely happy if you were able to learn something new from him and apply it to your life
↻ Ratio is the type of teacher figure to give you random quizzes to test your knowledge and understanding but he rewards you with things like snacks or trinkets he gets from his trips
↻ Ratio would be delighted to talk about his trips to you, explaining the history and geography of the planets he has traveled to you when he comes back
↺ He would draw a small map for you to understand the general location of the places he’s visited
↻ You’d be excited to learn about what places he’s seen and you’d ask him a myriad of questions to which he’d patiently listen and answer 
↺ The thought of Ratio being patient with a young child warms my heart, this is how he’d find out that maybe he can tolerate specific kids
↻ Ratio reading stories to you to help you fall asleep, but those stories would probably be academic books he uses to teach his students
↻ If you were to get in trouble for blowing something up, he’d show his disappointment and sternly give you a punishment that isn’t too harsh on you (he’d give you school work lol)
↺ Ratio would check in on you here and there when you’re in your room, if he finds that you’re asleep he’d tuck you in before looking over your work
↺ This makes me think of Ratio walking in to see that you had drawn him an artwork of the both of you with Dodoco (who he came to know as your prized friend)
↻ Ratio doesn’t have a clue who your parents or guardians are, so he tries to locate them at first to no avail (he ends up pretty much adopting you as his own kid)
↻ Sometimes you’d sit near his desk in his lecture hall when he was teaching his students, swinging your legs back and forth as you eyed everyone in the room
↺ His students find you adorable and get distracted by your presence at first before their professor sends them a chalk their way
↺ His students give you little gifts or snacks as they leave the room, a part of them hoping that Ratio’s rampage on his grade book will be softened by your happiness at the gifts you received
↺ He finds out what his students are doing, but lets them do it anyway since it’s making you happy (he’d probably set some limits though before you get way too much stuff)
-----
Veritas had just finished up his lecture with his students, organizing their work into neat stacks on one side of his desk. Once the last student had left his classroom, he took off his plaster head and sat it in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he saw a small empty chair to the left of his desk. It was where you normally sat. 
The violet-haired man was then reminded of your absence due to the sudden sickness you had caught the day before. With a sigh, he turned back towards the ungraded stacks of paper on his desk and got to work. He’d try to be home before midnight. 
…..
By the time he finished, it was already 9. Walking out of the campus, he was met with the emptiness the night brought with it. Students were already long gone, the handful of teachers that had stayed late already packed up and left for dinner, but he was running a bit late. So with a brisk pace, he set off in the direction of his home, the cool night air hitting his skin.
Once Veritas reached his destination, he quickly unlocked the door and went inside, the warmth of his home greeting him. His shoulders fell, the weight that had been put upon himself leaving his body as he could see a faint light coming from your room. 
Slipping off his outerwear, he quietly walked across the hardwood floors and stopped outside of your bedroom door. Veritas listened for any signs that you might be awake, but nothing. He placed his hand on the door and gently pushed it open so he was able to enter. 
You had left your bedside lamp on, with a couple of papers and crayons scattered across the desk you normally drew at. His eyes had landed on your small, curled-up form, snoring away beneath the comforters of your bed. He softly chuckled to himself, walking towards your bed and lifting the blanket so it reached your shoulders. You had stirred but only shuffled to get comfortable. Placing a small kiss on your forehead, Veritas got up to put away the crayons and papers you had left out.
While picking up and putting away the crayons in the correct order that was directed on the box, the bright, grainy colors on a paper caught his eye. He gently picked up a piece of paper that you seemed to have been working on while he was gone. It was a drawing of the both of you in a field of flowers, your best friend, Dodoco, in between the both of you. Veritas had to admit that it was cute, a small smile appearing on his face before he gathered the rest of your drawings and slid them into a folder. 
When he had finished making sure that everything was neatly put away, Veritas moved to turn off the lamp, wishing you sweet dreams. 
-----
⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙
note - hey ya'll.. nice weather we've got here... 😀 i really need to blast through my requests-- wearesobackipromise.
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drurrito · 1 day
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Night Drive (18+)
Summary: You get a new car
AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader
----------------
You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.
You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.
"Hey baby."
Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.
"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.
"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.
"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.
Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.
"And if we get pulled over?"
"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.
"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.
It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.
----------------
Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.
Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.
You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.
Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.
Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.
"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.
"Natasha, please."
"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.
"What did I tell you?"
"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.
"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.
"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.
Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.
Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.
"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.
"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.
Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.
"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.
"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.
Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.
"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.
Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.
"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.
"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.
"I'm gonna come so fast."
"I know baby."
That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.
"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?
Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.
"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
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Part two to this story
After Jason's cruel display and your identity of Eddie's admirer being public knowledge, you're sure he will be disgusted. He hates you and your friends doesn't he?
Turns out you're in for a big surprise.
Minors shoo! Angst, fluff, sweet Eddie and reader taking no shit.
If you have any requests then send me an ask. My request rules are in my pinned post ❤️
🎀💌
Hellfire Slut. The words had practically burned into your brain as you tossed and turned in bed. Jason's cruelty was nothing new but you didn't think he'd ever go this far.
It was bad enough that Eddie's best friend had caught you in the act of delivering the notes and the thought he could spill all to Eddie, you didn't expect your secret to come out in such a public way.
The notes that you had poured your heart to Eddie had been clear to see by everyone and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn't care that people knew you were smitten with Eddie, it was the fact that he was probably disgusted that you had feelings for him.
You dreaded going to school but you knew you had to face Eddie and Jason at some point. It didn't stop nightmares plaguing your mind all night about what would happen come first period.
...
Homeroom was the first thing today before any other classes, you try not to draw attention to yourself as you slide into a seat at the back of class. However it feels like all eyes are on you today, Chrissy takes the seat beside you and holds your hand giving it a tight squeeze, it makes you feel a tiny bit better.
Mrs Jones isn't in class yet so chatter buzzes around you incessantly, your skin tingles as you feel Eddie's gaze on you a few times, try not to look up into those pretty brown eyes.
One of Jason's friends called Tyler smirks at you, he's sitting beside Jason and says loudly for all to hear. "So little miss perfect likes a freak in the sheets huh? Who would have thought?" there's a little ripple of laughter that's quelled by Chrissy's vicious glare. She's normally a sweetie so swing her pissed shut everyone up.
Ignore him. Just ignore him you chant in your head but he still continues. "You know I was going to ask you out but fuck that. You're a dumb little bitch"
There's a collective silence as you hear Eddie's metal lunchbox drop to the floor. To your surprise he's glaring daggers at Tyler, you also notice that his knuckles are bruised. What the hell happened?
"Oooh you're in luck sweetcheeks, maybe Munson likes you back and the two of you can be freaks together"
You're fraying control over being calm snaps. Screw this. You weren't going to sit and let him run his mouth or let anyone like him or Jason make you cry again.
"You can admit to everyone you're jealous Tyler it's okay. We all heard about the little problem you have, Stacy told us all about how disappointing you are" you fake a sympathetic smile at him and his eyes nearly bug out of his sockets.
Jason looks ready to say something but you don't give the satisfaction of listening to the bullshit he says. "I couldn't be less interested in what you have to say Carver, you're a pathetic, nasty little worm"
While sassing Jason you miss the look of awe on Eddie's face. Gareth snorts at Eddie's stunned look.
"Dude, I really do think I'm in love" Eddie murmurs sounding almost reverent. Gareth sighs. Maybe now Eddie knew it was you that sent the notes the two of you could get together and he could get a minute of peace.
Meanwhile you lean back in your seat relieved as Mrs Jones comes in. There's still a question that's nagging at you though.
"Chrissy, why are Eddie's knuckles bruised?"and that's when Chrissy launches into the tale of how Eddie punched Jason after you left yesterday.
Hearing this makes a small bubble of hope build up inside of you. Maybe just maybe Eddie feeling the same for you might not be as hopeless as you first thought.
...
After a few fruitless attempts Eddie manages to track you down as you're coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy. She gives you an impish, knowing smile as she leaves you and Eddie to talk.
Telling Jason and Tyler what you thought about them made you feel a little bit better for a while, boosted your shattered confidence but now Eddie was around and you could feel that confidence crack.
What was he about to say? Was he going to tell you he was disgusted?
"You don't have to be nervous princess" you feel your nerves dissipate at his soothing tone.
"I know you thought the notes were a joke but they aren't Eddie, I've really fallen for you. I was crushing on you for such a long time. That's why I wrote the notes in the first place, I was worried if I told you in person that you would be disappointed" the words all come out in a rush and you feel relieved getting it all out.
He shakes his head. "I mean I would have been surprised but the way you spoke in the notes...how could you ever think I'd ever be disappointed sweetheart?" His words fill you with hope, a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest.
"You know because I'm from the dark side" you murmur and he frowns. His hand reaches out to hold yours and you wince at the bruising on his knuckles.
"You didn't need to do that Eddie, I don't want you hurt" he shrugs as if it's no big deal.
"It was worth it. You're worth it"
Eddie gently takes your hand and kisses it, "I fell in love with you through what you said sweetheart, I want to know all about you. I don't give a fuck about who you're friends with or if you're part of the dark side. I just want to be with you".
A slow smile works it's way on your face and you lean forward and kiss him, continue kissing him until you're both a little dazed and smiling goofily at each other.
"Uh maybe we could go out for Milkshakes after school, if you want princess?" you nod feeling the bubble of excitement in your belly.
After all that worrying you were going on your first date with Eddie and you couldn't wait.
Maybe happy endings were possible after all ❤️
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teaboot · 3 days
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Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)
Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.
This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.
If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.
You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.
It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!
Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.
Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.
At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.
Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.
And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.
The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.
Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.
If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.
This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.
Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.
Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?
It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.
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puppetmaster13u · 3 days
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The Au is Ra has been using the Lazarus pits for so long that causes him to see Danny like a human or his normal Phantom form Ra the only one that sees Danny like that
I love the idea of Deadly Decision getting together but Ra has no idea that Danny is no human he just thinks that Danny has his own Lazarus pit hidden somewhere away from him
Like Danny is full blown glowing white hair, green eyes, Sharp Fangs, an electrical being
Ra point at tall being of Life And Death it looks like he's about to rip you apart: This Is My Wife Danny.
Like sometimes people just ask him if he sees anything unhumanly about Danny and
Ra is like: What Are You Talking About ?
Danny's in the background forming Stars into his hand I'm trying to make himself a new sword
Talia and Dusan we're raised by Danny and Ra they just gotten used to also considering getting to be a normal human they find it hilarious to play along with their other two siblings Dan and Danielle that Mom is human
Slade: I've been meaning to ask what about that monster Ra has locked up back there
Talia: You Mean Mother
Slade: that's your mother I didn't know Ra al Ghul was attracted to on human beings
Dusan: what do you mean unhumanly our mother is perfectly normal he's not even assassin
Danielle walking out of his shadow: Maybe Your Mother Was The Weird One
Dan floating near Talia: Get the hell out how dare you disrespect our Mama
All of them are girlboss, gatekeep, and gaslight people into believe Danny is normal
Damien will give warning that his grandmother does not look like a Human they were all expecting meta not electric being
Danny got so used to Ra al Ghul no his Husban treating him like a normal person when he's like this that he forgot that everyone might not that treat him like that
Honestly? I love this.
And you know what? Danny might need someone like that, who even as his humanity slips away still treats him as human, as not an eldritch creature of Space, of everything Between. Someone who treats him as well, him. Is his and Ras relationship healthy? Well maybe not in human terms, but do either of them count as such anymore?
The idea of the kids playing along is also amazing lol. Especially that Jordan and Ellie? Definitely same hat as Danny. Sure their forms still look sort of human, but that just makes it very uncanny valley. So others and siblings who treat them the same? They need it just as much- if nothing else than to not become so arrogant and uncaring of humanity that they could watch the world end without a blink.
Which, Damian! I bet Danny absolutely adores the grandbaby. I bet he crafts little ice bats and miniature planets to swirl above his crib. I bet he has a literal strip of space and stars on his ceiling. And Damian isn't the only grandbaby too- Dusan has a daughter in some timelines too. Not to mention Ras' adoptive daughter Nyssa, who he gave one of the Lazarus Pits to.
But speaking of Damian, I have to know what that would mean for Jason. Who was practically completely braindead before being thrown into the Pit. Who would have probably met Danny while there because I can't see Danny not also gently doting on another grandson.
Gosh I honestly am just really enjoying this whole thing lol.
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nicromancytarot · 1 day
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YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.
PILE 1
7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.
8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.
9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.
10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)
12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.
1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.
2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.
3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)
3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)
4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.
5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.
6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.
7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.
10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.
PILE 2
5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.
7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.
10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.
5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)
7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.
Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.
PILE 3
4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.
7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.
8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.
8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.
10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.
12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.
2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.
3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.
5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.
7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.
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Derin, I haven’t read the story about the definitely totally normal spaceship yet, but just based on all the asks you get about it, I think your definition of normal might be, possibly, maybe, just a little bit, off
It's probably the readers' definition that's off
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shdysders · 2 days
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dorothea
pairing: jenna ortega & female reader
summary: in which jenna left her small town to chase down hollywood dreams, that meant leaving you too.
word count: 1.5k
author’s note: fully based on taylor swift’s song dorothea. lmk what u think!
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Growing apart.
It was like a curse.
A curse that nobody could escape or prevent from happening. It happens to the best of people. Even to people that thought they'd be friends for an infinite amount of time. 
It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are, what you want, and everything might be different from what your best friend want to do.
Although that wasn't the case for you and Jenna.
Like two peas in a pod, that's what family and friends would use to describe your friendship. You were always together and never apart.
Sleepovers every weekend and playdates for hours on days that were free. Shared birthday parties and same celebrity crushes. Same dreams for the future and same fears of dying or aging.
It wasn't shocking, really; you and Jenna were more alike than she was with her own siblings.
You sometimes found yourself wondering if Jenna ever stopped her busy lifestyle to think about you and what you used to be.
If she ever thought about the nights were you found yourself in each others rooms, pulling all nighters and gossiping about whatever til it was almost sunrise.
Laughing until your stomach's began hurting, which always ended up with your parents telling you guys to quiet down.
Or when you guys would run down to the park and play on the swings, whenever you had spent hours listening to your mom and dad fighting, sometimes even trying to joke about the things they had yelled. Making a lark of the misery.
When you guys would write your own scripts, for the movies you guys were going to direct when growing up, where you would be the stars.
Or when you would act them out, whether it was in recess at school, or in the middle of the night.
That was all memories now, just thoughts that would eventually come back to the surface of the mind, in a faded and distant manner.
Jenna had other people to relive those memories with now. Shiny new friends that she had managed to get since she left town, the small settlement were everybody knew everyone.
Everybody knew who Jenna was in the town where you grew up, but they knew who you were too. Now everyone in the whole world knew who Jenna was, and you remained being known in a petite village, nowhere else.
The only place you would see Jenna now was at a tiny screen in a cinema hall or in vogue magazines. It was where you and her had planned to be together. Supermodels in fancy clothes, like the clothes you would steal from her older sisters.
However, you had nothing but good and well wishes for her, you truly hoped that she was living her best life, and based on the articles and headlines you saw, it looked like she was.
Just because you weren't able to get the life you wished for didn't mean she couldn't have it, she wanted it too, and she deserved it, you knew that.
The town was the same as it ever was. Nothing had changed since Jenna left for other things, which she probably would've have liked.
Jenna had always wanted to just get away.
Away from the small town where you could barely have any secrets without everybody figuring it out.
Ever since you were six years old, you and Jenna had been making up a whole plan on how everything would go down. The plan of escaping to Hollywood.
How you would make it there after hours of trains and buses, and when you would arrive, everyone would know who you were, the second you stepped a foot into the town.
And even though Jenna already got that, without having to escape in secret and without anyone knowing. You hoped she knew that it would never be too late to come back to your side. Even after the way she left you.
Although you knew she wouldn't return home, especially not since you knew how her eyes looked when she was acting back when you were younger. All filled with stars of excitement and wonder, you could remember.
You didn't see that glow in her eyes anymore, not on social media nor in articles about interviews. She looked tired, tired from being known and always being in the spotlight, tried from being known for being in contact with other famous people.
And if she ever started to doubt her current friends; unsure if they were consorting with her because of her popularity or not, either that or if she was just overly tired of them, you hoped she was aware that she would always know you, if she wanted to.
Jenna was currently one of the most known actors in the whole wide world, people talked about her everywhere. She was like a queen, part of the royal family, but the 'none regal' kind.
She was selling dreams by just signing autographs, partnering with make up brands to sell products, being in the cover of magazines of all kinds, she was selling everything. And from her you'd buy anything.
Did she ever stop and think of you?
Did she ever think about the time you skipped half of the high school prom just to piss her mom off?
You remembered that night like it was yesterday. None of you had dates for the night, and eventually you guys got bored of all the dancing and seeing couples kissing, so you ran off, making her mother go absolute insane; she was all for the proms and pageant schemes.
Jenna also loved dressing up and playing with clothes, you always used to do that when you were having play dates as kids, and embarrassingly enough it happened a few times while you were older as well.
Now Jenna was dressing up in fancy clothes for what it seemed like every week, cameras constantly flashing onto her for perfect pictures, people screaming for her attention.
Everybody wanted to be her. Everybody wanted to be Jenna Ortega.
Even your friends spoke about her and how they wanted to be a famous actor in Hollywood. However, you couldn't find yourself focusing on that.
All the thoughts that came to mind was if Jenna still had the same soul as the one you met under the bleachers.
It had been in the first day of first grade, when the teacher had been introducing the class to all of the rooms and halls.
And when it had been time for the gym area to be shown, you got scared of all the people and ran behind the bleachers to hide. By the time you'd gotten there, a brunette was already there.
She was shorter than you, her hair was the same length as yours, and eyes were darker. A friendship necklace was draped around her neck, and when you had asked her who the other half belonged to, she had replied that nobody had it, and that you could have it if you wanted to.
You would probably never find out if she was the same person with the same generous soul now, you weren't sure if she even remembered the time you first met, if she even remembered you at all.
She probably didn't remember the time you guys had your first kiss with each other. It was only practice for future reference and eventual middle school crushes, but it was still a great memory of yours.
Memories of her were something that fogged your mind at least once a week, but they probably didn't affect Jenna at all. She went on with the shows and interviews, not looking influenced at all.
But it was great. You loved watching Jenna fulfill her dreams, even though you never got a chance to be a part of them like it had been planned.
You hoped that she would eventually find her way back to you, because it would never be too late for that, although it might've felt like that some days.
Jenna was known over the whole world, but like you two had talked about in previous years, you knew the Hollywood life came with lots of stress and pressure. So you knew that was a struggle she was going through.
She would eventually grow tired of being famous, that's something you had thought multiple times, that she would eventually become tired of being known for knowing famous people. And if she ever did, you would be happy to tell her that she would always know you.
Your head would always perk up whenever Jenna's name was mentioned, you would always greet her family members if you saw them, you would think about her on her birthday, and pray that she would think of you on yours.
Jenna was still so unconditionally important to you, and you wanted nothing but the best for her.
She would always know you, if she wanted to.
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