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#These photos are not representative of what I usually make
zyk1ng · 6 months
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I was gonna make this post way way earlier but I forgot lol but Uhm
I have played through the splatoon 2 story fully and am replaying it (for a future post bc a lot of the dialogue is rlly funny) and honestly while I absolutely loved it it makes me even sadder that splat 2’s story mode was kinda tossed aside (for valid reasons ofc) because it’s so Cool.
Excluding the gameplay, I think they did marie so well, because she sells the desperation of someone who’s got nobody she knows by her side. While she of course keeps the sassy attitude of sneak dissing her best friends (agent 3) and also telekinetically telling you to fuck off if you talk to her too much it’s very clear she genuinely cares so much about agent 4 and is so grateful they’re doing what they do.
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these are only two screenshots of 8(?) of Marie randomly being really sentimental to 4 because this stranger chose to help her in her time of need rather than just ignore this GROWN WOMAN hanging out on a sewer drain
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It’s like heavily emphasized multiple times that Marie could not be more grateful for 4’s help in retrieving not just the zapfish but also her cousin.
But then revealing that 4 knew about Callie the WHOLE TIME (I have a lot to say about this part but it’s mostly hc so) which is so KIND OF THEM???? this random woman recruits them into a secret military agency and hides the fact she rlly misses her cousin but they help anyway bc they WANT TO. (They didn’t even know either of them were famous btw) Marie shows a lot of gratitude toward 4 ESPECIALLY after the big reveal.
(You could make arguments for 3 being similar bc an old kook made them do it but this isn’t about them..)
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And it’s not just being grateful for the one time, she genuinely enjoys 4’s company and wants to be better friends with them and chat after the zapfish and Callie are saved 😭😭😭
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It’s so cute too, because 100%ing the game and even just being a little nosy is something that Marie picks up on, and remembers way later in the game. (More abt this later)
god I love this socially inept squid woman and her adopted child soldier that likes finding pieces of paper
Speaking of said soldier! I think the way they characterized 4 via the actual gameplay rather than art/statements/whatever is so cool
4 doesn’t have many illustrations besides the chaos splatfest and that one group photo where they’re being funky in the corner (and the apartment) but I feel like the reason for that is the fact that a lot of Marie’s dialogue as well as how splatoon 2’s hero mode is structured/designed speaks a lot about how they wanted to represent 4.
From a realistic standpoint, of course splatoon 2’s story mode has to be more creative both prompt wise and secret wise. But it feels like the reason its that way is because both 4 and Marie are separate types of people from Craig and 3.
The bosses help a lot with this too, being more gimmicky and weird (subtracting stamp.) Octo shower and samurai being bosses where you have to either react well or change your positioning to effectively beat them. (Octo shower is my fave btw I loved fighting it the first time)
The level design also shines in this aspect because if I’m honest I remember none of the splat 1 levels significantly besides the few octoling ones. Splatoon 2’s levels are very detailed (and also insanely pretty) and have some rlly fun puzzles in a handful of them and even the more fast ones are a blast to play through
And then all the little extras (sardiniums and scrolls alike) are hidden so well and you usually have to go out of your way to find them and even the secrets that aren’t either of those things have substance
Small note, a lot of extras are also made so that it flows well with the levels design (like the first dualie request mission) which is also extremely fucking cool.
the way marie touches on those little discoveries is so smart too because it (as I said before) characterizes 4 as someone who loves to look for things even if it’s on a whim especially since the sunken scrolls in the game are so much harder to find than in splat1.
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And the fact that unlike splat 1, you can (technically) 800% the game by playing EVERY SINGLE LEVEL WITH EVER SINGLE WEAPON TYPE. to me it feels like it deepens the fact that 4 likes to be really thorough. marie goes “you have a problem.” When you break like two hidden egg crates in this one level and it’s so great.
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I love what they’ve done with 4, whether it was intentional or I’m over-analytical.
Nothing gets past them, looking in every nook and cranny whether or not there’s secrets to be found. They’re too nosy and thorough and they like to be around marie after completing missions, they don’t know who the squid sisters are, hate balloons, may or may not be ok, have impulsive secret finding, partake in many extracurriculars, can be needy at times, go with the flow and they apparently smell better than agent 3.
Agent four, of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.
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endlessthxxghts · 1 month
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Solace
Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k
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Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.
Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx
A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.
MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG
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“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 
“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 
“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 
“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”
Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 
You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 
“Din?” you called out softly. 
He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 
“Everything okay?”
“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.
“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.
You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 
You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 
“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 
Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 
“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 
Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 
The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.
“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 
“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 
Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 
“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 
“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 
Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 
His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 
Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 
The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 
Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.
He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 
By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.
“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 
You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 
He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 
Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 
He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 
You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 
“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 
With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 
His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 
He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 
“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 
You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 
Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 
You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 
You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 
His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”
You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 
“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 
“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”
You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 
You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.
“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 
His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 
Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 
You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 
You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 
“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 
Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 
“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 
“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 
“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 
The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 
With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 
“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 
“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 
Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”
He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 
“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”
He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 
“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 
Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 
Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 
As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 
“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 
“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 
“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 
He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 
“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”
“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 
Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 
The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 
He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 
The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 
“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 
“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.
“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”
“Sounds like a deal, baby.”
“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 
In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 
You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”
“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”
“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 
“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”
Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."
Oh. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
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End notes:
Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶
Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭
Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶
@pedrostories
696 notes · View notes
harmoonix · 4 months
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Love asteroids to look for in their chart: (list)
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The Main 5 love asteroids known by most people:
Juno (3) it's mostly about your relationship/marriage overall and the person you want or desire in a relationship
Groom (5129) if you are attracted to men, this asteroid will tell you a lot about your future spouse especially when you make a persona chart of it
Briede (19029) this one is if you are attracted to women, it will tell you about your future wife/her personality/traits everything
Eros (433) this asteroid is erotic, so it's indicating how erotic you are, where and how you are erotic and how you express your eroticism
Aphrodite (1388) most people associate this asteroid with beauty but Lady Aphrodite is the goddess of fertility too, so this asteroid can tell how connected/bounded you are with your spouse and how you are in love
Other love asteroids but less known by people:
Valentine (447) represents pure love, and how sacrificing you are in love, I imagine this as another side of Cupid (the angel) + the way you act when you first have a crush on someone
Cupido (763) this is the angel Cupid himself, it will repsent your true love towards your partner and your most sensitive point in love relationships
Destinn (6583) this is not really a love asteroid but in your Juno/Groom/Briede/Descendant persona chart it can show the destiny of that specific relationship
Again not a love asteroid but Born (13954) in harmonious aspects with Juno or Groom/Briede it can show that you were born to be with that specific person
Bacchus (2063) indicates obsesion with love, having a really high sex appeal, very hot/magnetic etc...
Lust (4386) as the name tells. It can indicate your lust/kinks/things you like to do during sex and a beast in bed
Hera (103) - the greek version of Juno but this asteroid will mostly tell about your marriage and how your marriage will be
Kama (1387) this asteroids shows how you value the sex, how sexual you are and taboo topics related to this
Sappho (80) is another asteroid of love if you are attracted to women this asteroid can indicate that.
Amor (1121) - Amor means love in Spanish, this asteroid can indicate your love language/how you give love, how you want to be treated in a relationship and your spouse's love language aswell
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Here is a photo with all the house meanings in astrology to have some easier time to find what a specific asteroid can mean in your birth chart
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Hope this helped you to cercetate more about your love life/future spouse/future relationship or current relationship and to know about your spouse.
In my opinion if you wanna know more about your spouse and your relationship with them check your Groom/Briede/Juno persona chart
And for vedic chart, check your d9 chart that usually activates when you are around at the end of 20's and start of 30's tho some people think the d9 charts is activated since birth 🫶😍
Here is the d9 chart site !!🙏🏼 Make sure to check your DK planet the planet with the lowest degree in your chart (The D9 one not the D1) here
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The "DK planet"one should've be showed like this!❤️😊 (I did a random chart for this example lol but I just realised they have DK sun just like me💀)
H a r m o o n i x
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oracle-of-dream · 1 month
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Photo Finisher
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Minors DNI
Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...
Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink
Wordcount: 2k
Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.
You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.
While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.
A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."
You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.
Fuck.
You're late.
"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.
Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."
You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."
Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.
He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.
"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.
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His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."
You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.
Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.
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You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"
He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."
You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"
He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."
You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.
"You're lucky, you know that?"
"I am. Because I get to work with you."
"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."
Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.
You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.
"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."
You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."
"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."
You nodded, "And?"
"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."
You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."
Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.
"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.
"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.
You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.
He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.
"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.
"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.
Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.
"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.
"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."
"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"
You nodded, "Just for you."
"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.
You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.
"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.
"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.
"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."
Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.
"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.
Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.
"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.
"You want more?"
You shook your head, begging.
"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.
"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.
"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.
"More, please."
"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.
It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.
Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.
"P-Please," You begged.
"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.
You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.
Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."
You groaned, "Let's sleep."
"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.
"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."
Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."
"Like hell–You want to bathe me."
"So you'd rather lay like this?"
"If it means I don't lose money."
"Money? What about my feelings?"
"Your feelings don't pay."
"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.
"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.
Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.
"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.
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After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"
You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."
"Then, will you be my plus one?"
"Like walk the red carpet?"
"Maybe."
You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."
"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.
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theemporium · 7 months
Note
🧸 charlos bringing you and the baby to the paddock for the first time since having little sainz-leclerc
i changed it a wee bit but hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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It had been a surprise planned between you and Fred Vasseur. 
You knew the boys hated that they couldn’t be with you. You knew they hated that they would both have to fly in and out, going around the world while you were left to take care of your child. You knew that as much as they appreciated facetimes and pictures and constant updates, it wasn’t enough. 
You also missed them too. Pascale had been a massive help since the baby boy was born. Reyes had even flown out to stay with you in the first few months after the baby was born. But that didn’t help fill the void of your two boys being away. 
It had been Fred who initially reached out. He sent his well wishes and asked how his future driver was getting on, all polite and sweet small talk. Then, he told you the truth. He told you that despite the amazing results both Charles and Carlos were pulling, he could see the sadness and longing in their eyes. He knew it was hard for them to be away from their family, from you and your son. 
So, you planned a paddock comeback. 
Fred helped you organise it all, from getting the passes sorted to security to even keeping the boys distracted as you flew out to the next European race that would be easy for you to travel to with a young child. And as Thursday’s media day rolled around, neither boy had any suspicion that little Julian Leclerc-Sainz would be making his first appearance in the paddock.
You almost felt bad when you were in the car, on the way to the paddock from the hotel. Both boys had been blowing up your phone with messages varying from ‘we miss you’ to ‘tell Julian Papa and Dada miss him’. You almost felt bad for lying to them and saying you couldn’t call like you usually did on Thursday mornings before they headed in for work. 
But the knowledge that they would be over the moon to see you both washed away the guilt. 
You had decked Julian out in complete Ferrari merch, personalised and specially made to represent both his fathers. Between the little onesie decorated in ‘16’ and ‘55’, along with his own name and number plastered on the little hat, you were swooning at the sight of how adorable your son looked, and you knew your boys would say the same. 
A Ferrari intern had been at the paddock entrance, ready to guide and help sneak you into the garages where the boys had been sitting between interviews. Your body itched to reach out for them, but your heart also clenched at the sight. 
Charles was leaning his head on Carlos’ shoulder as the older man ran his fingers through his hair, soft and comforting. You understood what Fred meant now, at how dejected they looked. But the icing on the cake was the phone in Charles’ hand, a photo you had sent the boys two days ago of you and Julian spread across the screen. 
“Got room for two more?” 
Both boys’ heads snapped up comically fast, but Charles was the first one to jump out of his seat and rush towards you. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and Julian, only for Carlos to follow his actions seconds later.
“How are you here?” Carlos asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were here. 
“Fred organised it,” you smiled, placing a hand on Carlos’ cheek as he melted into your touch. Your smile widened when he placed a chaste kiss on your inner wrist.
“And look at you!” Charles cooed happily as he took in the sight of Julian’s attire. “My prince is representing his fathers, hm? Oh, you are just so cute.”
You watched as Charles took little Julian in his arms, holding him close to his chest as he muttered a bunch of French that was spoken too quickly for you to understand. 
“Ay, okay, give him to Papa,” Carlos intervened as he took the small boy in his arms, grinning widely at the way Julian garbled happily as he stared between his fathers. “Oh, mi lobo, I’ve missed you too.” 
“This is the best surprise,” Charles murmured as he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms tightening around you like he wanted to be sure you wouldn’t run off.
“Anything for my boys,” you smiled, placing a chaste kiss on Charles’ cheek before a hint of mischief glinted in your eyes. “Plus, you two can take over diaper duty now. No excuses.”
Both boys groaned, but neither one of them complained, simply happy to have their family back together again.
.
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octuscle · 1 month
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Happy St. Patrick's Day!
There are holidays that I'm convinced the world doesn't need… St. Patrick's Day, for example. I think it's perfectly fine to be proud of your heritage. I mean, I have an Italian grandmother. I'm totally proud of that. She makes the best pasta in the world. Hehehe, if you look at my belly, you can tell.
You see St. Patrick's Day parades on every channel. It's pure brainwashing! I look at my stomach again… Maybe I'll use the day to do something for my fitness. The streets are full of happy people. Intrusively cheerful people with funny green hats.
The guy at reception is wearing a green T-shirt. And has a shamrock painted on his cheek. I could puke. "Hi mate, nice to see you. Not much going on today. But we'd like to take a few pictures for social media later. Something along the lines of today-we've-trained-in-green. Would you wear this tank top for training?" He holds something green out to me. Fortunately without a shamrock or a funny gnome. It looks like a rugby jersey. Maybe a little big. I smile painfully. "Mate, give yourself a jolt! I'll give you a protein flat rate and free training for three months!" You don't care about the protein flat rate. But free training for three months… You'll save a good 150 dollars. Then it won't be so bad that you come here so rarely.
"Come on, give it to me!" you say and give him a fist bump. Fist bump? What's wrong with you today? All right… Put on your jersey, half an hour on the cross trainer, then maybe a bit of chest training. And then that should be it. And if you absolutely have to post pictures of it. You go to the changing area. Yawning emptiness. Exactly to your taste, actually! You undress, put on the sweatpants and then the jersey. You take a quick look in the mirror. An overweight quarter-Italian in a green rugby jersey. You doubt that this will bring the gym even one new follower, let alone a customer.
You usually start on the cross trainer with low resistance. Today you can try something new. It's empty, no one is watching, you can't embarrass yourself. So you go to the rowing machine. You have no experience with that. So you hit the maximum resistance. And off you go! After half an hour, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. Your jersey sticks to your chest, soaked with sweat. The gym employee stands in front of you with a grin. "Bro, those were some really awesome shots! What are you up to now?" You grumble that rowing is a good base for lat training. And that you're currently doing antagonist training. So combine it with chest training. "Nice, that should make for great pictures." You don't give a damn that the camera is following you the whole time. Focus on the training. And finally, no consideration for others. Moan and grunt when you feel like it. And today you're lifting the heavy weights. That requires a loud scream or two.
Shit, you've been here for almost three hours. You're done. You shout to your gym's social media representative that it's time for the final show. You take off your slightly too tight jersey with some difficulty. And wring out the sweat. You smile at the camera and say "Happy St. Patrick's Day, bros! Stay focused and train hard!" Your buddy gives you a fist bump and says it was a lot of fun with you again. You hand him your cell phone and ask him for a photo. For your own account.
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Caption: "Is as Éirinn a thagann fir réadúla i gcónaí! Buailigí, a chairde, agus go raibh Lá Fhéile Pádraig iontach agaibh!"
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jarofstyles · 7 months
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Reaper 13
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This is SUPER LONG and dirty but enjoyyy it for as long as it lasts hehe.
Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing
Warnings- possessive behavior, aggression, threats, mention of murder, stalking, illegal acts  we do not Condone, knife play, impact play (slapping x spanking), daddy kink if you squint, breeding kink mention, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification if you squint, choking, bondage w belt, hair pulling.... you get the gist everything is filthy as per usual 
WC- 11.3k
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Tourist attractions really weren’t Harry’s thing, especially in his own city. He thought it was all a bit underwhelming, he’d rather look at a photo and be over it. He never thought he’d ever step foot in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Kensington was no place for someone like him. Yet there he was, watching his own work of art, Bunny, read the plaques by each painting.
The way her eyes lit up this morning when he told her they’d do whatever she wanted, he didn’t have it in himself to say no. So he let her drag him along to all the sites, even going as far as taking photos with her. If she were anyone else, he would tell her to stuff it- but that smile made it worth every moment of internal suffering.
“I’m getting hungry,” Bunny whispered to him, wanting to be respectful of the environment. Her arm had snaked its way under his, her hand curling around his bicep for comfort.
Harry chuckled when he felt her squeeze at the muscle, mindlessly going to place a kiss on the top of her head. The mindless affection had become more and more common. “You okay to head back towards the hotel? The options around here are a bit shit.” Harry continued in a hushed tone, guiding the two of them towards the stairs to begin exiting. “Plus, there are a bunch of pubs back that way… can get you some of that authentic food to try.”
“Authentic food?” She raised a brow. “You mean beans on toast? Egg in the hole?” There was teasing in her tone, a giant grin on her face as he looked down at her. She was taunting him, but it was good to see her really fucking smile after these last few weeks.
A scoff sounded from his throat, eyes rolling as they continued. “Lucky you’re cute. Or I’d toss your ass into the Thames, and that is particularly unpleasant.” He retorted, lightly pinching her side to make her squeak.
“Oi! Precious cargo here.” Her hip bumped into his as they walked, looking at her fake wedding ring. Although it wasn’t real, seeing it and what it represented made her stomach flutter. Would that be a possibility? Would he ever actually propose? What ring would he actually choose? He’d probably do it somewhere very private and secret, just the two of them. Shaking herself out of that thought, she continued. “What I was saying was, yes. I’m happy to head back. Your arm must be tired from holding all of my stuff.”
It wasn’t too bad. A few bags with the very tacky and overpriced London swag, things he knew she would probably stick on a shelf and not use- but part of him felt some sort of happiness that she liked it enough to buy souvenirs. “S’fine, darling. Snow globes and tee shirts and magnets are surprisingly lightweight.”
“Right, so you don’t mind if I drag us into the gift shop?” Bunny teased and squeezed his arm, tripping over her feet a bit as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.
Harry had never thought he’d experience this type of relationship. It almost felt juvenile with how they clung to one another and got shy at each other's teasing ocassionally. It felt so out of character for him, but then again, it came naturally with her. He thought, if his life had been different, that maybe that’s how he was meant to be.
“Thought you said you were hungry?”
———
Pubs were a quintessential part of the British experience. You could go just about anywhere in the UK and there would always be a pub to welcome you in. Sure, the decor was a bit outdated, but Harry always thought it made them more charming. No two pubs were exactly alike. Some had different stools.
“What do you fancy? Fish and chips? Bangers and Mash? Gonna take you for a roast at the weekend.” Harry’s speech had already adjusted, his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. It made Bunny smile fondly, she’d never seen him in a mood like this and she was cherishing every second.
“Fancy, huh? You’re sounding incredibly British today, Mr.Davidson.” She winked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looping them as they settled at the end of the bar. The mood was just so good today, and she was relishing it.
“Fancy, yes. Like I fancy you.” His voice was quiet, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips as she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hands came to hold her hips, cuffing them with his cool skin and making her shiver. Her outfit wasn’t particularly thick- which was why she had stopped to buy the coat she’d hung up when they walked in. If someone stole it, oh well. It was pretty cheap.
“You do?” She peered at him through her lashes, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Gonna make me blush. Look at you, flirty man.” Harry had been exceptionally affectionate today and it had almost taken her off guard. Like he could finally let go a bit and give her the proper boyfriend treatment, loved treatment, whatever it was called. It made her all fuzzy and hot in her stomach.
“Good. Like making y’shy.” He tugged at the ends of her hair. “Soon as a table opens up we can sit down and properly eat.” But he didn’t mind standing here. He soaked in every second of her leaning into him, playing like a proper couple on a ‘honeymoon’. He liked the feeling of the ring on that finger.
Bunny nodded along, letting her eyes wander around the dimly lit space. The place wasn’t too packed, though as the clouds drew in it seemed everyone was looking for shelter.
“Y/N? No fucking way.” A familiar voice interrupted Bunny from her train of thought. Her head snapped in the direction the voice was coming from, swallowing thickly. Fuck. Not here- not now.
“Ian?” She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he moved away for college. She had been so devastated back then. Sterling’s departure had taken a toll on her and well, Ian wasn’t man enough to tell her he too would be leaving her.
“Are you stalking me?” He joked, taking a step towards her. It seemed as though he hadn’t noticed just who she was there with.
Harry was quick to place himself between them.
Who the fuck is this? And why the fuck did he know Bunny? His jaw clenched so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, feeling fingers gently pressing against his arm as he looked down at the shorter man.
Was this some sort of sick joke?
“Who the fuck are you?” His words were cold, his molten relaxed nature from before cooling quickly before shattering like glass on the pavement. His eyes were sharp and hard as he looked down, feeling her peek over his arm and try and move closer but he extended it to keep her behind him.
Whoever the fuck this Ian was, he was in London. A place where she knew no one. The world couldn’t possibly be that small, and he was on edge all over again. “Are you following her?”
Oh god. Bunny stepped forward, clutching Harry’s arm in her grasp to try and chill him out. It looked bad, it definitely looked bad and she could understand his irritation, but-
“H, it’s okay-“
“No. It isn’t.” His harsh tone stung his own ears as he approached further, eyes zeroed in on him. “I’ll ask again, How the fuck did you find her here?”
“Find her?” Ian looked like he had seen a ghost. He had remembered Reaper, very very well. How could he forget all the times he’d come over and he’d be outside working on his bike? The death stare he gave was enough to have him rushing inside without turning back. He was aware of the reputation Reaper held, to say Ian was scared was an understatement.
“Dude, I swear I wasn’t trying to make any moves, just surprised she’s here— I live here man.” Ian was in a rush to finish his sentences, attempting to clear the lump forming his throat.
“Baby, you know that, remember? I was dating him before Sterling left.” Bunny peeped up from behind him, her heart beating out of her chest. The last thing she needed was for Harry to cause a scene when they were trying to lay low. While the coincidence was shocking, she knew full well Ian was too stupid to pull off what her stalker was pulling.
“Where?” Harry barked, preparing to grill the man for all he was worth. If he couldn’t tell him a way a Londoner would understand, he was worried he would do his head in right here on the bar. His stomach had already been turning at the mere mention of him dating her before, but the thought of being face to face with someone who could possibly be part of this ongoing torture of his girl? He was seething.
“Canary Wharf, a few stops on the DLR. I’m not giving you my address, sicko.”
“Sicko?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not the one following girls around. How’d you know she’d be here?” He took a step closer, the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he tried to scan the man’s face for any hint of lying.
He was scared shitless, as he should be, but Harry was thrown right back into the paranoia that he usually felt back home. The hesitation and distrust of anyone who got around her. How perfect would it be for her obsessive ex to be the one following her around?
“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, bro. I’m just as surprised as she is- t-tell him, Y/N. Please!” He was backing up slightly as Harry took another step forward, making her grab his arm and try and tug him back.
“H- Hey.” She gently dragged her fingers down his arm. “Please. It’s okay. He’s been here for a while, he left a while back. I didn’t know where he was moving to.” Trying to diffuse the situation was unnerving. She’d seen Harry get like this a few times, but she didn’t want to make a scene here. “Look at me, please. He’s not the person you think.” Meaning her stalker. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, the nervousness from how he worked his jaw, how his other hand had slipped behind him to have a hand on his gun if he needed it. They couldn’t afford to have that happen in such a public place, but it was well known that Harry, when he was Reaper mindset, didn’t care. He would take out a threat and deal with the consequences. As much as it warmed her that he was that dedicated to her safety, it wasn’t any good if he went down for taking out the wrong guy.
“Babe.” Her stern tone cut through the tension, her hand moving to squeeze over his hand tightly. This couldn’t happen. Bunny’s heart was beating out of her chest, looking between the two of them as she tried to figure out what her next move was. “Ian, you remember Harry yeah?” She began, her fingers rubbing gentle circles over the wedding band on her boyfriend’s hand. It would be hard to explain it to Ian, so she figured it was best to keep them hidden. “He brought me here to London to show me around, we’ve been together for a while now so it felt like a good time to see where he came from.”
Harry was still sizing Ian up, chest heaving slightly. Focusing on the sound of Bunny’s voice, he could still hear the faint sound of blood pumping in his ears. This guy was harmless, she had ruled him out but Harry’s brain was still on high alert.
“Anyways, we were just leaving,” Harry interjected, no longer wishing to be in this idiot's presence. He needed to be back in a safe space with his Bunny.
“We don’t have to-“
“I just remembered our reservation. Let’s go.”  The tone of his voice had taken her off guard, unfamiliar with the sweet one he usually held specifically for her, but she would let it go despite how it stung under her skin. He was wound up and nervous, and he had just had a scare in the one place he had seemed to key his guard down. She had to remember that. He had just been knocked over, metaphorically speaking.
“You don’t have to run off,” Ian said with a laugh, feeling a bit bolder and wanting to reclaim that stupid masculinity he had felt was stripped of him from the interaction. “I’m not going to try and steal her-“
Before he could finish, his shirt was fisted in Harry’s hand, his body whipped around and pressed to the bar as the cocky look on his face faded to fear. His eyes were dark and cold, though the anger was simmering under the surface of his skin.
“You can’t have her. She isn’t an item to be stolen. I’ve heard about your puny cock and the lack of care you’ve given my girl. Bold of you to assume she’s mentioned more than her dissatisfaction over you.” He did indeed remember this dickhead. It made him want to drag him to the back alley and use the silencer on his gun to take him out. But he was in public. So threats would have to do. “If you breathe a word of her being here, if you try to contact her, if you even look at her again tonight, I will end you. Make your life a living hell, and end it with your body sunk in the Thames.” His words were quiet, but so matter of fact that Bunny’s eyes widened. The pub noises would filter out anyone else hearing, but she could.
“I know the people from the deepest depths of the underground here. One fucking call and I’ll have your entire flat ruined, your bank account drained, and your body strung up in an abandoned building before they dispose of you. So heed this warning very, very carefully.” He got closer. “You’ll stay here, order a pint, and forget that this night and my woman has ever existed. If I hear a word of this breathed out -and I will- I’ll make good on my phone call.” Eyes traced him in disgust. “And you won’t make very good fish food, either.”
Finally, he dropped the guy and pulled Bunny with him, trying to be mindful of how hard he pulled so her shorter legs wouldn’t make her fall. But he was livid. Angry, his face blank and nostrils flared as he grits his teeth.
She decided to stay silent, following him and wrapping her arm around his, their connected fingers an anchor for the both of them. “I’m sorry.” Her voice peeped, looking up at him. “I-didn’t know he would be there. I swear I haven’t known anything since he moved.”
He froze. Why was she apologizing?
Harry could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, though it seemed he felt no pain. His focus was purely on getting her back to the hotel as safely and quietly as possible. Stupid fucking idiot had to choose this pub of all pubs in London to walk into and ruin the perfect end to the day for his perfect girl.
“S’ fine, Bun.” Harry tried his best to reassure her, though his breathing was still heavy and his mind was still racing. He was on high alert as he guided the two of them through the busy crowd of Leicester Square, no one paid much attention to them there. Only one more turn and they’d be safe in the street right by their hotel.
Bunny wasn’t sure what she was expecting as they entered the hotel and made their way up. She chose to stay quiet, her arms wiggling their way around his waist as her head rested against his chest in an attempt to soothe them both. His heart was pounding, though his muscles were noticeably less tense than they had been at the pub.
She didn’t think she’d be able to eat much now, her main concern was tending to Harry. It’d been a good while since he’d snapped back into his protective state, they’d worked so hard to get him to actually relax on this trip. She had been worried it was all for nothing.
“Talk to me.” She murmured as they entered the safety of their room, the sound of Harry double-checking the locks behind them had her eyes squeezing shut. She wished he didn’t have to go through this. If only they didn’t go to that pub.
His throat bobbed as he scanned the room again, only broken out of the trance when her hands gently grabbed his face, cradling his jaw. All she did was gentle. She treated him with a softness no one else ever had, one that he had never even thought of himself being able to have.
There was a moment he stood without a word, looking down at him as he tried to gather himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel neglected like he had the time before, but it was really fucking hard to do that. His body was taught, tense and he held back tremors of both rage and fear. It was a false alarm, sure, but he had felt all the feelings he imagined surfacing from finding the son of a bitch stalker. His uneven breathing filled the room as she continued to try and soothe him, her soft and concerned gaze killing him. How the fuck was she being so good with him even after what he had done? How he had shut down?
“I was terrified.” He admitted into the silence of the room. “That it was him. I’m still not convinced he isn’t involved.  I was letting myself get too relaxed. You’re in danger.” He stressed, head tilting back as he ran his hands over his face. There was obvious regret and self anger in his tone, breaking her heart just a bit more. “I was selfish for not letting my head be on a swivel.  I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt. Ever.” Hs hands peeled off his cheeks so he could look at her, the seriousness of his words bleeding through.
“I promised to protect you. Not only to your father, to your brother- but to myself. This whole thing, you and I? It isn't just sex to me, Bunny. You’re- you’re mine. In every fucking sense of the word. The one person that means anything to me and if I fuck up because I want to- I want to be selfish and just let go? I’d die. If you hurt, I hurt. I can’t ever let it happen.” He felt the intensity in his stomach rise, the feelings he had been trying to keep in check boiling over in the pot. Frothing over the edges, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her, no matter how many times he had stirred and tried to keep the overflow at bay.
“You mean the most to me. I’ve never cared this much about a person. I felt so much rage… not only at him but at myself. I’m so angry.” He growled. “He looked at you. He touched your arm. How much fucking clearer does it have to be?” Slowly backing her up, Bunny trusting him as her back bumped against the door and her head tipped up to look up at him. Her angry knight. So passionate about protecting her. “Do I have to get you a sign to tell people you’re mine? That I’m yours and I will rip their hearts from their chest, I will slice off any finger that touches you?” His eyes blazed, Harry’s discomfort obvious. He meant every word. AS gruesome as he could be, she hadn’t seen the whole of it yet. This girl got to see the good parts of him and he was convinced that she would be the only one they were reserved for.
Bunny’s eyes searched his, trying to find some kind of sign. Sure, his emotions were on high, but he meant each word he was saying. She could feel it— never once did his words falter, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingertips delicately began to push her jacket off of her shoulders.
“Say something.” Harry breathed, his eyes too scanning hers in an attempt to anchor himself in the moment. When he was with her nothing else mattered, he didn’t have to be anyone he wasn’t. With her he was free. “I mean every word—“
“I know.” Bunny’s voice had been so quiet she wasn’t even sure if he heard it. The words she had wanted to say were hiding just under her breath, if only she felt brave she would tell him. Profess that she loved him and that she trusted him more than anyone else in this world. “I keep thinking,” She started, her sentence interrupted by the thump of her jacket falling on the floor. “You’re the only one I’d want to be here with. The only one I want…” Her words trailed off with a soft moan. God, she was sick.
Cold fingertips dragged up along her arm, Harry’s other hand finding the warmth of her lower back just under her top. He really couldn’t help himself, she was the only thing that could get him to relax.
His stomach heated with a different sort of passion. A flick of a candle, a switch of a blade, a single moan. Her soft body melted into his own as her eyes bore into his own, that calming energy sinking into his skin and melding into arousal that he couldn’t help. She was aroused by this?
Yes. She was. The woman was affected by his words, by his protective nature. Even as deprived and awful, inhumane as his version of justice could be perceived as, she was excited by it. Flattered. His face got closer to hers, bracing with his arm against the door.
“I mean it.” His words were a shaky exhale. “I mean every fucking word.” His hands slipped further under the fabric, her hot skin melting his icy interiors yet again. “Anyone touches you… anyone even thinks about stroking this perfect skin… tasting your mouth…. Harming a single hair on your head. I’d end them.” He pressed closer, fingers finding the nape of her neck. “I’d kill for you, baby. D’you know that?” Harry doubted that she would ever actually know the full extent of what he would do for her. How close she had him to being on his knees at her wish.
She nodded, their noses brushing together. Harry smiled, not a normal one but what she could consider almost feral. Hot. Her thighs trembled as she couldn’t recall anyone else who had been able to gain such a reaction from her body. Their interactions were always something she felt fully, but his intensity was ringing in her ears, throbbing through her body. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he would.
“I almost did tonight. I meant every word. And I’ll do the same back in Vegas. I’ll find who is tracking you… I’ll send them to meet Hades myself. And then… then I’m going to take you on a proper vacation. I’m going to take you to a beach and fuck you on the sand, I’m going to fuck you on my bike, I’m going to do everything you deserve.  I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Bunny. I’m mean, I fight, I do illegal shit, I’ve got blood on my hands and targets on my back, but I’m keeping you anyway.” Their breathing mingled as he tried to control himself but it was slipping.
His lips pressed against hers hard, feeling her fists on his shirt to pull him closer. It was no use.
“I will burn the entire fucking city down to make sure you’re safe. I’ve never been afraid of anything. Death, fire, pain. But I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”
Time stood still as the two of them stood barely a step into their hotel room. Harry cradled her with his arm, unable to get enough of his skin on her own. Her shivers only drove him all the more insane, he was hypnotized by the feeling she brought him, the comfort of her existence was something he felt himself continuously getting drunk on. He didn’t want to stop himself, he couldn’t. Not when every moment felt like it could be their very last.
“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’ll always find you.” Bunny knew there was very little could do, but on the off chance that this fucker managed to find her she would leave as many clues for Harry as she possibly could. No way would she let some monster get in the way of this beautiful blossoming relationship. “Even if it hurts me.” She whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. She was hungry to taste them again, it was the perfect remedy for the comedown of shock. What if she wanted it to hurt?
“Please let go just for tonight… just take me how you want to.” She would do just about anything to get him back to a relaxed state again. This feral look on his face awakened something in her, he’d previously mentioned he’d been holding back. There was something about the dark breathy chuckle he let out that had her mind reeling.  “I’m serious.” Bunny felt her heart rate picking up as he toyed with the delicate skin of her neck. “Please.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He whispered, trying to keep that curated delicacy he had reserved for her at hand- but failing. Failing miserably.
“I do.” She whispered back, arching into him. “You’re upset. You want to prove that I’m yours?” There was danger in taunting him. The girl knew that. But she wanted him to break down, to give in to those urges again. The last time had been so, so good. She could still feel the slight ache but she wanted more. Greedy. She was so incredibly greedy for every lick and drop of affection, his real self she could get. Her hand reached for his, pulling it towards the front of her throat to collar it.
“Fuck me, Harry. Own me. Use my body, mark me, make everyone know.” She bleated, eyes wide for him. “Please?” Her lips pressed against his. “Please, please, please. Just for tonight- make me ache. You know my limits. Push them.”
“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” Harry breathed through his nose, trying so hard not to give in to her even though she was offering herself up on a silver platter. The feeling of his hand around her throat was something that’d felt natural, her kiss tempting him even more. She knew just how to get him to succumb to her desires but there was still that bit of fear.
Sure, the other night they dabbled into the territory. A few good slaps, her slipping into subspace. This, however, was a whole other beast. Harry could be truly sadistic, relentless in the way he fucked women. While his girl had proven to be the perfect slut for him, he still worried that he would lose himself. There would always be more caution in this because he cared about her, he adored her, her life meant something to him. It just made him worry a little about self control when she taunted him. Especially when he was in a mood like this. Where he knew he wouldn’t stop himself from absolutely ruining her.
“I want you to.” Bunny was confident that she could take it. The slaps yesterday were manageable, hot, even and with the right aftercare, she was positive there was nothing he could do that would truly hurt her. Harry in his feral state was terrifying, yes, but a thrill that made her sopping wet. She was the object of his desire, surely the aggression he would lay upon her would translate differently than it had with anyone before her.
“Want you to show me the real you… want to know what it’s like, I can handle it.” She had opened up for him so nicely, let him see her slip into the softest of spaces. She had hoped to see him enter his own headspace, one where they could interact together.
“God….” Harry rolled his head back on his shoulders, his erratic breathing amplified by her fingers pressing over his own, making him squeeze. It got his attention right away. Damn it all to hell. The woman had a road map to the paths to drive him wild the quickest, the buttons installed in the tips of her little fingers.
She moaned. The vibration of it stung his palm. She was serious. Her head rolling back on the door as she hated herself to him with her eyes fluttering at the feeling. She was showing him, taunting him, and Harry could feel the tether to his rational being fraying.
“You… can handle it?” His lips curled up in one of the most cruel little smirks she had ever seen. “The soft, sweet little slut can handle it? Just a bit of slapping has you slipping. You really think you can manage it? When I make a mess out of you?”
Her nod made him narrow his eyes, watching as she blinked up at him. Did she?
He tested the waters, gathering saliva under his tongue and spitting it right on her closed lips, getting a surprised gasp from her. A flinch. “Lick your lips. Clean it up.” He stood straighter, seeming to loom over her. She stood with wide eyes, looking like she was going to speak before he took his fingers from behind her and lightly smacked her cheek.
“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak.  Did I?” Her head shook, a tiny whimper making him laugh before continuing on. “No, I didn’t. I know you get a little brainless when I touch you, all you can think about is cock… but I gave you instruction. Try again.” He hissed, feeling his cock throb at how quickly she let her tongue rub over her lips. Pink brushing over the glistening pair of lips wet with his spit, she slowly dragged the muscle over the pout.
“There we are. Pretty little pet does have some sense floating up there.” He cooed, thumbing the rest she couldn’t get over the rest of her chin and rubbing it into the skin.
There was a pause, his eyes softening for a moment as he checked in. “My messy baby. Are you sure you can handle it? Y’know I adore you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her wet mouth, a direct contrast to his previous actions. “You’re my girl but… I’m gonna be mean to you. You know how to get me to stop, yeah?” It had to be abundantly clear. There wouldn't be unnecessary risks of losing her trust.
Bunny nodded her head, not wanting to risk speaking and making him unnecessarily angry. Just one word, that’s all it would take for him to stop. She decided to take his word for it and behave while she was still grounded in reality, god knows what she’s getting herself into when she was drunk on him and his cock. He’d given her a taste of it last time, blown her expectations out of the water, but she was his greedy girl after all.
His actions had shaken her up just enough for wetness to start pooling in her panties. She loved seeing him in this state, it was so animalistic. He was only focused on one thing and that was pleasure— in this case, his own. She would happily give herself to him a million times over if this meant he could get it out of his system. If it was anything like before she knew she’d enjoy it.
He’d never been mean to her before, it would definitely be a new feeling. However, it was all in the name of sex. Sex makes you say all sorts of things, it’s part of its nature. It’s a connection people can’t properly put into words. Bunny was eager to explore their connection even further and prove their trust.
“That’s a good girl.” He sighed, stroking over her hair before wrapping it around his fist. “Come.”
There was no other option- but Y/N didn’t mind. She followed, relishing in the slight prickling pain on her scalp as he stayed true to his word and led her like a naughty pup over to the bed.
“You’re such a nice girl. It really is such a shock to me that you love acting like a depraved whore.” He said with a chuckle. “Y’know, I thought… the first time we saw each other again, you were so sweet looking. Grown up, not a little girl, but sweet. That big smile and sparkling pretty eyes, bouncing on your feet. And then, later in the night… you crawled up on my lap. Tried to tempt me, with your brother just feet away. That’s when I knew there had to be something with you. Something that made you dirty, just like me.”
He undid his belt with his free hand, the sound of the leather snapping out of the belt loops making her whimper. His start was intense, intently on her eyes as he released her hair. “Wrists in front of you.”
There was no second request. She did it quickly, letting herself feel the warm leather wrap snugly around her wrists and through them. There was a shot of jealousy when she realized she was not the only one he had done this to. No- Harry must have done this dozens of times because of how well he did it, but she kept her mouth shut as he secured her.
“There.” One last tug and she was secure enough to not escape, but easy enough for Harry to be able to undo it quickly. “What a fucking vision you are, darling. Look at you.” His voice aired out, walking in a circle around her. Reaching into his pocket, he steadied himself behind her. His nose brushed her neck, inhaling the scent of her. This was enough to get him drunk. The perfume, her soap, the scent that could only be her…. Biting down on the flesh in a nip to make her yelp.
“Too good. Too fucking good for me, and yet…. You let me do such filthy things to you. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how eager you were to get my cock in your mouth. So quickly after we agreed I’d be your boyfriend… taunting me. Almost crying because I didn’t give you my cum. And now? Now you want it dripping down your thighs.”
There was a metallic slice in the air, Bunny stiffening as she felt cool metal brush her chest. The flag of his pocket knife. “If they knew you shivered in anticipation while having a knife held to you. You know how nasty you’ve got to be, darling?” He laughed, the heat of it making her shiver again. “Oh, that’s why you’re so perfect for me, little Bunny.”
She gasped as he sliced through the upper part of her top in a swift motion, using his hands to rip the rest off. “But what good is having a beautiful slut at my beck and call if she’s clothed?”
The anticipation was killing her, all her senses heightened. She’d been waiting for him to bring the knife out again, but the unexpected action had her feeling warm. There was something that washed over her, a feeling reminiscent of embarrassment but was much more pleasurable. Sitting there exposed to him, clothes cut, unable to move her hands. The danger of it all was too appealing, Harry played the part well. Though, he wasn’t playing at all.
Harry noticed her breathing pick up, the way her chest was heaving made his cock stir in his jeans. He let the blade of the knife trace down her denim-clad leg, teasing her with the sensation before the tip met the zipper. “I bet you’re soaked under these, my perfect whore. Always ready for me to stuff you.” He was debating cutting the jeans off of her but decided against it, using one hand to unbutton them and pull them down.
Harry wasted no time in slicing her panties off, a dark laugh leaving his lips at her gasp. “Always liked that move, hm? Filthy slut. Open.” He commanded, waiting for her jaw to drop down before stuffing her mouth full of her panties. “Don’t trust you to stay quiet so I think this will do.”
It was degrading, absolutely, but there was just something about the way Harry could make it feel good. The humiliation swam in her stomach pooling down to her cunt, the damp spot on the fabric pressed against her tongue.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He ran the cold metal over her thighs, over her mound ever so carefully to get it wet before moving in front of her. His eyes were dark, tongue licking up the flat of the blade and groaning at the taste. “Yeah. You can see why I love being parked right between these gorgeous thighs. If you weren’t such a baby, you’d stop complaining about being over-sensitive and let me lick you up. But…” he tossed the knife to the side. “I think….” His hand pushed her to fall on the bed. “It’s time for a proper taste. I’ve got you gagged, bound… I can lick you up, and prepare you for my cock. How does that sound?” He turned his back towards her to the drawer beside the bed, where he had left the cleaned and unpackaged toys. “Oh, that’s right. Y’can’t reply.” The snarky reply somehow left her feeling a bit more hot. How did he manage that?
“Gonna make you so sensitive, and you’re just going to lay there and take it. You loved being my fucktoy last time, so let’s see.” Standing between her legs, he tugged her by the ankles toward the end of the bed while he ignored her muffled squeak.  “Three kicks with your foot if it’s too much. Otherwise? Don’t complain.” Establishing a safe system was imperative regardless of verbal ability.
Bunny felt her cunt throbbing but resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. It wouldn’t do her any good, not when Harry was standing there looking down at her cunt as if it was his first and last meal all at once. He took his sweet time, picking up one of her legs so he could kiss and bite his way down to her core.  He loved the way she reacted to him, her sensitivity made him crave her that much more. Her scent had him forgetting what he had initially planned to do, eyes zeroing in on her puffy slick folds. Harry’s hands gripped around her thighs, lowering himself till he was kneeling on the floor.
With the panties gagging her, Bunny assumed her moans would be silenced. Instead, she was met with muffled sounds that only elevated the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping her up. It was an erotic blend, the sound of slurping and sucking making her legs twitch. He was so good at this. Creating environments built to break her down little by little.
He was relentless.
Of course that was a given, but it seemed he was even more desperate tonight to get her, to get every bit of her slick on his tongue and she couldn’t keep quiet, even with her gag. He wasn’t holding back, licking up from her entrance to her clit before spitting back down and using his hand to gently smack over her.
When she squealed, Harry’s wet mouth grinned, filthy promise written in his eyes as he smacked harder over her clit and watched her hips buck up. “Slut for pain. Like when I do that to you?” He shook his head, picking up the toy and dragging up her wet folds. “I hope that extends to some overstimulation. I want you to cry for me today. Good tears. Tears only I can ever get out of you.”
Turning it on he felt her jump, the lower setting making her squirm as he situated it right on her clit whilst his finger slipped into her cunt. “Drooling little hole you’ve got… you’re lucky you love this so much. It’s going to make it far easier for us when I’m fucking you.”
The woman’s breathing was staggered, her stomach clenching at the tension he was creating. It hurt so good, the burn paired with a deep lull of pleasure creeping throughout her body. The gentle vibration of the toy was tormenting her, if only he had turned it up even just one degree she swore it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.
Whimpers managed to push through the fabric lodged in her mouth, her thighs twitching in his grasp. She was trying her best not to squirm, breathing heavily through her nose as she mentally coached herself through the pleasure. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers, desperate to be filled by his cock once again. He said he was being mean, there would be no point begging. She did tell him he could do what he wanted. Bunny would be good.
“What a perfect fucking whore, I can feel you squeezing me. Want more?” Harry mocked, rubbing the pads of his fingers over her precious g-spot. He was slow with the movements, coaxing more of those delicious little moans out of her. “Should’ve known you could take it— don’t you dare cum before I say so.” He didn’t want to stop touching her, he intended to flood her senses for a good while before giving her her first of many orgasms.
Harry clicked the toy up a speed, chuckling darkly at the way her body jolted. “So sensitive, so greedy…” He just about growled into her thigh, teeth sinking into the skin enough to satisfy him. The man could tell she was gone, but he didn’t want to stop it. Not when she was taking it so well, not when she so clearly wanted more.
She yelped against the fabric, body jerking as his teeth marked her. He hadn’t been joking when he had said he was going to go for it. While he’s bitten her before, this one was a claiming one. Dark and hard and a promise of more, making her drip for him.
“So-ee.” The poor attempt of ‘Sorry’ was muffled through a gag, apologizing from her jolt. His eyes glazed up at her, shaking his head but continuing his slight torture.
Harry loved to see her wet like this. To see the wet juices of her cunt coat his fingers and drip down her folds, all the way down to her ass. Soon enough it would mark the bedcover, and he couldn’t wait for that. His cock was aching, pulsing in his briefs but he was satisfying a different urge.
“Sorry? Mm… Slutty thing is sorry she can’t take a bite. What are we going to do with you?” Adding another finger, her legs twitched as her toes curled, the sloshing, wet sound of them fucking into her the music he needed to hear to his ears. “Don’t fucking cum.” He warned, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit. “Don’t do it. I know you’ve got a filthy set of holes back here, but have some self control.” He could feel it, the beginnings of clenches around his fingers and her thighs trembling as she began to protest behind the gag.
She almost did it. The pain had buzzed on to pleasure as his joined fingers curled right against a spot that had her stomach jumping, but he could tell. Immediately, her muddled moans were disrupted by a screech. His hand yanked away the toy, his fingers pulling out and the wet palm of his hand coming rough roughly onto her cunt.
“What did I say? Did I not just fucking tell you to hold it? You were going to do it anyway.” Again, his hand came down right over her clit, the sharp sting making her writhe under him.  Again. And again. The stringing of slaps to her most intimate area hurt, but they felt good. So good, and Bunny could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
With a glare, Harry’s fingers pulled her spit soaked panties from her mouth and held her jaw roughly, speaking to her through a cruel smile. “Does it hurt too bad?” He cooed, shaking her head back and forth before he narrowed his eyes. “Or…Did you like that? Did my pretty little pain slut like having her cunt smacked around?” He asked, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek. Y/N was stupified, eyes wide and wet and mouth open as she tried to find the words. “Yes or no, Bunny. Use those words. Or did Daddy take them away from you so quickly?”
“Yes, I liked it, Daddy.” Bunny could feel her face heating up as she breathed out her answer. Admitting it to him always made her feel so shy, even more so than being spread out like this. Her body belonged to him, she never wanted to hide from him after the first time. But saying she liked his twisted methods of domination was another story.  She used all the strength she had to hold herself up, using this opportunity to take in his expression. His face was wet—covered in her arousal, and his eyes were dark with pure lust. Primal desire, he couldn’t help himself. Every bit of her struggle to manage the immense pleasure sent him further into the headspace. He swore he could swallow her whole if she’d let him.
“Yeah? You like it, gorgeous?” Harry cooed, noticing the floaty look in her eyes. She was just as far gone as he was, he was glad she had convinced him to give in. His perfect girl, she really could take it.
“I do... I do, I love it.” She mewled, seeking his approval as she looked at him with glassy eyes and pouty lips. “Love e-everything you do to me. I want to make you happy.”
Harry felt that tiny bit of softness leak through the primitive layer, making him pet over her face softly before it melted away. She was dazed, looking like a baby deer- his helpless little Bunny. “I know you do. I could do anything I wanted and you’d thank me for it.” He sighed, shaking his head before pressing his lips to hers. A hint of softness before he had her.
“I could take this little toy….” He took the vibrator, switching it back on to a higher setting and placing it on her clit as he loomed over her shivering body, her mouth open and wet as she took uneven inhales. “And I could tape it to you. I could keep this little thing connected to your poor little clit and make you cum over and over for me until you can’t take it. And you’d thank me.”
A tear dripped down her cheek as she tried to hold back, the orgasm quickly rising as he had found the perfect spot, the perfect pace. “H-sir, sir- please let me cum, please, please, please.” She wrung her hands in the belt, the bite of the leather making her moan. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I wanna be good-“
And then, it was gone. A sob left her throat, frustration raising as Harry’s smirking face was her only vision.
“That was a cute beg. I liked it.” His smile resembled a wolf. Hunting her down, playing with his food. “Let’s try it again.”
Edging.
“No, no, no— Please!” Bunny cried, thrashing slightly in disapproval. “Please, please, please, please—“
Smack.
“Quiet,” Harry commanded, his voice stern as his hand roughly gripped her face. With furrowed brows he stared down at her, daring her to look away. “You were doing so well, what happened?” He kissed his teeth, dropping her from his grip. “If you want to cum you have to listen to me, brat.” He was testing his own patience. Hearing her beg was a weakness of his, but he wanted to prove a point.
Bunny simply nodded, bottom lip quivering for a moment. She wanted to cum so bad she could cry, the smack he placed across her cheek only fueling the fire in her core. “I’m sorry, sir.” She squeaked, blinking away her needy tears in hopes that he would touch her.
“Can I have a kiss? Please.” Her voice changed momentarily, needing him to ground her and remind her that she was doing well despite his harshness.
It was a moment of clarity, her shaky voice bleeding into a slightly unsure tone that had him softening up nearly immediately. It was good to know that his body truly could tell a difference. His fingers stroked her cheek where he had smacked, eyes gentle as he tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together for a loving kiss. “Doing so well for me. Can’t believe how well you’re taking this.” He murmured against her lips. “You’re okay?” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her seriously.
Thankfully she nodded, puckering her lips for a few more kisses which he readily gave to her before he could sense her melting back into position. “There. Good girl. Just tell me if you need me to stop, you know the safe word.” He gently tapped the tip of her nose before he let that dark mask take back over.
She was in awe of how he could do it. How he could be so loving and tender to her and then call her all the names in the book- and even more so because she loved it. Ate up every single piece of it
Without a word, he slipped his hand under her jaw to keep her eyes on him while the other flipped the vibrator back on. “You can cum this time. Then I think you’ll be nice and open for my dick. I want to see you be the pretty, needy little brat. Talk to me. Because as soon as I’m inside you, you’re not going to be able to.” He nudged their noses together. “Because you get so dumb on my cock. I love every bit of it. But someone’s got to remind you who you belong to.”
She belonged to him.
Everyone in this hotel would know that by the end of the night, Harry would make sure of it. Granting her permission to make noise, he knew there was no reason for her to hold back. He himself was tired of the muffled sounds, he wanted to hear her loud and clear.
“Thank you, sir, I-aH” Bunny’s breath hitched, relaxing into the feeling with a low whine. He had started it off deliciously slow again, though the pain from his previous torment had built up. She was sensitive.
“Just wanna cum, wanna show you how good you make me feel.” Bunny’s hands instinctually went to cup her tits but forgot about her bound wrists. She cursed him in her head, quickly losing herself in the pleasure as he turned the toy up another speed.
“Please slap my tits, want you to bite me again— I wanna cum for you over and over and over like you said, sir.” She was gone, far gone.  “I’m your good girl, I promise.”
Harry loved this. He loved every bit of it.
This woman called to every single part of him, making him feel slightly feral as she spoke. This was his best friend’s little sister, the woman he was supposed to protect, and yet she was here telling him to slap her tits, bite her, to make her cum. It was wrong in many senses of the word but Harry had found that part of that made it feel even better.
He growled under his breath, doing exactly as he wanted. “That’s what I wanted.” He chuckled, slapping her bare breast before pinching her nipple. The noise that came from her swollen mouth was unlike what he’d heard before, but it continued when he pulled on it. It was visible in her face, she was wrecked already and he wanted to get her there. Make her babble again, her shaking legs struggling to stay open as he leaned down to bite right on the swell of her breast.
Bunny let out another desperate mewl, the bite hurting so fucking good she was close to seeing stars. “Please, please, I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for you, I’m yours, keep biting me- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna….” Her frantic squeaks were paired with a dark noise from Harry’s throat, moving to her neck to bite down on the soft curve of her shoulder. As soon as his teeth dug in, she lost it.
The vibrations, the pain of them, his fingers twisting and pinching her breast, the perfect mixture to make her cum. A wail left her plushy mouth as Harry rutted slightly against her thigh, pulling his teeth away to watch her face scrunch in pleasure.
She could feel pins and needles in her legs, crying as she came. The work up to the orgasm, the restraint, his closeness, she was greedy and got one of her wishes.
Bunny sighed in satisfaction, her body convulsing as she rode out the orgasm. “Fuck! Ah-“ She hissed, finally feeling the buzzing of the vibrator on her clit. It seemed that Harry wasn’t satisfied with just the one. “It hurts, Daddy.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to turn it off though.
“Shh, give it a few moments, pet…” Harry mumbled against her skin, knowing if she waited long enough the pain would turn to pleasure. It took a few more moments and whines from her till he felt her hips buck up against the toy. “That’s it, give me another one like the greedy little whore you are.” He let his mouth move back down to her chest, sucking at the skin before finding another perfect patch to bite.
Her skin was so warm and smooth against him, though he was starting to get annoyed at the layers he still had on. He hadn’t even bothered to rid himself of his clothes, getting carried away in the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her either.
“Can I? Fuck— can I cum again? It feels so good, can I, can I, can I—“ Bunny’s breathing was picking up again, eyes squeezing shut as if that would stop the quickly building climax from ripping through her. “I can’t hold it, please say yes, please—”
Pulling off her nipple, his hand smacked against her breast before he barked out the order.
“Cum.”
She felt like she wasn’t in her own body, on her way out. Halfway in. She was hot, sweat on her brow as she shuddered under him. It was fuzzy, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth opened in a silent screech.
Harry loved watching her cum. How her body arched, how she shook, her jaw clenching and her chest heaving. He was going to make sure he could keep this vision exclusively his for the rest of his life.
“That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” He praised, laughing in disbelief as he felt her gush a little on his hand that held the toy. Messy, wet, everything he had been going for. He knew when it was starting to get too much, her squirm and whine signaling him for the right moment to stop. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the side and pressed their lips together, peppering filthy praises between the kisses.
“My fucking girl. So pretty when you cum for me. You drive me crazy. I’m so obsessed with you.” He panted, pulling back and taking her bound hands, and untying the belt off of her wrists.  They looked a little irritated, making him take a second to stroke over them and bring them together to kiss the irritated skin. “M’not sorry, precious. You loved it.”
He was quick to dispose of the rest of his clothes, kicking them whenever they landed. He just wanted her. She was boneless on the bed, his gorgeous woman, panting as she looked at him with wet cheeks and clenched thighs he had to pry back open.
“C’mon,Baby. Up.” He lifted her towards the top of the bed. settling her onto the pillows, her hair haloed across the linen pillowcases, her bitten lips plump and dark, cheeks wet with her tears from the pleasure. His angelic picture with a frame sent from hell.
“You can touch me now, but I need to be inside of you.”
“I want you,“ Bunny’s hands immediately flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots with vigor. She had been itching to do it since the minute his tongue swiped over her clit, her grip so tight she swore her knuckles were white. “Inside. Right now.” She was still breathless, lifting her head to connect their lips once again.
She loved to kiss him. She would be happy just kissing him forever, but why would she want to when he could fuck her like this? “You’re so hot,” She whined against him, “please put your cock in me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Bunny let one of her hands trail down his back, nails digging into the skin to inflict a bit of pain and emphasize her words. She needed his cock. “Call me greedy, I don’t care, I want it so bad— I wanna make a mess all over you. Want to feel you,” She trailed off, her eyes glazed over with desire. Her hand moved to grab his, placing it over the softest part of her belly. “Here.”
He had definitely broken her a bit. That shy, soft spoken spirit with a hint of tease had gone full blown need, showing her hand as she broke,  egging him for it. Whining. She liked to be manhandled, she liked how regardless of his rough actions he took time to praise and check in and it drove her mad.
His hand flexed on her stomach, a fire flaring through his body.  His Bunny begging him for it, not a hint of hesitation- it did something for him. A new wick lit inside, engulfing the rest of him in flames.  It triggered a thought. One that would have repulsed him had it been quite literally anyone else…but the girl under him had a way of making him completely and utterly ruin any walls he had up. Rubble on the pavement.
He obliged, settling between her legs and brushing the dripping, ruddy tip of his engorged cock through her slick and puffy lips. It was so easy to get wet enough, wasting little time as he began to push in.
“Then take it.” He whispered, sliding his hand under her neck to hold her there. Right at the nape, eyes watching as hers watered at the stretch. “You want me in your belly, baby? Want to be full of me?” Lips brushed hers. “You are such a needy, desperate little bitch. Y’know that? I adore every part of it. Makes me even more glad that you’re mine… but…” he hissed as she welcomed him in, finding his home deep seated in her cunt with his balls up against her ass. “When you do things like that, makes me want to breed you.” Their mingled breathing paused as Bunny’s caught in her throat. “Ought t’knock you up. Keep you full….. because you’re mine. You know it… but the world should know too, shouldn’t it? Should know *exactly* who you belong to.”
Y/N whined, wide eyed looking at him as her body reacted to the ultra possessive claim. He’s always been a domineering man, but something about such a permanent claim had them both hot. It would be the worst timing, but her legs tightened around him to keep him close.
“Please.” The bleated word hit his lips. “I- yes. Yes. I want it, I want you in my belly. Please do it.”
Harry snickered at her pleading, feeling his cock grow impossibly heavy inside her. She was begging for his load, to have his child. Part of him knew she was just spacey, but he decided he’d let himself imagine she truly meant it for the moment. Would hurt right?
“Asking so nicely, like a good little slut.” He purred, the same feral smile returning to his face. His hips pulled back only to snap back inside her with a guttural moan leaving his throat. “Fucking love your cunt,” He set a slow pace for himself, wanting to meld his cock into every part of her walls. “Think I could spend days inside of you and still never get enough…. And you’re squeezing me so tight, you still aren’t satisfied?”
“No, too slow.” Bunny breathed, at her wit's end. Feeling full of him wasn’t cutting it in this state, she was feigning. Her hips bucked up on her own, her back arching to lean further into him. Her bratty self wasn’t taking too well to this position. He was still going easy on her. “Don’t tease me anymore, know you want to fuck me stupid. Make me hurt. Show me how you want it.”
What she hadn’t expected, though, was the sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and kept her face still as he filled her to the brim, stopping the thrusts.
No. No, she needed more.
“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snarled. “No matter how good your cunt is, I’m the one who owns it. Making demands?” He laughed through his nose. “I’ll do as I damn well please.” His cock pulled back out to the tip before slamming back in, making the bed lurch and hit the wall.
She swore she saw stars, a scream leaving her lips as he repeated it again. Deep, so fucking deep that she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Where did my good whore go? I love that beg but-“ he gave another devastating thrust, making her pant, nails digging into his back roughly. “You turned into a brat. Lucky I need to empty my balls and you’ve got a perfect hole for it, or I’d take it away from you.”
Her grip was strong enough to break skin, nails clawing down the length of his back with primal need.
Harry groaned at the feeling, the burn adding to his arousal. He liked the pain she was inflicting upon him but needed to be closer, deeper.
Without much of a warning, he pulled out and flipped her around, slamming back into her with such force the bed frame smacked against the wall again.
“No more words, Princess? Already gone dumb on my cock?” Harry couldn’t stop his hips from pistoning in and out of her with force. The feeling of her milking him was far too good, he’d teased himself enough and it was time to give in. “Take it. Every, last, bit.” His voice grew dark, pushing himself up off of her so he could take in his view.
Beautiful supple skin ready to be marked in any way he pleased. Her ass was something he couldn’t resist. “Wanted to plug you up today, make you squirm till you begged for me to fill both of your holes.” Thwack. Harry paused to admire the trace left over on her skin. “I couldn’t wait. I knew you couldn’t either— filthy little slut. You’re dripping f’me.” He smirked, placing another heavy handed smack on the opposite cheek.
She didn’t know how good it would feel.
There had been a feeling. With how he had smacked her before, how he had held her a bit rough. She knew that she liked pain and liked to see him in a darker, dominant headspace- but she hadn’t expected to feel the stinging prickles on her cheek and have it travel down to her cunt, showing clearly now as he fucked into her. His smacks had made her moan, the garbled noise fueling him further. His fingers brushed over her hot skin gently and massaged the flesh as his cock pounded into her. A contrast to the heavy thrusts stealing her breath and the slamming of the headboard into the wall behind them.
“Fu-uck. I can’t- I….” She choked on her words as he shifted, one leg over her hip while he stayed between his thighs with the other one. Her ass was spread open with his hand, thumb pressing into her hole as she squealed and thrashed under him.
It was too much. Both her holes being filled, the jostling of her body, being tossed around with her face in the sheets, she came without permission. Screaming muffled into the fabric as her face was stained with sweat and tears, noises punched out of her as he didn’t let up.
If anything? It spurred him on.
The steady sound of the headboard smacking against the wall kept the two of them anchored in reality. They paid no mind to the slow cracking in the bed frame, instead, Harry found himself sinking deeper into a new headspace.
“Greedy girl,“ He growled lowly, his voice settling in the thick air of the room. The smell of sin was enough for him to feel high. “Can’t wait for permission?” Another smack reverberated throughout the room. “You‘ll give me another.” He demanded.
Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Unable to form a single sentence, she screamed while writhing beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision blurry, her body completely open. His words made her cunt clench, surprising herself with how much she could take. Her body was begging for more. Her head turned so she could catch her breath, attempting to stabilize herself with her grip on the sheets and mattress. It was no use.
“Knew you’d shut up.” Harry was feral. “Keep screaming, slut. This is exactly what you wanted wasn’t it?”
It was, it was exactly what the both of them wanted- and they wouldn’t be stopping.
Not until it was 3 in the morning, the bed had broken, and their muscles ached.
And a hole in the wall from the bed frame- but that would be a problem for when they woke up. So would Harry’s raised and bleeding scratch marks, the bruising on Y/N’s hips and wrists, the lack of voice she was going to have from screaming when he hit it just right- but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, it was time to relish in their unfiltered, unadulterated passion.
Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again?
394 notes · View notes
makncheese12 · 11 months
Text
Top Shelf pt. 5
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7
Masterlist
Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.
A/N: the location set for where they eat isn’t a place in New York I think but it is where I’m from so I’m using it🥲
You guys would be astonished if you knew who the characters I created represented
I had a hard time writing for the character I put in here because I’m still not sure how to write people like her🥲
Warning: my writing, language,
Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
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“I changed my mind,” Lyle says suddenly as you dry your hair off glancing toward him. Hair dye setting in hair that is now dyed half pink and half black as he smiles down at his phone.
The boy had an unhealthy obsession with dying his hair lately and you had to be the one to dye it.
“About what?” You ask tightening the towel around your body as you walk out of the bathroom and toward you closet. “This is my favorite.”
He holds up a picture of you and Jenna walking down the street from the last few days making you roll your eyes.
The two of you had hung out a quite a few times after the first time and you were starting to get used to the both her and the paparazzi’s presence in your life.
You were actually enjoying it. The scandal online of people thinking the two of you are dating with how much you two are together, not to mention the Instagram follow.
The photos that were taken of you both were decent.
It’s funny really. The pictures, the edits, being stopped suddenly in the street so Jenna could take a picture with a fan or sign something. You were enjoying seeing her interact with them and how different she acted with you.
The only downsides were the amount of threats and questions you were getting on Instagram. It got to the point where you had to turn off you messages.
Another being that when they took pictures of you it was always you looking at Jenna some type of way and it irked your nerves at how obvious your love struck state was.
“You just said that about the last one you saw.” You reply as you pull an outfit off the hangers.
“Yeah but this one is the one.” He says, rolling onto his back on your bed. “You two look so cute in it, plus your making lovey dovey eyes at her, as usual.”
You huff out before letting the towel drop and start to get dressed. “What’s you guys relationship, anyway?” He asks without looking up knowing you were changing.
What was it really? Truth be told, you didn’t know yourself.
“We’re friends, what else?” You say pulling your shirt over your head. He lets out a loud groan, plopping his phone down before rolling around on your bed.
“You cannot be serious right now.” He says now laying on his stomach and looking up at you.
You let out a huff pulling your pants up. You were just friends, friends who text and go out a lot. He was just jealous your time was being taken away from him surely.
You’d have to admit, spending time with Jenna was way better than spending time with Lyle. Not that you didn’t enjoy Lyle’s company it was just that Jenna gave you other feelings than Lyle ever could.
While Lyle made you feel disgust, happiness and frustration Jenna made you feel nervous, excitement and attraction.
The feelings were definitely different.
“You cannot be serious right now.” You repeat his words in a high pitch mocking tone before tossing your towel in the basket and making your way toward your desk.
“At what point will you take me seriously?” He asks as Achilles jumps on his back before settling into his new found seat.
“At what point will you be serious?” You ask. “Right now.” He replies, tossing his phone on the bed and looking toward you.
“You two are literally so cute together but very oblivious.” He says making you press your lips together and roll your eyes.
“I’m so serious, like,” he says sitting up and Achilles falls off before being picked up and put into his lap.
“I’ve seen the videos and pictures, one looking away while the others stares or the way you smile at each other.” He rambles as you let out a sigh.
It was true that you couldn’t deny your feelings for Jenna, Lyle knew that. The way she makes your heart beat faster at her unrelenting stare, the way her laugh makes you want to smile.
But you couldn’t assume her feelings for you, of course she wouldn’t have any other than friend ship.
“Just because you see something doesn’t make it real.” You reply, interrupting his list making him roll his eyes.
“I know what I see and I can see the attraction coming from both of you and onto the other.” He says menacingly stroking Achilles who purrs out closing his eyes.
“I never said I wasn’t attracted to her,” you argue shaking your head and he raises an eyebrow. ���I just think she doesn’t feel the same thing.”
The man lets out a hum of slight disapproval. “Obliviousness is truly a torture.” He says clicking his tongue and shaking his head.
“You have to show your attraction, not that you already have with those looks but you also have to say and show it.” He finishes and you knit your eye brows together.
Did he straight up want you to confess without knowing if she returned the feeling?
“How exactly?” You raise an eyebrow at him and lean back into your desk chair.
“Allow me to demonstrate.” Oh god.
The man stands and grabs your arms to pull you onto the bed to sit next to him. He sits closer to you and makes sure to get into your personal space. “This is weird.” You mumble scooting away from him slightly.
He only responds by scooting closer to you and looking into your eyes. You look around for a moment, unsure of what he was doing.
He continues to stare and you continue to look away, avoiding his eyes. “There,”
“What?” You ask, now confused with the man who was supposedly trying to help you.
“You have this issue of not being able to hold eye contact, it’s a form of attraction through body language.” He says, smirking down at you as you roll your eyes.
“It makes you seem sexy and mysterious.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you before leaning in with a kissy face and you stop immediately with your palm. “You’re not sexy nor mysterious at all.”
“Yeah, but I try.” He shrugs leaning back slightly. “But it really should work if someone finds any attraction toward you.”
“Okay, cupid,” you snort before scooting away from him once again. “Only problem is is that I’m not attracted to you.” You finish as the boy scoots closer to you.
He once again ignores you as he yanks your legs to face him. “Pay attention, demonstration number two.”
He puts his legs in the same position as yours, along with his posture.
“What is this?” You ask, once again confused as the man copies your movements. “It’s a big sign mostly, copying the movement of the person you like or mirroring the position. you used to do it a lot in high school when you dated that senior chick.” He replies and you send him a glare.
“I did not date her.” You reply, crossing your legs. “Yeah,” he says copying your movements. “But you had sex with her it’s the same thing.”
“You and I have very different perspectives on dating— stop that!” You raise your voice slightly as the man uncrosses his legs along with yours.
“Demonstration number three!” He claps before leaning his shoulder toward yours, body very close to yours as you try to lean away from him.
“Let me guess,” you huff out pushing his shoulders away from your own.
The man never had any form of personal space, even in your early years or when you first met. He was always in someone’s bubble.
“They lean toward you while your talking to them, focusing only on you.” You say as the man leans closer with a cheeky smile.
“Ding ding ding.” The mimicked sound of a bell makes you roll your eyes. “And tonight I will be on the look out for those signs.” He says smiling to himself in thought.
“Speaking of,” you say standing up and grabbing a towel from a pile. “Let’s get your hair done so we can get ready to go.”
“Insta story!” He grabs his phone before rushing past you and into the bathroom. You shake your head and let out a quiet chuckle at his obsession with pictures.
You all had that obsession though. Posting pictures and moments you like to have for later and to look at when you got older or grew apart. Not that he’d ever allow that to happened.
But it got to the point where you were scared of the pictures he had, you knew he had bad ones but you didn’t know how many. The scary part was that he had the power to post it whenever he wanted.
He should be afraid of the ones you had too.
“Hurry, I need to get a good angle before you wash it all out.” He rushes as he holds in the camera to the mirror as you grab gloves and begin putting them on ignoring the clicking sounds.
“Don’t worry, I’ll only post the good ones of you so your boo doesn’t see your bad angle.” He says while scrolling through the pictures making you roll your eyes.
“She’s not my boo.” You mumble and he snorts. “Whatever you say.”
————
“Remember,” the man walking next to you says after pulling your head phones off. “Look for my three attraction signs.”
You huff out and nod while scooting closer toward him as more people entered the train.
“And if she doesn’t show any signs?” You ask, chest against his as someone bumps into you. You both send a subtle glare before looking back toward each other.
“Then you show them,” he smirks down at you, hair tied up in a half up half down style but still having some strands cover his face. “I’m sure she’s not as dense as you are.”
You now send him the glare as you glance down at your phone before smiling at the sight of Jenna’s double text before texting back.
Jenna -
We’re on the way now:)
My friend can’t wait to meet you!
You -
Lyle is just as enthusiastic about meeting you
We’re on the train about be there
Jenna -
Cant wait to meet him
“‘Love struck’ is definitely the word to describe you.” Lyle states and your smile falls looking up at him.
“Don’t hide it now, I’ve already seen you smiling at your phone like she’s there for real.” He rolls his eyes before checking his own phone.
“Whose her friend anyway?” He asks and you shrug. “She won’t say, says it’s a surprise.”
“Great, yet another sexy and mysterious individual in our lives.” He shakes his head and you hit his chest with the back of your hand.
The train comes to a slow stop before the doors open allowing you both to make your way out and toward the exit.
It’s a struggle though as you move past the many people in the train station trying to find a way out without pushing.
“Jeez, the tourist this time of year are always so annoying.” The man mumbles, grabbing your hand. He was right, people wanting to spend Christmas in New York was a hassle but it was worse after Christmas was over.
“Watch it!” A man calls pushing past your shoulder. “Sorry..” You mumble getting closer to Lyle as the man glares down at you before moving through the crowd once more.
“Asshole.” Lyle mumbles, wrapping his arm through yours to keep you close as you both finally make it out of the crowded staircase.
“Come on, before we’re late meeting your boo and her friend.” The man pulls you through the street as you groan.
“She’s not my boo! Stop saying that it’s so weird.” You say as he drags you through the crowd. “But you want her to be.” He calls out in a sing song voice that makes you gag.
He slows down after a moment, deep in thought as you stare up at him.
Another moment goes by before he lets out a hum.
“You never really confirmed it,” he says glancing down toward you. “If you actually want her or not. Yeah, you said you were attracted to her but not if you actually liked her.”
The statement causes your entire face to heat up as you look away from the boy.
You never really thought about it, mostly thinking about how stunning she looked or when she would text and ask to hang out next. Never once did you think about if you could actually be in a real relationship with her.
“In a sense..” you mumble scratching the back of your head. He raises his eyebrow at you and waits patiently for you to finish.
You both take notice to people glancing in your direction, whispers suddenly surround you. Something you were still getting used to.
“I mean, I do like her.” You start your ramble and the boy smiles. “She’s amazing, perfect even. Her personality is even better than it is on TV, she’s funny, way more considerate of where I want to go with her, she talks just enough to where I can also talk, she’s absolutely gorgeous,” you continue your list and Lyle nods, smile growing as you speak.
He had never seen you so passionate about something other than the music you listen too or something you’ve hyper fixated on. So listening to you speak of something — or rather someone — else was definitely a sight for him to see.
He knew the brunette had you wrapped around her finger just by your long list, even if you didn’t know it yourself.
“And did I mention she has a great sense of style?” You suddenly come to a stop of your rambling. “I’ve seen it plenty to know.” He laughs and you groan out.
“Okay, so why don’t you make a move exactly?“ he asks and your smile falls.
“Why would she say yes to me?” You ask lowly as the boys smile falls to.
She had many other options with people who could treat her to a life of luxury or even just treat her better. So why would she pick the weird library kid who stays inside playing video games all day?
“You’re all those things too, minus to the style of course.” Lyle tries to comfort you only for you to elbow him in his gut.
“I’m being serious,” he laughs grabbing your arm and pushing it away lightly. “You’re just as amazing as anyone else. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He finishes with a small smile.
You nod slowly before looking back forward and grabbing for his hand.
“Don’t be gross now.” You mumble and the boy chuckles to himself.
You both continue to walk through down the street before arriving at the location sent to you by Jenna making Lyle let out a loud gasp.
“Sushi?” He asks, arms spread out as he gestures to the red sign ‘Kenko’s habachi’ as if he was trying to hug it. “How’d she know?! What’d you tell her?” He questions are more of demands as he turns to you.
“Nothing, as I said.” You say, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “She has taste.”
A grimace is set on his face at your comment. “Please don’t tell me your referring to yourself.” Your face falls and you point to it, clearly annoyed at his comment after your last conversation.
“Kidding,” he says turning back toward the building like a child in a toy factory. “So how does this work? Do we go inside and wait?”
“We just wait, I usually do.” You say, taking a seat on a nearby bench as the man continues to stare up.
“What a good dog.” He replies only giving you a glance. “But what about seats?” He asks mc ignoring your loud huff.
“Usually taken care of.” You say before slipping your head phones back on and turning up the sound to drown out what ever he says.
You close your eyes and begin to think of the various ways this night could go. Lyle embarrassing you to death, the so called signs he wants you to use and look for, Jenna’s friend, how Jenna looks. Anything to pass the time before you come to a realization.
How long was she staying in New York?
She had been here for about a month and half now, at least since you’ve known her. She was bound to leave for LA again to be with her family and home again.
The thought made you feel some sort of dread. The relationship you both built could go crumbling down once she left and you couldn’t do anything about while all the way across the United States.
Then again what could you do? Ask her not to return to her home and stay with you? Not possible. You weren’t in any position to ask such a question but that wouldn’t stop you from begging if you had a choice to.
Who wouldn’t want to be on the knees in front of such a woman after all?
You’re pulled from your thoughts as your head phones are yanked off. Your eyes snap open to see Lyle glaring down toward, Jenna trying to hold in her laugh and a girl who’d you recognized after watching Jenna’s most recent show.
You didn’t know her name but you knew not to call her by the name you knew her by, that would end horrible on your end by Lyle.
“Hey,” Jenna says as you stand up and snatch your head phones back from Lyle. “Hey.” You reply and Lyle makes a face.
“‘Hey’? That’s it?” He whispers to himself as if he were expecting more and you send him a glare.
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” Jenna says gesturing to your head phones as you put them back in their case.
“Are you suggesting that I have a head phone problem?” You ask, smirk in your face as you shove the container into your pocket.
She considers the question for a moment before nodding. “Maybe a little?” She says and your face falls as it does whenever Lyle tries to say something funny.
“I’m only saying you have them in all the time right before I see you.” She defends putting her hands up.
“What else am I meant to do? Just sit there or walk? No, I gotta have some sort of background noise that’s not yelling or cars honking.” You huff out and shake your head.
Jenna’s smile grows as she looks up at you.
You glance to Lyle who puts up a single finger mouthing ‘number one’ making you internally roll your eyes.
Your eyes travel back to Jenna who continues to smile and stare and you can’t help but agree with. The eye contact was insanely attractive when it came to her as you try your hardest not to look away from hers.
You both continue to stare unbeknownst to the pair beside you. It was starting to become unbearable for the two, is this all what you two did?
Sure, it was only a few moments that and passed but it was still awkward.
Lyles eyes travel to the girl Jenna brought as he presses his lips with a suggestive look on his face that makes the girl smile and nod in agreement to his silent statement.
“Well then!” Lyle calls out clapping his hands together. “Re-introductory time,” he smiles and holds out his hand to Jenna.
“Great to meet you again on less awkward time, I’m Lyle.” He says as she takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you, i’ve heard a lot about you.” She says and Lyle smirks.
“As have I about you.” Your cheeks rise in heat as you clear your throat and look away from the two.
“Oh! And this is Emma.” Jenna introduces and the girl steps forward with a adorable smile you can’t help but notice.
“Hi, I’ve also heard a lot about you.” She laughs as she shakes your hand. Jenna’s cheeks also get warm as she she sends a small kick to her friends foot you don’t seem to notice.
“It’s nice to meet you, Emma.” You say before Lyle begins rushing the three of you.
“Sushi time, let’s go. Let’s go!” The man states as you all make your way inside.
“I’m beginning to see what you meant by him being a bit much.” Jenna says watching Lyle make his way toward the fish tank like a child.
You huff out before going after him. “Dude,” you mumble as you watch him watch the fish. “You’ll get to eat some in a bit, stop slobbering on the glass.”
“You two really are bad at reading signs.” He replies, head turning side ways but eyes never leaving the tank. “You’re trying too hard to act natural, just relax.”
You scoff before pulling him back toward the duo only to see Emma whispering something to Jenna whose face had only become more red.
The waitress grabs four menus and makes her way toward the back of the restaurant.
“I love your hair, by the way.” Emma says, falling back to walk with Lyle who gives her a toothy smile. “Why thank you, I just got it done.” He says as if he had paid to get it done, you should have made him pay.
You watch as the waitress places the menus down in a booth before making your way to one side and taking a seat. Jenna not too far behind you as she subconsciously decides to sit with you.
Lyle looks back at Emma with the same suggestive look on his face as he allows her to enter first before following after.
He takes notice to how close you both sit and allows a small smirk to set into his face before opening his menu and slamming it shut immediately.
You send him a questioning look as you opening your own. You places his hand on the table and drums two fingers on the table, looking around trying to be discreet.
You let out a quiet huff before looking back down to your menu, unable to resist the urge to look through your peripheral view to see he was in fact right.
Jenna seemed to be doing what Lyle was doing earlier. Your legs were slightly tilted toward hers and so were hers, hands holding the menu as you did.
But then again she was very focused on said menu, not enough to be able to copy anything you were doing. You were glad he was sort of wrong but also disappointed.
“You’d definitely like the shrimp tempura, it’s actually cooked but also really good for sushi.” Lyle states as he points to Emma’s menu, elbows on the table as he leans over to look over her menu. You watch Emma’s eyebrows raise as he continues to recommend different things, clearly listening carefully as she nods along.
A small smile forms on your face, his lack of personal space was indeed always there. Even for strangers. But then again that was his specialty, finding friends by just simply being himself rather than acting awkward.
But then there was his humor that threw most people off, very dark. You were used to it though, him mentioning things that would put him in an insane asylum before laughing to himself making the people who get it laugh as well.
“What are you getting?” Jenna’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts as your eyes snap from Lyle and Emma to Jenna who seemed to be sitting much closer than before.
You lean over to look at her menu forgetting about your own in your hand as you point to the thing you get the most.
She scrunches her nose — the action absolutely adorable — slightly as she read the description, clearly displeased with you answer. “Really?”
You shrug before closing your own menu and sliding it forward. “It’s what I’ve eaten for the past few times, i think it’s good.” You lean against your hand on the table, body turned to her more.
She nods to herself for a moment before looking back down to her menu, once again you find yourself jealous of a menu.
Lyle takes notice to your longing stares and Jenna obliviousness take scowls in distaste at the sight.
With how much you talked about her he would think you would be flirting at this point with how much you’ve hung out. But no, you clearly are too much of an idiot not to see both you and Jenna’s body language toward each other.
“But what is the best platter?” Emma asks suddenly and your attention is suddenly drawn toward her as you lean over the table to talk.
He gapes at you for a moment, wondering why you would take your attention off your ‘date’ to recommended things to his before he got the chance.
You had a goddess next to you and you decided to talk about platters? He decides then and there it was time to take matters into his own hands.
His eyes travel to Jenna who no longer looks at her menu, instead toward you and Emma with a look in her eyes Lyle knows inside and out.
He stares at her and waits for a moment, clearly intent on getting her to look back at him and she does.
He narrows his eyes her before tilting his head which makes her in return knit her eye brows. He glances toward you then back to her before raising an eyebrow.
Jenna too glances at you before biting her lip nervously before looking back to him. He widens eyes while keeping his eyebrow raised and tilting his head to the side to gesture toward you.
Jenna hesitates for a moment, looking between Lyle and you before nodding along with Lyle who lets out a silent breath.
At least someone took his hints.
She sends him one last glance as you sit back into your seat, all four of you now waiting on the waitress, Lyle and Emma taking up a new conversation topic.
“I meant to tell you before,” Jenna says suddenly catching both you and Lyles attention. “Your outfit looks really nice.” The compliment is subtle yet noticeable.
You look down to look at your outfit you had actually tried on. Ever since you met Jenna you had actually been trying on looking good instead of wearing simple jeans and a sweat shirt. Not that you’d ever tell her that.
“Thank you, my mom actually bought this for me.” You say and Lyle froze before his eyes travel to you in horror.
Who responds to a compliment like that?
“Well, she knows what colors look good on you.” Retorts, saving her own compliment. It works as your face heats up and you smile before chuckling nervously as the waitress walks up you table.
Lyle felt his eye twitch as you order, the sudden urge to strangely you was set into his mind as his finger start to flex.
The audacity of you not complimenting her back was an atrocity.
His eyes travel to Jenna who seemed well satisfied with her compliment and your reaction, far more confident than before. It did not satisfy Lyle.
As the waiter walks away, Lyle felt the need to punish you for your crimes. He quickly kicks his foot out attempting to kick you but instantly regrets it.
“Ow!” Jenna calls out and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?” You ask as soon as the word leaves Jenna’s lips.
“Did you just kick me?” Jenna asks, looking up to Lyle whose face sets into panic before looking to you. The worried look on your features evident as you place a hand on Jenna’s arm. He decides this was a far better punishment.
“Yeah,” he nods and looks to you. “Did you just kick her?” The attitude in his accusation bewilders you as your mouth hangs open.
“What?” You ask, glaring at the boy who glares back. “Why would you kick her?” He asks, gesturing his hands toward you and you let out a laugh.
“That’s funny,” you say shaking your head at the boy who crosses his arms. “I’m sitting right next to her how would that be possibly?” You ask and the man shrugs in exaggeration.
“I don’t know, you tell me!” He says and you huff out. Jenna, the pain now forgotten, finds the petty argument amusing as Emma just sits there sipping her drink enjoying the drama completely oblivious to what’s going on.
————
Lyle watches as the two of you speak while walking ahead, well more so Jenna talks and you stare shamelessly. You two walk closely, closer than the distance He and Emma walked together or just regular friends. Further proving his third demonstration to be correct.
His eyes travel to the paparazzi who also shamelessly stared and took pictures then back to you.
You two were to busy in your own little world to really notice. Now he sees why there were so many pictures, you two were just out there rather than hiding away in the safety of privacy.
The privacy you used to enjoy before Jenna, the privacy you needed for your family but just didn’t care anymore.
“Those two are so annoying,” he mumbles, catching Emma’s attention. “I mean, they’re clearly interesting in each other but Y/N doesn’t want to admit it!”
Emma’s eyes light up at his statement. “Exactly, thank you!” Emma says and the man’s eyes snap to hers. “All she talks about is Y/N.” Emma comes back to a sudden quietness the two had and his interest is now piqued.
“Go on,” he says, nudging her with his elbow and raising his eyebrows.
“I mean, she doesn’t only talk about Y/N but whenever she gets tracked up in her phone it always ‘Y/N texted’ or ‘I’m texting Y/N, hold on’. It’s ridiculous but what’s really annoying is when we try to get her to ask her out and she says that that’s a stupid thing to do and doesn’t think she likes her back or something.”
Lyle’s head snaps to her, eyes wide. “She thinks that?” He asks making them slow down so you two didn’t hear their conversation.
Emma hesitates for a moment, clearly debating if Jenna would like this or not but ultimately decides to nod.
“But why?” He asks and the girl tilts her head slightly in question. “I can understand Y/N because of many different reasons but Jenna? She can have castle full of people to choose from and they’d all want her.”
“Maybe that’s why,” Emma says. “Because of how many people she could possibly have, she doesn’t think that any want her for her.”
Lyle takes a moment to think that through and she was in fact right.
She met you by chance and you didn’t know who she was which most likely made the situation feel real. She could tell you about herself without you knowing information from online — true or not true— and you could tell her about yourself without lying to make her more interested in you.
It was all authentic and she could play it out her own way, especially with you already barely knowing her.
“You’re right,” he mumbles in response as he watches Jenna laugh and you smile at her. The smile was one he didn’t recognize, it was far warmer and soft than what he was used to.
Yes, she truly did have you wrapped around her finger.
“We should totally help each other out,” he says suddenly making the girls smile raise. “I could give you little pointers of what Y/N says and you give me one’s Jenna says, you know to keep things up to date for them.”
Emma’s eyes travel to the two of you as you both talk, still ignoring the paparazzi who try to get the best shots in strange positions.
“Plus, I do like to give Y/N little heart attacks so having information on Jenna would help with that.”
The girls smiles once again, clearly interesting on doing the same to Jenna as she pulls her phone out.
————
Lyle once again watches as you hug Jenna before she waves and gets into her car in absolute disgust and disappointment at how short a time you held her. You could have let it linger for a moment, he wouldn’t have minded waiting another moment.
She gets into the tented window car, Emma following suit as she taps her phone to Lyle who nods and throws her a thumbs up.
Her smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by Lyle as you shut the door behind and watch the cat drive off.
Once it’s completely out of view, he hits the back of your head with the back of his hand. And he does so very hard.
“Ow! What the hell!” You hiss out as your hand comes up to hold it. “I’m starting to see why you’re so worried,” he states angrily before turning on his heels and walking.
“You’re absolutely useless to my game of entertainment. You could have at least done a little bit of flirting.”
He continues to walk, now blocking out your yelling and argument as he sets in his plan to do something about this himself since you can’t do a single thing on your own anymore.
Read next part here! (Coming soon)
A/N: I know this is a itty bit rushed but idc cause the juicy stuff is going to happen now, me and my friend have decided to stop teasing and actually get this done.
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katelynnwrites · 9 months
Text
We’ll Be A Fine Line (We’ll Be Alright) | Felicitas Rauch
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warnings: descriptions of blood, injury and general angst along with mentions of smut
word count: 4612
summary: feli accidentally injures you during an international game
a/n: happy monday. i’ve actually always wanted to write this prompt so i’m pretty excited about this. also i couldn’t resist adding that last part, i’m not sorry 😂
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You love international breaks. The chance to represent your country on the world’s stage is not something you would ever take for granted.
After you made the move to Germany, to play for VfL Wolfsburg, international breaks become even more special.
They become one of the few times you’re able to be in the country of your birth, with the friends you have grown up with.
This time, you’ve been given an even more special chance, a rare opportunity to play against your German, Wolfsburg teammates.
You’re especially looking forward to playing against one particular teammate.
She’s a defender and you’re a striker. It’s a cliche really.
Ahead of the upcoming Arnold Clark Cup, your girlfriend had bet you that you wouldn’t be able to score against her and you had countered her bet with your own, that she wouldn’t be able to prevent you from scoring.
The reward of the bet is interesting, that the winner will be able to do anything she likes with the other.
And you really really want to win. The thought of being able to have your way with a certain Felicitas Rauch being more than enough incentive for you.
******
England playing against Germany is the last fixture of the tournament so playing against Feli isn’t really on your mind yet.
You do however, text her frequently and in return, receive a constant stream of TikToks that she has found funny.
You’re laughing at one of them when Georgia plonks down in the seat next to you.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing Georgie.’
‘Aw come on! You’re never here anymore and now that you are, you won’t even tell me what you’re laughing about.’ Georgia pouts.
You soften at her words and quickly unlock your phone, showing her the video Feli had sent you.
The Manchester City player chuckles.
‘That is funny.’ She says and you laugh again.
‘I didn’t know you had a dog though.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes you? Your lockscreen is a brown poodle.’ Georgia says in confusion.
‘Oh! She’s not exactly my dog.’
‘Okay…’ Georgia’s confusion only increases and she makes to ask more questions only to be unable to do so because Sarina starts giving instructions.
As you listen to your coach, you glance down at your lockscreen of Cinnamon before unlocking your phone once more, this time to look at your wallpaper.
It’s a good thing Georgia had only seen your lockscreen because your wallpaper, a photo of Felicitas kissing you would have been a lot harder to explain.
******
It had completely slipped your mind to tell your England teammates about Feli.
There had just been so many things going on, your recent move to Germany, a new apartment for you to settle, a new style of play for you to adapt to and your struggle to learn a new language.
Your relationship with Feli had started amongst all that and before you knew it, months had passed by.
How could you tell them about your German girlfriend now?
******
On the contrary, Feli’s national teammates know all about you.
So many of them played at Wolfsburg with you and the rest have heard all about how head over heels Felicitas is for you.
They would never miss an opportunity to tease Feli who is usually reserved and a tad shy.
The perfect opportunity lies in whenever she calls you.
Somehow even when you are countries apart, you always manage to make your girlfriend blush.
Her German teammates love you for that and you frequently get sent photos of Feli’s red cheeks during the international breaks.
******
Having headed up to your hotel room early, you make the most of your roommate’s absence to call Felicitas.
She answers almost immediately, her smile being the first thing you see.
‘Hi my love.’
‘Hello.’ She greets, cheeks already dusted with pink from the term of endearment.
You grin, ‘How’s England treating you?’
‘Good but I miss you.’
‘I miss you too Feli but we’ll see each other tomorrow.’
‘I can’t wait.’ Your girlfriend murmurs.
She adjusts her phone, giving you a glimpse of her surroundings. It looks like she’s out on her hotel room’s balcony.
Having finished propping her phone up, she cheekily asks, ‘Ready to lose?’
You laugh, ‘You wish.’
‘Liebling, being able to do whatever I want to you is pretty good motivation. There’s no way that I am losing.’ Feli states.
Confidently, she adds, ‘I’m sure you’ll like what I have planned.’
‘Well as nice as that sounds, I think that both you and I will prefer what I have in mind for when I win.’
There’s no mistaking the tone in your voice.
Feli swallows hard, her blush intensifying as she stammers, ‘S-Sorry liebling. No can do.’
You giggle and your girlfriend looks away in embarrassment, clearing her throat.
‘I love you but I won’t be losing. You’ll see.’
‘We’ll see.’ You agree.
You’re content to just look at her but you hear the door of your hotel room opening.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you Felicitas.’
Feli nods, having heard your roommate from her end of the call.
‘Ich liebe dich. I’m really excited to see you.’
She ends the call, just as your roommate enters the room fully.
‘Who were you talking to?’ Leah asks curiously.
‘A teammate from Wolfsburg.’ You answer honestly.
‘She speaks German to you?’
‘She’s trying to teach me to pick it up faster. I’ve not been too good at it so far.’ You laugh self deprecatingly and your roommate giggles.
‘Are you feeling okay about playing against your club teammates tomorrow? It must be a little weird for you.’ Leah asks, unintentionally slipping into her role as captain.
‘It is but I’ll be okay Lee. We had a conversation about it before I left Germany. We promised that there would be no hard feelings and we’re actually quite looking forward to it.’
******
Sarina and the other coaching staff had asked you about how your German teammates at Wolfsburg played. You had given them as much as you could, telling them about your personal experiences with their playing styles.
They have also come up with their predictions for Germany’s starting lineup.
It’s no surprise to you that they think Feli will be playing.
Your girlfriend had gone from being left out of the 2019 World Cup to being Germany’s starting leftback and you could not be any prouder of her.
You see the work she puts in day in and day out and you know that she deserves to be there.
When you arrive at the stadium, you see that Sarina is right. Feli is starting for Germany and as you line up near her in the tunnel, you give her a brief hug that lets her know that you are proud of her.
You know that the extra tight squeeze she gives you in return means that she understands and is proud of you too.
******
Ellen White scores first, with you assisting her goal.
You can’t help but smirk at Feli as you walk back to your position.
She rolls her eyes at you and later when you’re within earshot, reminds you that you haven’t won the bet yet as you weren’t the one who scored.
******
The rest of the game goes as expected, with Germany playing physically and England playing the ball forward as much as possible.
Your Wolfsburg teammates have landed quite a few tackles on you but have helped you up each time.
You don’t take it to heart, having expected it already. It’s not like you have not done your fair share.
Playing in Germany has rubbed off on you and you now have a tendency of being a little more physical.
You haven’t had any direct contact with Felicitas though, the defender being kept occupied by your English teammates.
By the 94th minute, you know you’re going to win. While you yourself have not scored, Millie and Fran have added to England’s goal tally.
Lina Magull scoring in the 41st minute is not enough for Germany.
You’re thinking about ways to somehow convince your girlfriend that you’ve won the bet anyway as you begin lining up for a corner.
It’s in Germany’s favour but you’re not particularly worried, knowing that Mary has the safest hands around and that this corner will probably be one of the last actions of the game.
Feli’s taking the corner and you focus back on the game just in time to see the ball fly.
You jump up, along with everyone else but Leah is the one who gets her head on the ball.
She clears it and then you’re off, sprinting clear of the other players. Maybe you would be able to win your bet properly.
The ball gets passed to you and you make a run for the goal, only to be taken out a fraction of a second later.
You scream.
There’s no other way to express the horrific pain you are in.
You’re not even aware of the way your body curls in on itself or the way your hand blindly clutches at your injured ankle.
Sobbing into the grass, you cry out again as gentle hands turn you over.
If your eyes weren’t squeezed shut, you would see that your girlfriend looks like she’s about to throw up.
‘I didn’t mean to. Oh my god I never meant to hurt her.’ She repeats, over and over again.
Feli is inconsolable, shaking all over as she looks at you on the ground.
Your English teammates push her away, in their rush to get to you.
She doesn’t register Keira shouting at her or Lucy holding the ginger back.
Laura grabs her and moves her aside, just enough so that she can still see you but not be in the way of the worried England team.
‘She’s going to hate m-me.’ Felicitas stutters.
‘Hey Feli she won’t. It was an accident.’ Laura tries but Feli isn’t hearing any of it. She trembles harder when Laura hugs her tightly, the Eintracht Frankfurt player doing her best to keep her friend’s breakdown from the cameras.
The German players gather around Felicitas, helping Laura to block her.
Your English teammates are trying to do the same for you.
You’re still crying, unable to answer any of the questions the medical staff are asking you.
‘Feli.’ You whimper.
‘Felicitas.’ You plead again.
Leah squeezes your hand. You hadn’t even realised that she’s holding your hand.
‘Yes. It’s Felicitas Rauch that tackled you.’ Leah tells you, thinking that it’s what you want to know.
It isn’t.
‘I want Felicitas. I want my girlfriend.’ You beg.
Leah blinks but doesn’t question you, knowing that you are in no shape to properly answer anything.
She just gets you your girlfriend.
******
‘She didn’t mean it.’ Alex Popp states, as Leah approaches.
‘I hope not. Rauch needs to go to her girlfriend now.’
‘No. I can’t be near her. She won’t want me there.’ Feli cries, furiously shaking her head.
Leah glances at you and then back towards her before firmly saying, ‘Look I don’t know you. But she’s in a lot of pain and asking for you so I’m bringing you to her whether you like it or not.’
******
‘Liebling, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I should never have gone in for that tackle.’ Felicitas rushes out.
‘Feli…’ You gasp and your girlfriend chokes back a sob, taking your hand in hers.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to but Feli it really really hurts.’
You’re trying your hardest not to cry more but a few tears slip free anyway.
The expression on your girlfriend’s face looks like heartbreak but she whispers, ‘I know. I know. You’ve got to let the medics take you off the pitch now okay?
Trying to be brave, you nod and the medical staff takes it as their cue to put you on the stretcher.
‘Please don’t leave me.’ You beg and Felicitas scrubs her tears off her face. She angrily thinks to herself that she doesn’t have to right to cry.
‘I promise. I’m right here liebling.’
Her gaze remains on your face but the briefest glance at your bloodied and bruised ankle, now visible thanks to the medical staff who had removed your boot and rolled down your sock makes her want to be sick again.
Feli’s face is pale and tear stained but she never lets go of your hand.
She’s right beside you, holding your hand and walking off the pitch with you.
The referee decides to end the match there but that doesn’t matter to your girlfriend who would have walked off the pitch anyway, regardless of what the referee and coaches had to say.
******
Your girlfriend is carefully stroking your hair, doing her best to soothe the pain she had unintentionally caused you.
The bed you are sitting up on is cold but Feli’s hands are warm. You try to focus on that, letting her familiar touch give you some comfort.
The medical staff are examining your ankle now but by just looking at it, you think that there’s little chance you would escape with a mild injury. You are sure you would be on the sidelines for a while.
When your team doctor looks up at you and gives you a little head shake, you know your suspicions have been proven.
‘I’m really sorry but you’re definitely going to have to go to the hospital now. We’ll contact your club and let them know.’
‘How bad is it?’
‘A few months out at least. Your ankle is badly sprained and the hospital will give you a more thorough x-ray but from what I can tell, it’s been fractured.’
Your face crumples and you bury your face in Feli’s shoulder. Her arms wrap around you, holding you close.
‘I’ll give you a moment.’ The doctor murmurs before leaving.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Felicitas breathes.
You cry even harder, the throbbing pain in your ankle doing you no favours.
Your girlfriend inhales shakily, kissing the side of your head before beginning to pull away.
You stiffen the instant you feel her loosening her grip on you.
Your eyes widen in fear and you panickedly ask, ‘Feli w-where are you going?
‘Don’t you want me to go? I’m the reason you can’t play let alone walk. I hurt you liebling.’
‘No. You didn’t mean to. Stay please. I need you. Please Felicitas, don’t go.’
‘I won’t.’ She whispers, her heart breaking all over again as she realises exactly how vulnerable you are.
‘You promise?’
Your girlfriend hugs you close, ‘I promise. As long as you want me here, I’m here.’
******
You don’t want Felicitas to leave your side. You think she understands as well because she’s still sitting by the side of your bed and holding your hand when you wake up.
Her Germany kit has been replaced by a hoodie and shorts so you think that one of her teammates must have helped her out.
The German player’s eyebags have always been pronounced but the sleepless night she has had have made them so much darker, like bruises under her eyes.
‘You’re awake.’ She mumbles, when she feels you moving around.
You frown, trying to wiggle your toes only to fail. The new cast on your leg sees to that.
You don’t remember it being there so you assume that the doctors at the hospital must have done it after you had taken the painkillers which knocked you right out.
‘Felicitas? Does this mean I’ve won my bet?’
‘The bet? Liebling, that’s what you want to talk about right now?’ Feli’s tone is incredulous and surprising to you.
‘Why not Feli?’
‘Because I hurt you. My mistimed tackle broke your ankle.’
‘Fractured.’ You correct but your girlfriend winces all the same.
‘You are here because of me. You won’t be playing for three months. Can you please yell at me? Be angry at me liebling.’ Felicitas insists.
‘No.’ You answer simply.
‘No?’
‘I’m not mad at you. I know that it was an accident. You would never hurt me intentionally.’
‘I would never and it was an accident but please be angry at me. I deserve to have you hate me.’ Your girlfriend begs.
‘No. I will never hate you Felicitas. I love you. You’re the love of my life.’ You easily say.
The words come naturally to you because it’s all true. You know it in your heart.
Felicitas bites back a sob, ‘I love you so much. You’re the love of my life too.’
‘Don’t hate yourself Feli. It really was an accident. An unfortunate one but an accident nevertheless.’ You softly plead.
Your girlfriend exhales shakily, leaning in close and pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
You shiver, closing your eyes and soaking in the feel of her lips on your skin.
‘Feli?’ You breathe.
‘What is it?’
Your request is barely audible, ‘Can you kiss me please?’
Felicitas kisses your cheek carefully in response.
‘A proper kiss Felicitas. I-I haven’t had one of those for weeks and I miss it. I’ve missed you.’
You’re so shy that prior to the events of the last twenty four hours, Feli would have teased you before showering you in as many kisses as possible.
But now she quietly checks, ‘Are you sure? I have missed you so incredibly much but I don’t want to cause you more pain.’
‘You won’t. Felicitas I know you won’t.’ You swear fervently and your girlfriend gives in.
Her lips brush against yours gently and so tentatively that it makes you want to cry.
‘More. Please Feli please.’
Felicitas can’t deny you. She has never been good at doing so but now she finds herself completely unable to even try.
Her hands cradle your face tenderly and she gives you the most loving kiss she can.
You would have cried if the door of your hospital room didn’t open. As it is, Feli pulls away from you with a sharp jerk.
‘Okay then…Is this a bad time?’ Leah asks.
Behind her, Alessia and Tooney’s faces are tomato red from the display of affection. It makes you giggle.
‘No. I’d say come in but you’re already inside.’ You joke.
Leah laughs and places the bouquet of flowers she had been holding on your bedside table.
‘They’re beautiful, thanks Lee.’ You genuinely tell her.
The England captain smiles at you, ruffling your hair in the manner that only an older sister does.
Alessia and Ella settle themselves onto the couch along the side of your hospital room and you give them a warm smile.
Felicitas stands awkwardly beside you and as Leah starts telling you about how the other England girls will be along any minute, she murmurs, ‘I’ll give you a moment liebling.’
‘No don’t go. Stay. I’d like you to meet my national teammates.’
Your girlfriend hesitates and you add, ‘They’ll be nice to you, I promise. You can tell them what the doctor said because I was asleep for most of it.’
‘Okay…’ Feli sits back down by your bed and you grin, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with hers.
Leah looks at you expectantly and you sheepishly grin at her.
‘I’m sorry for not telling you earlier but this is my girlfriend. I always meant to introduce you guys to her but I guess she made her own introduction.’
All three of your national teammates chuckle at your sense of humor.
‘Nice to meet you.’ Feli cautiously says.
‘It’s nice to meet you too Rauch. Next time have a less dramatic introduction okay?’ Leah teases.
You laugh and Feli has a tiny smile on her face when she agrees.
******
You think your hospital room must be the noisiest one around. You’re actually worried that the nurses would kick all of your fellow players out.
When Laura Freigang arrives, bringing a pack of Sharpies along with a couple of other German players, the noise level gets even higher.
Your friends argue over who gets to sign your cast first but you put a stop to it.
‘My girlfriend gets to go first.’
Laura hands the Sharpies over without protest.
Felicitas takes it and after a reassuring nod from you, goes over to the end of your bed, where your injured foot is propped up on a pillow.
Gingerly, Feli begins to draw.
She sticks her tongue out in concentration and everyone in the room can see your obvious heart eyes.
Kathy takes a photo subtly.
Felicitas finishes soon after, pressing a kiss onto your forehead before sitting back down at your side.
There’s a small grin on her face and you look at your cast to see a brown dog.
‘Is that meant to be Cinny?’
‘Yeah.’ Feli’s smile widens and you laugh.
‘Thank you.’
There’s a moment where it’s just the two of you in your little bubble before Tooney loudly says, ‘My turn now!’
******
As your fellow players continue to talk, you can see that your girlfriend is exhausted. She rests her head on top of her folded arms that are on your bed.
The dark circles under her eyes are worrying you.
You know she hasn’t slept since before the match so you decide that despite how well meaning your England teammates and Feli’s national teammates are, visiting hours for you are over.
It doesn’t take much convincing on your part. All you had to do was tell a half truth and say that you are tired.
Leah wrangles the English players out and Sara Doorsoun shepherds the German players out so that you’re left alone with your love.
Feli anxiously smooths loose strands of your hair out of your face.
‘You’re tired? Do you want to sleep more liebling?’
‘Only a little and I wouldn’t mind another nap but that’s not why I asked them to leave. I asked them to leave because you need to sleep.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes you. Now get in with me.’ You insist.
The hospital staff had informed you that you wouldn’t be discharged till later in the day so you could let your girlfriend get some rest first.
Felicitas hesitates, eyes flicking down to your injured foot. Your friends have seen to your cast, ensuring that it is now thoroughly decorated.
‘You won’t hurt me. There’s a pillow propping it up so I’ll be okay.’ You assure her, already shifting to the side of your hospital bed to make space for her.
It takes you lifting the covers and staring at her expectantly for her to tentatively settle down beside you.
‘I missed you.’ You mumble into her shoulder.
‘Ich liebe dich.’ Feli promises and you give a contented sigh once you bury your face into her neck.
Inhaling deeply, you begin leaving little kisses on her tanned skin.
Your girlfriend lets out a soft moan.
‘Liebling…now’s not the time or the place.’ She breathily says.
Drawing back slightly, you sheepishly mumble, ‘Sorry.’
Felicitas carefully scoots closer to you, so that your back is pressed against her.
She kisses your shoulder, pushing your hospital gown to the side so that she has access to a larger expanse of skin.
‘Feli this isn’t fair.’
Your voice is tight and it’s taking every ounce of your self control not to turn around and kiss her silly.
‘I thought you said that this isn’t the time or the place?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Your girlfriend apologises but you can feel her smile against your shoulder so you know that she isn’t sorry at all.
Felicitas presses another kiss onto your skin and you audibly groan, ‘My love you’re supposed to be sleeping.’
‘Soon. But first I need you to know.’
‘Know what?’
‘You win the bet. I’m yours.’
You smile, turning to face her with some difficulty.
Your girlfriend’s smile matches yours and you can’t resist tracing her dimple with your finger. It makes Feli smile wider.
‘I had a plan but it’s got to wait a while.’
‘What did you have in mind?’ Feli asks curiously.
You blush furiously and quietly admit, ‘I wanted to fuck you in the shower.’
Your girlfriend giggles.
‘Shower sex? Liebling, that's what you want?’
‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t feel like you owe me anything, especially sex.’ You quickly tell her.
‘Liebling no. I want to. I just- You didn’t have to make a bet to have sex with me. In the shower or anywhere else. It’s actually kind of hot.’ Feli murmurs.
She brushes a feather light kiss against your nose.
‘You’re really hot and I kinda sorta am always at least a little turned on by you.’ Your girlfriend happily confesses.
Your eyes widen and your blush that you don’t think can get any darker, does.
‘How about this? When your ankle heals, you can fuck me in the shower as many times as you’d like. But when we get back home, as your ankle is healing, I’ll give you the shower sex that you want.’
‘Really?’
‘I promise liebling.’
‘Okay. Now I’m really looking forward to getting home.’ You breathe.
‘Me too.’ Feli agrees.
You can’t resist kissing her affectionately.
Her eyes shine a little and you find yourself kissing her again, whispering against her lips, ‘Felicitas it wasn’t your fault okay? It was an accident.’
‘Okay.’ Feli quietly answers.
‘I mean it.’ You emphasise, wanting your girlfriend to know that she doesn’t have to blame herself.
She gives you a tiny nod in response, ‘I know you do.’
‘Are you gonna sleep okay? I’ll be here if you have nightmares…’
Your girlfriend exhales in surprise. There’s no way you could know that unless Sara had told you.
And her friend had.
When Feli had been distracted earlier, Sara had taken full advantage and confided in you that when she brought a change of clothes for your girlfriend, Feli had admitted that she could not sleep without hearing your scream of pain.
Her guilt ridden nightmares are the main reason for the dark circles under her eyes and you needed to help her see that she had absolutely no reason to feel guilty.
Feli takes your hand in hers, ‘I won’t. I know I didn’t mean to injure you and I know that you aren’t angry at me. It wasn’t my fault but I will definitely be working on my slide tackles from now on.’
‘Good.’ You whisper, giving her another kiss.
You try to pour all your love for her into it, needing her to know how much she means to you.
Felicitas must feel it because she sighs into your mouth, her entire body relaxing.
She wraps her strong arms around you, letting you find comfort in her embrace and in her effortless ability to make you feel safe.
And loved. So incredibly loved.
The painkillers have eased the throbbing pain in your injured ankle but it’s Feli’s presence that helps you get through the remaining ache.
Your girlfriend takes in a deep breath, soaking in the moment.
It’s brought to an end by her yawning loudly.
She tries to stifle it but fails, the resulting tinge of pink on her cheekbones making you giggle.
‘Love, get some sleep please.’ You instruct and Feli huffs a laugh, kissing your forehead protectively before finally, finally letting her eyes slip close.
******
If she spends the flight home thinking about how best to pin you against the bathroom wall and fuck you gently with her fingers, all while making sure that you keep your weight off your injured ankle and are in no danger of slipping, well she would just say that she’s being thorough with her preparation.
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German Translation:
liebling - love
ich liebe dich - i love you
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petday · 2 months
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whats little magic?
It is a puzzle game for the Super Famicom and Game Boy Color video game systems. I like the Game Boy Color game much more for its art direction, and it's also just more fun for me to play with the 'bubble magic' mechanic in that version. I wrote more about my enjoyment below, in case anyone is curious.
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The game’s box art is very beautiful, right? It caught my eye right away. The in-game 'cutscene' artwork appears to be carefully-made pixel art versions of the same artist's illustrations and they are similarly beautiful. (Sorry in advance if my photograph quality is not great.)
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But the actual levels themselves look very haphazard. Clashing colors and tiles. It's easy enough to guess that a blue tile next to a white tile represents water and snow, respectively, but what does the yellow cluster-of-boxes tile represent? Yellow bricks of a tower…? How about the spike-y objects in the snow-water levels? I guessed they were underwater mines, but then there's the same tile in a later level too, just palette-swapped to be red… The two monochrome tiles in the third picture above teleports your character, but it has a two-frame animation that made me think of an ‘industrial grinder’ and ‘static noise’, so I assumed it was dangerous at first. Was it intended to be nondescript ‘sparkly magic’? Where are all of these levels taking place, anyway? No other humans are in these areas, just various animals and vague environmental indicators. There are cute snakes in some ‘yellow brick’ levels that end your life upon touching them. Seems irresponsible for a teacher to allow her student into perilous areas, no matter how eager she is to pass her final exam at magic school and become a magician.
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Oh, I should explain the story. (None of the above photos are in sequence, just wanted to show more of the game.) The story is about a girl who attends magic school, and aims to pass a series of tests to become a full-fledged magician. Her teacher encourages her. The lack of explanation in the story is another fun point for me. Her magic teacher doesn't explain why 'learning magic' consists of pushing a heart into a heart-shaped hole that triggers a staircase to appear, which is what you need to do to complete each level. (It’s a beating heart – is it alive?) No explanation as to why snakes end your life instantly upon touching them. The context of 'because you want to pass your exams, a teacher is putting you through trials to help you become a master of magic’ isn’t an adequate explanation, because the teacher also tells you that she has not passed the final exam - why is a teacher putting a student through something that is too difficult even for herself? Who is in control of all of the strange areas you need to ‘complete’ in order to become a real magician, then? (After you complete the game with the student, you can play a different set of levels as the teacher, but even the usual sparse context-giving ‘cutscenes’ are not there… Mysterious…)
So, all of that is why my drawing about ‘Little Magic’ is about ‘confusion’, ‘going along with something that makes sense at first, but quickly unravels to not make sense any longer’, ‘growing distrust of authoritative figures’, and ‘frustration from stagnation.’ https://petday.tumblr.com/post/730315736066768896
Maybe the instruction booklet explains everything; I did not have access to that while playing, and I like that feeling. ‘Renting a game from a video game rental store that did not come with an instruction booklet, and being perplexed by it, forced to create your own context because you have nothing else’ feeling. Randomly selecting games to play that do not have much documentation online is enjoyable to me, because of that feeling.
A fan translation group translated the Game Boy Color game from Japanese to English in 2018. There wasn't a lot of dialogue in the first place, though. I like games where there is little to no dialogue because one can imagine a story/context besides what is shown. Up until 2022, I could not find a solution for the teacher’s final puzzle, so I interpreted the ending of the game’s story as, ‘The magic teacher thought she could harness a type of magic far stronger than what she could handle, accidentally designed an impossible puzzle for herself and is trapped for eternity.’ Of course, the puzzle has a solution, but I wanted to honour my strange interpretation regardless. When I play games and have weird interpretations of them, I am definitely not saying, 'I bet this is what the people who worked on this game were thinking!' I dislike that attitude. It's just imaginative interpretation, and working with the odd way I interact with things in order to maximize fun for myself…
A part about old games that I also love, is that they can never be updated; they had one chance to release a finished game, and maybe another chance to fix glitches in a re-release if they sold very many copies the first time. I greatly enjoyed the ‘imperfect’ tilesets and abrupt feeling of this game, which might have been ‘improved’ in a patch if it had been released in recent years instead of 1999.
(I wasn’t sure where to include this point, but I must also say, my favourite YouTube comments are about someone’s unusual interpretations of a game, when they did not have access to a guide at the time. I read one recently – the comment author and their brother rented ‘Final Fantasy IV’ from a rental store, and they did not know about the ‘Poison’ status effect that depletes the characters health. There is a strange pixelation effect and a ringing sound when you walk around the overworld while poisoned. Because the save file they were playing from was during a point of the game where you visit the moon, and because of the unfamiliar visual and sound effect, they interpreted the ‘Poison’ status effect as, “The moon must be running out of air.” Things like that are beautiful to me.)
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(I also wasn’t sure where to put this point, but the main character, May, from ‘Little Magic’, is stylized differently in some ‘cutscenes’. She resembles a dragon to me. It’s cute.)
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Request-ish for great 7 au if you dont mind, but what kinds of pictures do you think the g7 keep of yuu? Whether in like a photo book or their wallet or whatever? (Also if you dont mind maybe what their favorite photo of yuu is as well?) Love your writing have a good day!
A Picture of Yuu
Trying to ease myself back into writing and decided to try this out as a semi request! Gn yuu per usual, minot spoilers for ch 2— This is based of my Great 7 fic Unit:Yuu!
Notes: I do not know what kind of Arab Jafar is Aba/Baba for him, please let me know if this incorrect—
Queen of Hearts + Jabberwock
The Queen of Hearts has always been a zany one to say what photo she has of you that she adores on any given day would be difficult. In short, she loves them all!
It is such a shame that instant photography wasn't a thing back in her era, she would have taken so many photos of herself and Wonderland and she would have loved to show you all of them, it would certainly save the Jabberwock from having to explain so much.
The Queen watches you from afar as she drifts into her own thoughts. How she would have loved to take you into Wonderland with her and have your portraits done together.
Perhaps you could take your camera with you and you both can record all the memories you make together? How fitting would it have been to have photos of you in your wackiest poses and outfits up on the walls without having to get each one painstakingly painted?
She watches you rest the Jabberwocks head on her lap, and a smile graces her face at the sight of her little Rose with her greatest warrior. Should she still have her kingdom, she would have barked orders for the royal painter immediately.
Perhaps she doesn't have a favorite photo or picture of you because it hasn't made it yet, and as you take a photo of you and her with the Jabberwock all together (a photo you will undoubtedly hide from Crowley), she realizes she would never be able to find a favorite, as all she wants to now is to keep taking more.
Scar + The Hyenas
Scar has seen Rafiki's artwork before, and he was never impressed by the crude cave paintings he made, especially the ones that represented him.
If Rafiki were to have made one of you, however... he wouldn't know how to feel.
Even then, he much prefers these cameras and their strange instant paintings, after all he has never looked better in them! They really catch his good side!
Scar would huff in faux uninterest when he sees you pointing the camera around and taking photos of those three idiot hyenas around Ramshackle. And when you take photos of him he certainly doesn't strike a pose on purpose! (He snarls at Ed who even thinks about mentioning the idea.)
Still even as you show all of the photos you took, even of the ones of you, the hyenas, and him, it can never compare to the old "photo" of you and him together that he keeps hidden.
Cub is what he called you. To him, you were one. He was teaching you how to hunt with those Hyenas, how to sneak up on your prey and attack, and your victorious smile as you helped them take down a gazelle.
He remembered his muddy paws dragging across stony ground as Banzai carried the gazelle carcass with him, the group of hunters having to take it to the fire so you can eat.
Scar noticed how you suddenly stopped in your tracks and stared down at the ground. Annoyed, Scar huffed telling you to hurry up, and when you went on your knees and poked at the ground below you he snarled and circled back to you
That was when he noticed you were staring at his paw print in part of the ground. Your child self seemed to glow when you saw it, and you took your own muddy and bloodied hand and put it right over his print as if comparing sizes. When you took it away, he saw your small handprint right on his.
He may have actually have had a soft moment with you then and there if it wasn't for the hyena's prodding. Upon seeing the hand and paw print, Ed immediately remarked on how he wanted to do that too, and put his own next to yours, then Shenzi and Banzai, ever competitive, started arguing about doing the same, shoving each other out of the way to put their paw down as well.
In the end, all of your prints were together in a way that oddly resembled Rafiki's dribble. "Are you all satisfied now?" He huffed, snarling, "Now go! All of you!" He barked making the hyenas walk off and you follow. As you all walked off he tore up that part of the stone from the ground and carried it in his mouth, following the cackle closely behind with it.
He despised the way some child managed to worm his way into his heart and yet here is years later with you all grown up, and he still has the stone tablet hidden away for his eyes only. He refuses to let you see how soft he has gotten for you.
Shenzi definitely knows of it and tells you about his secret, prompting Scar to try and kill her.
Ursula + The Eels
Oh dear, now that's a question all right.
If it was up to her and she was able to have had you down in Atlantica, she would have hung so many paintings of you and her poopsies on her grotto walls, your chubby baby self was adorable, you know?
She often has fleeting thoughts of being the one to have brought you up under the sea. Just her a single mom and her three kids as her accomplice in villainy. How she would teach you how to brew the most powerful potions and run a good business...
Even now, she watches the curious glint in your eyes as you explore NRC and takes photos of everything, she's happy you have started to discover who you are.
You naturally take a lot of photos of her new makeup looks, along with your eel brothers wearing matching drag with you. She loves to pick up the Polaroids and commits them to memory, swiping her thumb over herself along with her children's faces lovingly.
It was during one of your weekly drag/makeup nights together. You had on some dramatic trashy show in the background as you all talked and did makeup. You kept one of your eyes closed ad Flotsam hangs on your neck like a scarf, using his tail to hold a brush and dab on eyeshadow while you work on Jetsam's eyebrows. Ursula smiled at the sight of her children bonding.
The peace didn't last long, as you made a particularly shady remark about that crow bastard causing Flotsam to cackle and squeeze you slightly, and Jetsam to slap you fave lightly with his tail.
As the Sibling Codex states, you all now must duel in a free for all and allow no survivors. There are no rules to uphold any honor.
Standing up, you pried Flotsam's body making him loosen the grip around your neck, and flung up the arm that Jetsam was anchored on.
Comically, the dangling eel slapped the camera sitting on the coffee table up from where it was and snap a photo.
"Jetsam! I swear if the camera is broken—" "Hey you're the one that flung me!"
Picking up the camera and looking it over you let out a breath of relief before checking out the film that came out
"Come here dear let me see..." Urusla spoke as you walked over.
Though slightly blurry, the photo featured all of you. You had a bright smile on your features as did your siblings who were smushed into you as fashionable accessories. In the background, Ursula sat elegantly admiring her children. And though she wasn't the center of the photo, she loved to see her children happy.
Were she were back in her grotto, this photo would have been displayed as one of her most prized possessions.
Jafar + Iago
It wasn't often he dreamt, but when he did, he dreamed big. He was Sultan of the Sands and the most powerful sorcerer of all with you as his heir by his side. Sure, Iago would be there too he supposes...
He would rule with an iron fist and bring about a Golden Age for his kingdom while tutoring you on the side, teaching you laws and ideals and the most powerful spells he knows. There would be all sorts of depictions of the two of you, mosaics, tapestries, poems, paintings, and perhaps even a few statues as well.
You would both be depicted as you should: powerful and intelligent... and Iagos there too he guesses...
So imagine his surprise when his favorite photo isn't a pretentious one at all.
When you first got your camera, he took pride in being photographed and always posed his very best, he wouldn't stand for any unsightly photos you may try to take. He would stand tall with Iago on his shoulder and staff in hand, evil and powerful. He would hate to be depicted as anything less.
As you set up the ghost camera on the stand, you start to take a few experimental photos as well as test out the timer function on it. Honesty it was thanks to Jafar it worked, his intuition and knowledge of technology were always remarkable.
"Any more trouble from that device, Yuu?" Jafar's voice snaps you out of focus as you turn to him standing in the common room, Iago perched where he usually was. "Nope not anymore, thank you Baba" you smile as you check out the camera again.
"Want to try and take a photo with me to test it out?" "If you mean one of those 'selfies' I will have to refuse!" "No, no, not like that I promise!"
Arching a brow and heaving a sigh Jafar relents. You get to work setting up the camera before running over to pose with them. You watched as the timer counted down... 4...3...2...
Suddenly, you throw yourself into Jafar in a deep hug as Iago squawks indignantly. The flash goes off. Sputtering for a moment as he takes a moment to adjust himself, he huffs. "What was the meaning of that Diamond?" Jafar snaps as he shoots you a glare. "Yeah that's the big deal?!" Iago cawed.
You smirked as you snagged the Polaroid out of the camera and aired it out with a few shakes before showing the pair.
The photo showed you pulling Jafar closer to you, holding onto and nuzzling into him dearly like a toddler would do their mother. He actually wore the slightest smile in the photo. Iago's wings were spread and for once he looked like the lively bird he was and not some villainous lackey.
"I have a lot of photos of Jafar and Iago, but none of my baba and my friend" You muttered holding the photo close to you. "But now I do, and don't worry it's for my eyes only... I would hate to ruin your image.
Jafar shuts his eyes for a moment, perhaps he was unintentionally and unknowingly strict. "No no, retake the photo, little one." He says as he holds your shoulder. "Let's take another photo as a family this time."
Jafar and Iago both sat on the rickety couch of Ramshackle as you set up the camera again before running back and sitting next to them. Iago hopped into your lap as you hugged the vizier. Jafar looked down at you both lovingly before wrapping his arms around you gently, allowing the camera to snap, and like that, his favorite photo of you was made.
Queen Grimhilde + The Raven
Ever since staying in Ramshackle, the Evil Queen would dream about being back home in her palace. She would walk down the halls of rooms and for a moment pretend the floors were stone and echoed with her steps and not creak under her weight. The walls were to be lined with intricate decor and tapestries along with art, and as she walks into your room to look at the mirror, she imagines it's her vanity where she would admire herself.
Raven stood on her shoulder preening her and she shut her eyes imagining the glory days when she ruled but this time she imagines herself with you at her side.
How you would sit on the stool in front of her vanity and look at yourself in the mirror as she clasps a necklace onto you after she finished dressing you up. How you would walk beside her amongst the guards and servants as she enters the throne room which used to have a lone throne but now has two.
How you would both sit regally as she deals with nobles and teach you how to rule with an iron fist and to be your worst possible self. How she would take you to her garden and poisons and teach you how to grow and use each one, later taking you into her study to practice your potionology.
You deserved much better than this place in her eyes, and once she gets her body back she will ensure you both rise to power once again. Even if you are currently living in a... less than ideal situation she will have you carry yourself with the same level of respect and pride she feels like you should have.
She shows you which plants can be used for hair and skin and makeup. She shows you how to embroider your clothes and sew. She shows you proper manners for everything as well— no child of hers will be taken for a slob. Your elegance hides your wild side and villainous upbringing well, only showing it to those who are worthy.
Her ghost sits across from you in the guest room, a glass of tea poured out for her in her honor though she can't drink from it. You finish up your latest piece as you push the needle through a few more times. Letting out a breath of relief, you tuck away the needle and hold out the new dress shirt you made in your preferred style. "Good work," she says approvingly as the Raven lets out a squawk, and you both continue to chat about your day.
The next day, you put on the shirt you worked so hard on, slipping on the right pants, shoes, and homemade accessories to match. Today, your mother decides to help you put on some light makeup, her ghost guiding your hands to apply foundation.
She then helps you put on your accessories and she is reminded of the fantasy she had the other day. "Thank you, Mama." You say smiling. "I guess this is my first official... complete outfit..." You didn't any decent clothes to start with since coming here, and even when you wore nicer things, you could never truly make it your own, you couldn't have your own style. Yet in the mirror you see all of your hard work put into sewing and saving, creating an outfit from your mother's love.
You look at yourself in the hand mirror you own as the Queen holds your face lovingly. "Shall we take a photo to commemorate the occasion?" You ask, smiling. "Ah yes, that ghost camera of yours can see me, can't it?"
You nod and begin to set the camera up. The Queen never cared for the photos it took, preferring the status symbol of oil paintings in her castle. As you stood next, she helped to pose you at the perfect angle, adjusting your posture and such as she stood beside you, hand on your head.
The photo came out, and it was as perfect as she would imagine it to be. Admiring it, she thinks back to getting her power again and her castle back, and for some reason, the first thing she imagines doing is to recreate this portrait with you, this time in paint, and the highest quality clothes you want.
Hades + Pain & Panic
His favorite photo of you? One where you look your best, one where you look powerful and strong and— oh wait his favorite photo of you?
When Hades found out the ghost camera can register him, he and his imps were over the moon. You best believe you had to make him look cool. (You gave in because Hades was never given the same respectable portraits compared to his family).
Every photo of him portraying him positively... touched my heart. He wasn't the unwanted brother or the laughing stock, outcasted and forgotten. He was Hades, God of the Underworld.
The imps also loved any photos of them taken positively, but they also didn't mind the funny ones too. Honestly, these two were absolute menaces with the camera, often stealing it and taking the worst photos of you.
Though you have some photos of yourself, or with your friends, none of them ever truly called out to Hades. He would simply see some as neat or use photos to lovingly bully you. Yet when he thought about it, all of his siblings seemed to always have some sort of art piece representing their children, he remembers Zeus and his insane amount of photos of his brat when he was born after all. He can't help but sort of desire one... but what?
For a good, while he can't help but look at all the photos you take and pay special attention to the ones that you were in— you best believe that if you have a photo with one of your friends he's gonna tease you for your "boyfriend".
As he goes through them he tries to find one that feels like it shows off his kid well, yet he can't. You look good in all of your photos, but you didn't feel like you. That's the one thing he's noticed since coming here. You couldn’t be your true self, you weren't allowed to bare your teeth and be truly free the way you should be.
Hades actually stews on this for a while silently, Pain and Panic bother him about it much to his chagrin. As the days went by Hades seemed to get more and more and more annoyed by your environment sucking the life out of you. Homework was annoying, Ramshackle sucked, and that damned crow bastard keeps dumping responsibility onto you! How is his kiddo supposed to shine like this?!
Recently, Crowley dumped another annoying task onto you— something stupid about looking into clumsy kids. You hated it but got Pain and Panic ready to help you as you went about interviewing victims and such. It was rotten work.
Maleficent + Diaval
Eventually, with your idiot squad, things picked up, and you came up with the idea of catching the perpetrator with your camera, as Crowley states he needs evidence. One thing led to another. Here we are in the Savanahclaw Dorm, facing the lion down face to face. Pain and Panic stood on either side of you as you stood your ground, stance widening to prepare for a fight.
And fight you did. Hades watched in absolute awe as you fought against the blot, rolling and sliding past attacks while seizing any opportunity to get a hit or to create an opening for your friends. Pain and Panic both helped, occasionally lashing at Leona to throw off his aim or providing your some healing and shielding with their shapeshifting abilities.
As the dust settled, and the sun rose higher in the sky, your silhouette stood amongst the rubble as you panted, fists still clenched. You had a powerful aura around you along with a steely gaze as you stared down at the lion beneath you. Panic suddenly pops up, ghost camera in hand as he snaps a photo. "How's that for proof?" he snickers alongside Pain as you finally relax.
The photo standing over your opponent had exactly what the other photos of you lacked. There was a fire in your eyes, a confident stance, and though dirt-covered and sweaty, you were unapologetically you in the moment. Not to mention badass.
Yet that wasn't the only reason Hades adored it. The image reminded of him Zeus' brat he despised. How that damned Hercules would be painted and shown off everywhere as a legend with his powerful stance, often standing over the slain monsters that Hades meticulously put together to defeat him.
And yet... here you were: A mirror image of him, a perfect foil. And unlike Hercules, you were still here and so was he. That brat failed to kill him. Through his child, he has won... Ha! Take that, Zeus! Just wait for round 2! This time, he won't fail.
Maleficent is also one who doesn't understand newer technology. She simply can't wrap her head around a device that makes portraits instantly without magic. After a bit of explanation from Diaval (who still doesn't know much), she simply accepts it.
Like Grimhilde, the Fae much prefers painted portraits, and often finds herself imagining how you would look in one every time she sees one of your "selfies".
The Fae Queen finds it endearing that you want to take photos of her and your dear uncle Diaval, trying your best to make some good memories in this miserable place. Even on your nightly walks together, you bring your camera with you to photograph the wildlife around you.
Seeing your features light up just by seeing the smallest bug makes her feel a strange sense of pride as if this proves you belong to her and the forest of the fae. She's glad to know that enjoys nature just as much as her.
Passing by a small pond, the three of you pause for a moment. Diaval, in his crow form, is happily perched onto your shoulder, nuzzling and preening you as you give him a few scratches and look up to the night sky above you. As your eyes reflect the stars, Maleficent is reminded of a fond memory.
You were a child at the time, to be honest, she couldn't tell you how old you were, at her age, all children start looking the same.
The fae was coming to terms with being a ghost— a ghost stuck inside a child no less— and she certainly did not appreciate it. How could such a pudgy and idiotic vessel possibly be worthy of the Mistress of All Evil?
She would sneer at the idea of growing attached to you. Even as your child self waved and smiles at her, she snarled in response, baring her fangs at you. To her surprise, you merely giggled. She wasn't amused.
No matter how many times she snapped and told you to go away, or order Diaval to distract you, you would always come back to her eventually. She just didn't get it, why do you like her so much?! Under the guise of not wasting her breath or energy, she stopped trying to distance herself from you, allowing your small baby hands to play with her cloak or touch her horns. You were a curious little beastie, weren't you?
She remembers watching you grow up little by little, watching your kid self play with Diaval as a crow and give each other affection, how she cast protection spells on you as you ran through the forest barefoot, cursing any sharp stones you may step on.
She remembers guiding you as you picked berries and copied the animals you saw. She remembers singing you lullabies and telling you stories of her home, hoping she could take you to it. Her warnings about trusting men.
She remembers how unequivocally she fell for the child that melted her heart, and how she assigned Diaval to you, making him promise to always watch out for you and to serve you as he did her.
And she especially remembers how you approached her with a scribbled-on, crumpled sheet of paper. You babbled as you held up the piece to her. Kneeling down with her usual stern expression, she examined the scribbles closer.
Crude lines depicted an all-black horned figure holding a staff in one hand, hand awkwardly stretched out to touch hands with the tiny figure in the middle. An attempt at a blackbird was drawn in the other outstretched hand of the child, its best open in a caw. All of the figures had clumsy smiles. Arrows pointed to all of the figures labeled 'Me' 'Malycent' and 'Diovl'
Diaval perched on Maleficent's shoulder, getting the best look he could before swooping in and nuzzling your kid self. As you laughed and giggled Maleficent allowed a small smile to grace her features as she watches you play.
To this day, she still has the piece of paper in her cloak, enchanted with the strongest protection spell she could do in her current state. In her mind, no other portrait than the one you drew could ever compare.
Perhaps one day when she rules from her thorny castle, she will have this art piece framed in her study, for her eyes only.
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tanadrin · 11 days
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What’s the case for an upper and lower chamber?
In my opinion, none.
The historical situation is that the upper chamber had more power and the lower was a sop to the common folk and petty nobility: this is why the House of Commons was formed (originally from knights of the shire and the representatives of cities that had been granted special rights by the Crown), and only later, after a very long process of constitutional evolution in Britain, did the Lords transform into a consultative body that was adjunct to the Commons, where the real power lay. For a while, even after you started to have something that looked like modern government in Britain, you still frequently had PMs drawn from the Lords--and still could, in theory, except that the convention is they come from the Commons.
In the U.S. example, the goal was simply to split the difference between a popular chamber (the House) and a chamber representing state governments (the Senate, whose members could be chosen by any method provided for under state law, but originally were usually chosen by state legislatures). This is because the people who drafted the U.S. constitution hated and were suspicious of popular democracy, because they were rich landowners and slaveholders whose positions were untenable in the long run if everyone in the country could vote and was equally represented.
Obviously they didn't put it like that--they spoke of the hotheaded hoi polloi, the changeable will of the people--but they were massive Romeaboos, and all the populist leaders who whittled away at the Roman republic managed to do so because they were willing to centralize power, to take it away from the baronial elite of the Republic, and to use that power in service of people further down the org chart. In service of themselves too, of course--these were not altruists--but it was the particularly Roman instantiation of the crown-vs-barons struggle, where the common folk usually side with the Crown, because the barons are bastards who abuse them directly.
(Very many "tyrants" in history were "tyrants" only in that they gave a raw deal to the barons in their particular social order, and very many events which we now describe as movements toward a more equitable distribution of power were in fact a very shitty deal for the majority of the population--the peasants--because it gave the barons even more license to abuse their serfs.)
And the American founders knew all this, and they were all barons, and they didn't like the idea of a federal government that was too effective, so they sprinkled it with veto points and also totally failed to anticipate the rise of modern political parties. (Which weren't exactly what they had in mind when they warned against factionalism--that was more about sectional interests. But still, they did totally fail to anticipate how this system would work as party politics developed.)
In a system of democratic government like the U.S. has now, where it is widely acknowledged the rule should be "one adult citizen never convicted of a felony who can get the day off work to stand in line and has a photo ID = one vote" the U.S. Senate is an inexcusable anachronism. Indeed, the Supreme Court has ruled that state senates modeled on the exact same principle as the U.S. senate (say, one county one senator, as the constitution of my home state Tennessee has it) are unconstitutional, because they violate the equal protection clause.
More recently, many countries have approached the idea of an upper chamber as a sort of "chamber of experts" meant to review and advise on legislation. This kind of makes sense in theory, I guess, but if voters want subject-matter experts to make policy, they can vote them in; in practice, any system of appointment or ex officio qualification is going to select for political lackeys without democratic mandates, and it's also just a bad idea to have people with significant power over the legislative process who do not have democratic accountability. The problem of creating legislation is never that we don't have enough smart people willing to offer their opinions; the problem is brokering functional compromises between interest groups and resolving incentives that push the process toward dysfunctional outcomes, which isn't really something you can fix just by fiddling with the composition of your upper house.
So in most modern parliamentary democracies, upper houses are reduced in power. Either they can't veto bills permanently (Lords), they can't originate money bills (Lords again), they only have input on certain matters (German Bundesrat), they're full of government appointees to ensure the government always has a majority in them (Irish Seanad), or the lower house can overrule them on most matters (Japanese House of Councillors). And the reason why is obvious: if your democratic mandate comes from the lower house, if that's where your government is being formed in a parliamentary system, if the whole principle of government is meant to be collective self-rule by the body of citizens, an upper house that is a check on that power is either definitionally redundant or a brake on democracy.
There are ways to ensure that a lower house is both representative and does not devolve into factional chaos. Proportional representation, four-year terms, constructive motions of no confidence (again, parliamentary systems only), etc. Plenty of countries and subnational entities have unicameral legislatures and are perfectly stable: Sweden, Norway, the Baltics, Portugal, Mongolia, South Korea, Peru [ok bad example nvm], all the states of Germany, all the provinces of Canada, most of the provinces of Argentina, Queensland, the vast majority of the states of India, and the three devolved legislatures in the United Kingdom.
Therefore in my opinion there is no good democratic case for an upper house. And all the undemocratic reasons why you'd want one are bad. Too much democracy is, in fact, a very rare problem for systems of government to have!
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melminli · 6 months
Text
cats and colors
summery: you talk about how black & white reminds you of satoru and suguru
contains: gn reader, no pronouns mentioned, non curse au, satosugu talk, fluff/crack, satoru being in love with reader a bit, kinda weird ending but really funny
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"aww." you exclaimed when you saw two cats playing with each other on the sidewalk. guess it was worth it after all to wait outside on a bench while satoru was withdrawing some money. you nudged geto with your elbow to get him to turn his attention away from his phone. "look. it's you and satoru." you said, pointing to the two animals with a small smile on your face.
he looked a little confused for a second until his gaze went to your finger and saw the scene in front of him. "this again? is it really just because one is black and the other is white?" he asked, not really understanding the concept behind it. he really wanted to, though.
you always spoke up when you saw the two opposite colors together, just to say how it reminded you of them. they usually got it through messages you sent in the group chat, like just a while ago when you sent them a photo of just two side by side chairs in ikea with the caption reminded me of you guys.
you nodded. "yeah. why?"
geto just shrugged his shoulders. "i don't know. i guess i just don't think our hair color is the crucial factor that represents us as you know us and like as friends." he laughed out, making up this little theory. he stopped laughing once he noticed your completely serious expression.
"oh, please. you think i'm a beginner?" you asked a little offended. "it's so much more than just your dumb hair." you began waving your hands in the air as you made your impassioned declaration. "these colors represent you so beautifully because they're opposites who still go perfect with each other, like ying and yang for example. Satoru is hot-tempered and extroverted, which is usually more associated with something light, while you have a more introverted and quiet nature, which is more associated with something darker." you took both your hands and put them together to demonstrate. "like two puzzle pieces... but on second thought, your hair colors also play a bit into that, i guess."
his mouth just opened slightly at what you said since he didn't necessarily know how to respond to that. "that's very perceptive on your part. i'm kind of impressed - a bit scared - but uhm, mostly impressed." he admitted.
"i can't believe they don't accept credit cards in that place. i mean, who carries cash around these days." satoru interrupted you two a bit annoyed because of the fact that he had to go to the bank. he then spotted out of the corner of his eye the two cats that were still playing around with each other, and his mood lifted again as he watched the two. "aww, how cute." he stated and took out his cell phone to take some pictures.
"they're you and me." geto said and looked at you afterward. when satoru heard that, he knew exactly what he was referencing with that. "if the black cat is geto and the white one is me, then you would be a...birmen cat!" he decided, placing two question marks over both of your heads. this statement had little to do with your previous profound explanation.
"...birmen cat?" you repeated, not quite sure what that meant exactly. you were also having trouble deciphering what such a cat looked like, to be honest.
satoru just nodded while looking at you a bit dreamy. "i love birmen cats. they're my favorite."
his best friend laughed slightly at that and looked over at you to see if you could read the meaning between the lines. unfortunatly for his best friend, it didn't look like it since you still seemed to be thinking what a fucking birmin cat had to do with your color theory. "...that's cute i guess?" you said in the end and were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a loud meowing out of nowhere.
geto quickly spoke up with a stern tone before anyone could say anything. "i'm not going to listen to any theories or sick jokes about this." he said, deeply regretting his previous saying.
three pairs of eyes turned to the two cats who had previously been playing sweetly with each other. the two were now busy with something else entirely as the white cat mounted the black one from behind to...perform certain activities.
oh.
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pimosworld · 9 months
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Tango
Pairing-Frankie Morales x f!reader
Summary-It only takes a little push for you and Frankie to stop dancing around each other.
CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW,Smut, horrible date, tf boys being protective, cursing,angst,comfort, fingering, unprotected piv,cream pie,soft-dom Frankie,sweet aftercare. Reader is not race coded and photo does not represent reader.
WK-4k
A/N-I wrote this as a procrastination for my actual wips. Please enjoy my obsession with the tf boys being protective and as always hints of fishben.
Not beta read
————-
The bar is dark save for the few flashing lights of the music from the DJ booth. The thick humid air makes it hard to breathe as you belt out your favorite song while grinding on Santis flavor of the week. 
  It always went this way, you’d be the perfect wing woman for him, dancing with some person until you got tired and Santi would swoop in to take your place, and for a night or a few weeks you’d have a friend to accompany you on the dance floor while the boys nursed their beers. 
  You’ve been seeing this guy James casually for a few weeks that you met out one night on your own, but he wasn’t going to stop you from your weekly ritual of dancing out the stresses of your daily life. The guys seemed to tolerate him enough to invite him out, which is how you found yourself on the dance floor with ‘Francesca’ as they sat in the booth trying to look impressed with whatever your date was saying. 
  Pope was a Tom cat and had no issues picking up people but in his words ‘I love to watch you work your magic’. You couldn’t lie, it was exhilarating to be wanted by anyone. It’s not just a sexual attraction, it’s a rush when you can connect with someone on a different level. Inevitably once you introduced them to Santiago they would fall immediately but not before inviting you to join which you were adamant about not crossing that line with him-for now. 
  “She’s something else.” The sarcasm in his tone is completely lost on Frankie as he watches you and Santi’s soon to be hookup captivate the dance floor. 
  He can see it in their eyes, the way you make people feel like they're the only ones in the room with you. He thinks you’ve looked at him that way but he can’t be sure he wasn’t just seeing things. 
  “Ya she is.” It was supposed to be spoken in his head but evidently he said it out loud.
  Will shoots him a look but your date hardly notices the way he said it with such longing in his voice. He knows, they all know that Frankie has loved you forever. It seems the only one oblivious to this is you. 
  “I mean it’s hot if she’s not your girlfriend but if she is…” Suddenly all attention is on him and he doesn’t even notice. The tension starts to rise at the table like lions ready to pounce and he’s the innocent prey none the wiser. 
  “If she is then…what?” Will speaks first, the stoic one usually wanting to avoid confrontation for fear of losing his temper, except when it comes to you. 
  “Come on, you don’t mean to tell me you’d be ok with the way she’s acting in public if she was your girlfriend?” 
  “Did I miss something?” Ben turns to face James, seated conveniently next to him and Will subtly grabs his arm giving a light squeeze as a warning. This guy is not worth it. 
  “She’s just dancing right?” He looks around the table as Will scrubs his face with his hands and Santi is too enraptured with you and Francesca on the dance floor to notice Frankie’s hard set jaw and crossed arms staring daggers at your date.
  “Ya she’s dancing…she’s almost exposed half the room to her ass and it looks like they’re going to fuck right there on the dance floor.” Santi finally looks over at him tearing his eyes away from you and then to Frankie with a sly grin on his face. 
  “This pendejo got a problem?” 
  “No problem man,I just don’t know how comfortable you’d be with your girl acting like that.” Frankie digs his nails into his palm, sure to draw blood as he fights the urge to lunge across the table and teach this guy how to talk about women. 
  “If you’re upset about it you should definitely say somethin’.” The guys all turn to Will, mischievous grins on their face knowing what a massacre he was walking into. 
  You direct your gaze to the table completely oblivious to the conversation happening about you as Frankie smiles. His deep brown eyes look at you as if you’re the only one in the room. His signature cap turned backwards, encasing his curls. You’re locked in a trance almost forgetting about your date who you’ve left alone for quite some time with them. The guy wouldn’t even be here if you thought there was a chance with Frankie. 
  Most days you push those thoughts away, he was your best friend and if he wanted to be anything more he would make a move. 
  You grab Francesca’s hand to lead her over to the table, it is definitely time for a break and perhaps another drink while you rejoin Santi and the guys.
  ——
“You boys thirsty cause I am?” Will nudges Benny to move so he can slide out of the booth.
  “Next rounds on me sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead as he heads to the bar.
  You sit beside Frankie and you’re acutely aware of the dull ache in your feet, you groan as you rub your heel under the table. 
  “I take it you’re not joining us on the dance floor.” 
  “No Santiago, you go have fun.” Frankie resists the urge to rest his arm on the seat behind you as he always does when you’re next to each other. 
  Santi and Francesca head to the dance floor as you lean into Frankie momentarily forgetting your date.
   “It’s probably best if you take a break from embarrassing yourself anyway.” It feels like all the air has left your lungs as you glance over at your date in utter shock. 
  Benny gets a look in his eye you’ve never seen before as he leans across the table coming face to face with him. “I think the only one embarrassing themselves is you.” 
  James looks over at you now fully curled into Frankie’s side, his arm now draped across your shoulder with a gentle grip letting you know he’s there if you need him. 
  “Oh I see what’s happening here.” He gestures between the two of you and Ben. “Do you guys take turns or how does that work?” 
  Before you can blink Benny has his collar curled up in his fists as he pulls him out of the booth. 
  Will ditches the drinks at the bar to run over and grab Ben before you’re all kicked out. 
  “I was gone for two seconds, what happened?” Ben releases his collar shoving him into the table as Will stands between the two. 
  “Ben was just giving him a lesson in how to talk to women.” Frankie’s calm tone is a stark contrast to the feral look in his eyes as he stares him down just waiting for him to say something stupid again. 
  He hasn’t released his grip on you and you’ve all but melted into his embrace as you try not to focus on his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder as the other picks nervously at the label on his beer. 
  “I’m out of here, you guys can have her.” He brushes past Will, not bothering to look in your direction. In true coward form he calls over his shoulder just far enough away from Benny. “She doesn’t put out anyway.” 
  “Fucking jackass.” They all turn to you as you’ve seemed to have found your voice again. 
  “Don’t worry about guys like that hermosa, they don’t deserve you.” His eyes have softened again as he looks at you, there’s a pull that you can’t resist forming between the two of you and you don’t want to fight it anymore. 
  He’s not sure if you're aware or if you were subconsciously rubbing your hand along his thigh to calm yourself. It’s having the opposite effect on him as a slow burning heat builds in his stomach, you’re inching your hand further and further and his cock twitches as his body betrays him. You take in a sharp inhale and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to suppress the groan threatening to spill out. 
  Will clears his throat getting your attention again as you glance at Benny with a wide grin on his face practically bouncing on his feet from the adrenaline. 
  “I’m gonna grab those drinks I left before I had to wrangle rocky over here.” 
  Ben slides in next to you caging you in against Frankie, personal space was not the boy's strong suit. 
  “Thank you.” He looks down at you with those big blue eyes. 
  “What are you thanking me for, sweetheart?” 
  “For defending my honor of course.” Frankie’s laugh reverberates through your body filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling. 
  “Don’t thank him, he loves doing shit like that.” Benny flips him off as Will returns to the table with the drinks, Santi and his date walk up still catching their breath from dancing. 
  “Fish should be thanking me for getting rid of him.”
  “Ben.” Will's warning has him throwing his hands up in mock surrender. You almost miss the look Frankie sends him, a silent conversation between the two that looked as close to thank you as it could get. 
  “For the record I do put out, he was just having some performance issues.” Santis eyes go wide at the comment as the rest of the table erupts in laughter. 
  “I definitely missed something cariño.”
  “Nothing much just Ben taking out the trash.” He finally notices your absent date and your close proximity to Frankie and claps his brother on the shoulder. 
  “Finally you two idiotas can stop dancing around each other.” Heat creeps up your neck at the thought of your crush being more obvious than you previously knew. 
  It relaxes you a little to see the redness on Frankie’s face as he’s been outed as well. He doesn’t deny it and that sends a rush of confidence through your body. 
  “I would never trust a man who didn’t like the sight of two beautiful women dancing with each other.” He looks at his date and she practically has hearts in her eyes for him. Some may say he laid in on a little thick but they fell for it every time. 
  Frankie adjusts again and your hand brushes against the bulge straining on his jeans. You give a light squeeze to test the waters and he leans down close to your ear. “You’re killing me right now, I hope you know that.”
  “Do you want to get out of here?” He nods at you and drops his arm from your shoulder to grab your hand to help you out of the booth. 
  “Where are you two going?” Benny looks like a wounded puppy as his brother leans back crossing his arms smiling sweetly at the two of you. 
  “My feet are killing me, Frankie’s gonna take me home.” Decent enough excuse not that it mattered, they all knew where you were going. 
  “You’re leaving without me?” 
  “Ben!” Santi and Will say in unison and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his incessant teasing. 
  “Maybe next time Ben.” Frankie shoots you a look as you shrug your shoulders. “He thought you two were sharing me anyway.” 
  “Ok I definitely missed something.” Santi and his date slide into your unoccupied seats as you and Frankie say your goodbyes. 
  You’re buzzing with nervous excitement as you walk through the bar hand in hand. He’s keeping you so close, a constant reminder of his protective nature.
  You’ve almost made it to the door before a large hand pulls you back slightly startling you. Frankie turns to see Ben holding your other hand placing a kiss on top.
  “I’m holding you to what you said.” You roll your eyes as you look up at Frankie whose patience is wearing painfully thin. 
  “Good night Benjamin.” He says through gritted teeth as he pulls you outside. You both laugh as you jog to his truck to try and make a break for it before he comes back for more. 
  He opens the door for you as he’s done a thousand times, you lift yourself up into the seat and before you can grab it he’s already buckling you in. He hesitantly pulls back as his hand brushes along your thigh. You instinctively close your legs but his hand gently pries them open as he runs his fingers higher under the hem of your dress. 
  His eyes haven’t left yours as he waits for you to tell him to stop but you don’t. Your chest is rising and falling and the slow drag of anticipation is building the heat in your core. You don’t care that you’re still in the parking lot as he touches his fingers to your soaked center. 
  He silences the soft whimper leaving your lips as he crashes his into yours. You swallow a groan as you bite down softly on his bottom lip. 
  “Are you this wet for me?” You nod against his lips as he moves your panties to the side dragging a finger through your slit. 
  “This is what you were doing to me hermosa.” He had a point but you definitely weren’t this graphic. It’s so depraved it shouldn't be turning you on this much. The thought of being caught has a fresh wave of slick coating his fingers. 
  “I want you to come right here.” He dips two fingers in pumping slowly at first as his thumb rubs circles on your clit. 
  You’re panting in his mouth as your hips try to leave the seat. The buckle restricts your movements and the heavy weight of his other palm on your hip.
  It would look to the outside like he’s talking to you with the door open as he uses his body to shield what he’s doing. 
  A familiar feeling is building in your center as he picks up his pace, coaxing you on with hushed words. You’re a whimpering mess while you grip his shoulder as he calls you his good girl.
  “Oh my god Frankie.”
  “That’s it hermosa come on, I know you can do it.” He’s growling in your ear as he rolls his hips into the seat for friction. 
  You don’t think anyone’s ever made you feel like this with just their hands as a wave of pleasure shoots through you. He presses down on that bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars and you’re stifling your moans into his neck as you come down from your high. 
  He kisses you soft and sweet as if he didn’t just take you apart in the parking lot of this bar. He pulls his fingers from you leaving an empty ache that you can’t wait to be filled. He brings them up to his mouth and drags them between his lips, humming at the taste. 
  “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” His confession and lust blown eyes have you momentarily flustered. 
  You grab his neck pulling him into you as you lick into his mouth tasting yourself on his tongue. After waiting so long the desperation for each other is seeping through every fiber of your being as he devours your lips like his last meal. 
  You pause for a moment as he rests his forehead on yours, both of you trying to catch your breath. 
  “If we don’t leave now we won’t hear the end of it from Ben.” He plants a chaste kiss to your lips before he pulls away and closes your door. You’re grinning to yourself at the thought of explaining to any of them why you were still in the parking lot. 
  ——
  The ride to your house is less heated than your previous exchange but it’s almost better than that. His hand hasn’t left your thigh as he focuses on the road occasionally glancing over to you. You can’t stop looking over at him and his backwards hat doing wild things to your imagination.
  The silence is filled with so much tension as you think about finally having something you’ve wanted for so long. 
  He pulls into your driveway, mirroring so many things he’s done before yet this time as he comes around to open your door and help you out you can feel the desperation. He’s crowding behind you as you make your way to the door, his hands caress your hips as you struggle with shaky hands to unlock it. 
  As you enter he spins you around pressing his body to yours against the door, his breath is hot on your neck as he trails kisses along it down to your collarbone and pulls at the fabric of your dress with his teeth. 
  You throw his hat somewhere behind him as you finally run your fingers through his soft locks, he moans into your chest as you tug him further into you. Every nerve in your body is on the edge waiting to be pushed over. 
  He lifts your leg over his hip as he grinds into you, his hard cock straining through his jeans as he rubs it against you. You reach between you to unbuckle his pants and dip your hand under the waistband of his boxers, desperate to feel the soft skin of his cock as you wrap your fingers around it. 
  “Fuck.” He’s panting into your neck as he cants his hips helping you stroke him over and over. He gently grabs your wrist stilling your movements. “I’m not gonna last if you don’t stop.”
  “Bedroom?” Your voice comes out more timid than you like but he insistently nods his head as he gets a look in his eyes that you’ve only seen a handful of times. 
  You withdraw your hand and step out of your heels, he thinks you’re going to lead the way as you lightly push against his chest trailing your fingers down to put some distance between you but he sees a moment flash in your eyes as you take off towards the bedroom. 
  You may have had the element of surprise but just briefly as you hear loud footsteps quickly approaching. You’re giggling like some teenager as you round the corner to your bedroom. His hands are on your waist pulling you hard into his chest. “You’re going to pay for that.” He’s growling into your ear, breathing heavy behind you as he pulls your dress over your head. 
  You turn in his arms and graze your fingers under the hem of his shirt, lightly brushing the soft skin of his belly. He shudders under your touch as you lift it over his head. 
  This dance you’re doing with each other feels practiced like you’ve done it a thousand times. You don’t think after tonight you’ll be able to walk away not needing and wanting this everyday. 
  He walks you backward until your legs hit the bed, he gestures his fingers for you to scoot back as he strips down to nothing. He’s standing hard and naked in front of you, eyes boring into you hungrily like he wants to devour you. 
  He dips his knee onto the bed as he trails his fingers up your calf, leaning down to place kisses along your thighs and your stomach as he works his way up. He pauses between your breasts and you can feel his cock twitch against your clothed core. A half whine leaves your lips as he sucks hard on your nipple while his hand teases the other. 
  “Patience…I told you I was gonna make you pay for that hermosa.” Surely chasing you a few feet down a small hallway doesn’t equal the teasing he’s putting you through but you don’t want this to be over quickly so you will yourself to relax. 
  He tucks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips as he slides them down your legs discarding them somewhere behind him. He leans back a little as he spreads your legs wide exposing your dripping folds to him. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” 
  He grips the base of his cock, the tip is red and angry steadily leaking precum as he pumps himself over you groaning at the way your pussy clenches in anticipation. He drags the tip through your slit without pressing in, the sensation is too much and not enough as you try to raise your hips. He presses you down hard into the mattress with his other hand as his lips crash into yours swallowing your whimpers of frustration.
  “I like those little noises you make…I might just keep playing with you for a while.”  He teases your entrance just barely pressing into your core and then slowly pulls away. He chuckles into your neck at the loud mewl you let out.
  He’s trying to kill you. If you died this way it would be worth it. 
  “Frankie…” Your attempt at begging is cut off as he buries himself to the hilt, he’s so thick and the stretch is almost too much but he slowly starts to rock his hips and you both let out a sigh of relief as your body finally relaxes. Your legs spread wider to wrap around his waist as your feet press against his ass to pull him in closer. 
  “Fuck this pussy feels like heaven.” He moans into your neck as he picks up his pace, you can feel every ridge of his cock through your walls as you clench down hard on him, the sounds coming from him only spur you on more as you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. 
  He grabs your hands placing them above your head as he looks between you watching where your bodies meet. You’re shaking beneath him as your climax quickly approaches, he leans down kissing you and swallowing every moan that leaves your lips. 
  His pace is faltering and you can tell he’s right on the edge with you. You lock your fingers with his still placed above your head as you whisper praises into his ear and chants of his name. 
  “Come with me Frankie.” The breathless tone of your voice and the lone tear falling down your face as you come hard, clenching down on him. It’s like a firework behind your eyes as he shouts your name into your neck grinding his hips once and twice before he collapses his weight on top of you. 
  You lay there a while rubbing soothing lines up and down his sweaty back as he tries to catch his breath. 
  “I’m crushing you.” He tries to slide off you but you cage him in with your legs not yet ready to face the moment where he might leave. 
  “Just a little bit longer please?” He kisses your lips as an answer. Swollen and puffy from the night's activities but so soft in his own way. 
  He eventually pulls away from you as he retreats to your bathroom, you can faintly hear the sound of running water as sleep tries to claim you. He returns with a washcloth as he delicately wipes your thighs and your folds with such care that you almost cry. No one’s ever cared for you like this after sex. It’s a shame how foreign it feels. 
  “It would probably be more comfortable if we slept under the covers.” He’s trying to tug them back as you register what he’s saying. 
  “You want to stay?” He pauses at your words perhaps a little forward in assuming you wanted him to.
  “Of course…only if you want.” You crawl under them faster than you realize and pat the spot next you where you normally have a mountain of pillows. 
  He slides in perfectly as he pulls you flush against him, his slow breaths fanning the back of your neck as he starts to fall asleep. 
  The unspoken rhythm of this dance finally finds its voice between you. 
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Steddie Florist AU - Part 2
Part 1
Steve watched in a haze as Eddie stepped out the front door with his new dahlia. Of course this mystery man gravitated towards them, he thought to himself. They stick out in a crowd, are revered for their beauty, often symbolizing kindness and everyone that loves dahlias is obsessed with their moody aesthetic. Perfect for Eddie. Thankfully Robin wasn’t here today to poke fun at his now blossoming crush. He continued his usual tasks, happily letting thoughts of the bartender fill his mind. 4 hours, he can stop by the bar in 4 hours.
Eddie practically skipped the remaining block from the Flower Shop to the bar. Chrissy was already pulling down chairs from the tops of tables as he entered. “I finally walked in!” He announced. Her blonde ponytail whipped around as she placed another chair down. “You walked in? Like actually step foot inside?” she questioned, excitement woven into her tone. Eddie nodded as a smile stretched across his face. He held out the dahlia with Shakespearean flare knowing it would be proof enough. “He gave it to me on the house, so I offered him a drink tonight,” he smiled walking past Chrissy towards the rows of liquor behind the bar hoping to find something empty enough to use as a vase. It didn’t take long skimming through the shelves before he landed on a Tanqueray bottle he could rinse out. Chrissy made her way towards him to start prepping the garnishes, “A flower on the house?” “Yes, on the house.” Eddie reiterated. “I can’t believe the first time you actually step foot in there, the florist who you’ve been eyeing for months, flirts with you within what? 5… 10 minutes of you being there! And you arrive with a dahlia of all things,” Chrissy says in almost disbelief. Eddie had already rinsed the now completely empty bottle of gin and carefully unwrapped the flower from its tissue paper to place it in and out on the bar in full display, “So? It’s just a flower, he’s a florist, it’s a flower shop. He’s probably given loads of customers free flowers.”
The statement was as humbling as it was disheartening. Eddie wanted the flower to be a special moment between the florist and him. But romance was never company, not for any of the Munsons. Romance was a daydream. So the realist in him crushed any hopes of love before they could take root. No one had won the key to his gated heart. “Oh come on Eddie!” Chrissy scolded as she placed the lime knife down, “Dahlias represent long lasting bonds, love, devotion. Flowers have their own language and meanings. This man thinks you’re beautiful and I’ll bet he also has a crush on you.” Eddie was struck, dumbfounded, “What do you mean flowers have language? You can tell all that by a single flower?” “Yes, Eddie, I can. Lesbians know a lot about Victorian flower language. It’s a whole gay thing,” she explained. He humphed in curiosity, contemplating this new information, “Well don’t get my hopes up too high. I barely spoke to him and I can only pray to whoever’s out there he’ll even make an appearance later.”
Steve wrapped up his shift soon enough. Thankfully a customer’s custom bouquet order held his attention for the last 2 hours making the time fly by. He left the keys for Vickie to lock up as she arrived and he ran out the door. He sprinted back to his apartment, and opened the door to the small studio decorated with plants, paintings Robin made for him, and photos of him and his step-brother Dustin. Steve rushed through his shower so he could spend a decent amount of time on his outfit and hair before racing towards the Red Dragon. After much deliberation and a quick FaceTime with Dustin and his girlfriend Susie he settled on his light brown bomber jacket with the olive tinted elbow patches, a perfectly fitted off-white button up with a small leaf pattern, blue jeans and his slightly worn down converse. Susie suggested most of his clothes which was new territory for them but Dustin reassured him he looked like himself and not the straight-passing jock he typically would anywhere outside the shop. Steve smiled in the mirror as he did a final fit check, laughing at the accuracy in which Dustin described him then was out the door without any further hesitation.
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coochiequeens · 1 year
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As your bones lose density, the only way you will protect them is by keeping your muscle mass; building strength in middle age is part of what will define the shape and tempo of your old age. “
When 50-year-old Anna Jenkins, the founder of We Are Fit Attitude (Wafa), a woman-only health and fitness club, looked online for images of older women exercising, she was irritated by the pitiful size of the weights: the stock image is of a woman with grey hair lifting a 1kg weight, as if doing so were some kind of milestone. My personal bugbears are the photos in which there is a personal trainer with an expression of infinite patience next to the older woman, as if the latter is weak and half witted.
Stock photos are the internet’s idea of what the world should look like, sets of generic images intended to illustrate articles and advertising, often revealing more worldview than they probably set out to. There are famously a lot of photos of white women laughing near salad, meant for healthy eating content, but also reinforcing inane cheer and self-denial as cornerstones of femininity. If fitness imagery of the young is all about aspiration – six packs, muscle definition and impossible body fat percentages – fitness imagery of older people is almost anti-aspirational. Its message is: “You probably can’t do anything at all, but look over here, there’s a lady managing this tiny thing.”
Jenkins runs the Wafa classes remotely and in person for women ranging from their late 30s to their mid-70s. One Saturday, at a class in Merton, south London, they decided to create a new set of photos, repopulate the ecosystem of stock photographs, so that when you search for “older women exercising”, you will be able to see what that really looks like. “These are proper weights,” says Annette Hinds, 60. “We’re not pussyfooting about.”
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Jenkins went into group work and coaching from personal training because she had noticed that, in the gym: “Women would go straight to the cardio machine because they knew how it worked. It’s a frightening environment when you think you don’t belong, when you’re unhappy in your body shape. But they didn’t need more cardio – at 45-plus your body needs strength work. Especially during the menopause. It’s just a fact.”
As your bones lose density, the only way you will protect them is by keeping your muscle mass; building strength in middle age is part of what will define the shape and tempo of your old age. But as Glenda Cooper, 51, who usually does this class remotely five times a week, says, there is more to it than that. “Women at this time of life have parents we’re caring for. I’ve got two kids. You don’t want to take up too much space, you feel invisible anyway, you don’t make time for yourself. It’s so important to have a sense of your own strength, which I think is absent from the rest of our lives.”
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The atmosphere is fierce: as Lorraine Turner, 59, says: “I never used to think I was competitive, but later in life, I’ve realised that I am. I get a lot out of it if I push myself more.” Karen Silvestri, 60, remarks archly: “My husband’s a chef so I eat a lot and drink a lot. I still manage to retain this normal shape.”
Palmer’s daughter paid her a compliment on her butt the other day: “She said it wasn’t flat like a lot of women my age.” Downward comparison is very motivating, and it is also fun to watch when people are so unabashed about it.
“We’re a funny bunch, women, aren’t we?” Teresa Klasener, 61, says. She was very active until she got rheumatoid arthritis, then it all hit the skids until she started with Wafa two years ago. “We have all these mental blocks, we don’t prioritise ourselves, but once we’re in a group, we’ll fly.”
Jenkins says: “When I first became a personal trainer, I’d see a lot of women who were yo-yo dieters, and it was often because they were trying to be skinnier than their bodies were meant to be. I think exercise makes you confident in your shape as it is.” That might be the ultimate break with the visual norms of the fitness industry, that these are images of strength and exertion for their own sake, not for how they’ll make you look in spaghetti straps.
“I never knew what people were talking about with the endorphin thing,” Redford says. “And now, I do feel a sense of joy and self-congratulation, knowing that I just fucking went for it.”
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