#a helpful figure but she’s also like. when did that happen?

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you try to breakup with paige, but she apologizes the right way.

warning (s): smut, strap, nasty makeout sesh, desperate p (on my knees for her yo), body licking, nipple sucking, ab riding, strap riding, overstim, hairpulling. think it’s all.

word count: like 4k or sum?

author note: GUYSSS SEND ME REQQ im runnin outta ideas but they’re helping fr — omgosh i was kinda lazy w this one but 🤷‍♀️ we’re done soo enjoy!! Unedited again, based off req again, and written very late (again)

For a while now, Paige had sensed things were starting to change between you guys, but she never realized the full extent of it until you were laid out before her, prepared for her to claim what she'd rightfully believed belonged to her and just her.

In that moment and the moments that followed, she'd become immensely startled at how susceptible she'd become to the clear break from casuality your actions unintentionally endorsed. You most likely hadn't seen it that way -- you'd always harbored a tiny figurative crush on Paige from the beginning which you had confided in her friends about.

Paige was also well aware, notioned by your behavior during sex. You consistently praised her for being 'so fucking hot' and would go on fuck-drunk-tangets about how attractive you found her, or you'd occasionally steal a kiss from her whenever her lips were momentarily unoccupied during your hookups. She found your excitement endearing and trusted your ability to turn it off outside of the bedroom, which you always did. But for the first time ever, truly ever since you guys had fucked, which was countless times now, you had let your emotions overcome you, and you had kissed Paige in a way that was incredibly intimate, meant for real lovers.

Due to her occasional tiredness that sometimes prohibited the girl from leaving, she had spent the night, and the morning after, when you had both woke up interwined, naked with your bodies against each-other, you gave her a telling gaze before foolishly pressing your perfect lips against hers in a way that didn't require a genius in strictly physical relationships to realize that wasn't the moment for a kiss.

One thing about Paige, though, was that she couldn't ever resist you. She hated knowing so and wanted to fix it. In the same way you had a silly crush on her, she always held a small amount of an irrestible infatuation with you. If she didn't want to do something, Paige always managed to stop herself, but with you, she could never regain control or resist certain instances at particular times.

As most casual partners did, you two never kissed without it leading somewhere, and you were both aware of the limited time you guys had.

Yet, you spent a significant portion of that dwindling time passionately making out in bed like lovers, not pausing for a single moment to even catch your breath. It was undeniably intimate, passionate, and emotional, yet to Paige, it felt like another mistake, this time on your end. She knew you were very smart but chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. Due to her budding feelings, she chose to believe it could've just been her misreading the signs of the kiss and it could've been normal, just you being overly excited on accident, which happened to the best of us.

It could've even been you savoring your last moments with her before life resumed again.

You had been busy working and going to group study dates with your friends while Paige and her team traveled a city over to train at a renowned studio before their big game on the weekend, meaning she'd be gone until the next Tuesday, a week from your morning together.

It had been Thursday, a good ways through the week until Paige returned and until you had your off day booked, but you guys had not texted or called despite both thinking of each-other lots. All your friends, who previously didn't care about Paige, believing her to be nothing but a douchey-player-skeeze, finally cared enough to listen to your loss of virginity story. Every detail, from the precise strokes she gave you to her entranced demeanor at the state she'd left you in and the morning after story made them recognize the intensity and intimacy in the situation.

Some of them believed that Paige was breaking from her usual behavior, what they called her many 'laws', because she was starting to seriously like you, but the others thought it had been the opposite way around. They said she had gotten what she wanted from you and was done, seeing no point in caring about her rules at the end of the road. From the beginning of your involvement with her, they warned you that it was a trap designed to make you develop feelings before she eventually lived up to her player reputation and broke the heart of an innocent, never-before-loved girl. This topic sparked a heated debate among your friends, who relished the opportunity for debate. As they argued about whether Paige had fallen in or out of love, a grave realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

Before Paige settled down with you only, a choice she made on the basis of you being the only girl she was seeing who wasn't stress, drama, or complications, she was always transparent about her weekends after big games. If she had chosen to stay where the game was hosted for the weekend instead of coming back home to relax after a busy week, it meant she was getting with other girls. ou weren't by any means dumb. Paige was going to leave you; not for any of the debated reasons, but because she had likely realized the intimacy long before you had and was now prepared to escape. The kiss you initiated was spontaneous, and Paige likely knew this, choosing to begin a subtle breakaway. She'd start by making it clear she would be with other girls, not calling or texting, thus ghosting you, hoping your smart self would catch the hint.

And boy, you had. You broke down. On the kitchen floor, all your moments with Paige, starting from the beginning, replayed in your head in a loop. You remembered when you first met at the party, the way she looked at you, and how it felt when she kissed you. Then, there was the first time you two had sex. You recalled how nervous you were, and how she reassured you, alike the presumed, figurative and literal last time you had. You reflected on the first time you ever cried in front of her, upset at your grades and the first time she opened up to you about her struggles with wanting a normal life while also being committed to her career. It was a rare glimpse into her world, and it brought you closer together.

As these memories flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing and sadness for what was now lost.

Life had become unbearably stressful, and you found solace in Paige's company, perhaps subconsciously evading your stress by seeking her out. She was more than just a girl you were fucking ; she was a friend, someone you could turn to when you had no one else. But now, the prospect of experiencing her comfort again seemed uncertain, and you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all your fault for initiating this foolish ordeal in the first place. You were upset, feeling betrayed by Paige's sudden detachment. How could she just let you go like that? You felt dumb for ever believing she wasn't capable of it, despite her warnings. The exhaustion from juggling school, work, and studies had reached its tipping point, and you were overwhelmed by it all. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in a sea of self-doubt and despair. "My friends were right," you lamented. "How could I agree to getting used by her?" you cried out. Thoughts of your own perceived foolishness echoed in your mind. "I'm so dumb," you whispered to yourself, feeling like you had single-handedly ruined everything.

And in a fit of utter madness, you decided to text her, asking: ur stayin over the wknd? lmao i just realized that wtf? When an hour passed, her typical response span, you lashed out and texted: who are u fucking paige? All boldly. You never questioned it -- that was a rule. But who cared about breaking her rules at this point? You following them for this long had got you nothing but dumped and ignored like a piece of trash.

To your expentancy, Paige never replied and you texted her a long paragraph detailing your frustration with her. As you reached the end of your message, a sense of clarity washed over you. In a futile last attempt to take control of the situation, regardless of who said it first, with a heavy heart, you made the difficult decision to end things, recognizing that prolonging the pain was no longer an option.

Then, you got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. There, you released all your pent-up energy and had a chance to focus on yourself. Needless to say, you slept soundly after letting your emotions out, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders at chosing to prioritize your own well-being.

Paige's morning (and night) was a stark contrast to yours. While you wept, she was getting with a UCONN cheerleader after hours and drunk out of her fucking mind. She woke up at the side of a random girl while expriencing the worst hangover she had ever had, unable to recall the events of the previous night.

She stumbled from an Uber to her dorm house, feeling disoriented and sick. Upon returning home, Azzi noticed her state and confiscated her phone to retrace her night, only to discover a barrage of texts from you. Paige spent the next two days sleeping off her hangover, feeling utterly drained. On Sunday, when the rest of the team returned home, they staged an intervention for Paige.

They expressed concern about her drinking habits and advised her to focus on her career rather than letting a girl consume her thoughts. They warned her against reconciling with you, citing your recent breakup and her drinking as red flags. Paige felt confused and defensive as her team confronted her about the relationship. She argued that there was nothing wrong with it and denied being as invested as they claimed. However, when they pointed out evidence of her attachment to you, including her lock-screen, her taking your virginity, and the videos of you she frequently watched without caring for being caught, she felt defeated. It was at that moment, when her world seemed to be pushing you two apart, that Paige discovered you had initiated the push yourself. She felt the same heartache and confusion you had felt the day before. Despite trying to maintain a facade of indifference, she couldn't deny the impact the situation was having on her. Despite her efforts to focus on training, playing, and studying, thoughts of you consumed her late at night, leaving her feeling torn and emotionally drained.

She knew it was probably wrong to do so, but once again, she gave you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you were going through stuff or maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgmental. There was no way you truly meant to end things and this rebellion was very uncharacteristic of you. Paige felt the need to see you face-to-face, to observe your behavior and gauge if you were truly done with her, and if she was truly done with you as her friends suggested she should be. Plus, she had always emphasized the importance of speaking in person, so you should have known to expect her at your door on Tuesday night.

Coincidentally, you had just ordered dinner, so when you heard the knock, you pulled open the door without hesitation and froze dead in your tracks at the sight of her.

"Hey," she half-smiled, awkwardly. This was bad. What the hell was she doing here? Deep down, you knew you were still tangled up inthe aftermath of your decision, but that didn't stop the instinctual yearning that surged within you at the sight of her. You hadn't even expected her to show up, stirring a potent mix of confusion and desire that pulsed through your veins and heart like a wildfire. As you stood there between your door-frame, silent, your body betraying you with insistent tingles and heated pulses to your clit, she continued. "I know I should've called or texted you back before showing up, but I've been in some shit," Paige confessed, her voice tinged with regret. "I just wanna talk." "You're right, Paige. You should've texted me back or called me. Your entire week away, why didn't you?" you pressed, voice sharp with frustration. A silence hung heavy in the air briefly before the girl scratched the nape of her neck, her demeanor embarrased. "I

was hungover," she admitted sheepishly. You nodded, your tongue poking at your cheek as you mulled over her response. "Alright, well, it's not my fault then, Paige. Goodnight," you stated firmly, intending to close the door. However, with her strength, she held it open as she insisted, "Don't be a bitch, y/n. You aren't this kinda girl." Against your will, the door was opened fully. "No, Paige, you don't get to ignore me and then show up to fix things when you realize I'm not just some toy at your convience and that I can make choices in our situation too. Up until now, I've respected everything you've ever told me, so just this once, respect what I said to you," you asserted firmly.

Paige could have engaged in a heated debate with you, confident in her ability to outmaneuver your frustrations, but that wasn't her intention being there. She wasn't ready to lose you yet. "You're that mad at me? You wanna end everything?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as she searched your eyes for an answer. You remained silent, averting your gaze from hers, which alone had spoken volumes. She sighed out, remorseful. "I'm sorry." This was a far cry from the Paige you'd begun with. At the start of it all, when she held all the power and you were simply the girl, she would have never uttered a straightforward apology. If she flaked on you and showed up later, she didn't apologize outright. Instead, she tended to offer explanations for her actions. Presently, she had not even attempted her typical evasive manuvers. "I'm an asshole." she conceded self-deprecatively. And oddly enough, with her hands clasped behind her back, chewing out her bottom lip, and a look of remorse on her face, she just looked so sexy to you.

Your face had lit up after she'd insulted herself, like it had pleased you, and when Paige saw your change in demeanor, she instantly recognized a positive response from you to anything she'd said, so she spoke again, her tone now more fervent and eager for your acknowledgment. "I am, right?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation, as if searching for validation from you. When you tried to look up, avoiding her eyes, it was her touch next. You craved it. You'd missed it. You wanted it. Yeah, you wanted to be strong too—but with her hand interlocking with yours, you really wanted it. She did too. You could feel her eyes tracing down your body, and in that moment, you knew Paige missed you too, even if she was acting a fool in absence. She could have any girl in the world, but here she was, becoming undone, unraveled, so desperate just for you. You nodded your head carefully, confirming your agreement with that sentiment. She was an asshole. "Yeah," she murmmured, her desire for your approval palpable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her as her head buried itself delicately in the crook of your neck—it would make it all too real. At first, she's still, engulfing your scent with deep inhales like a curious dog. As she inhales, the air sends shivers down your spine, making your skin tingle with anticipation. Every nerve in your body feels alive, sensitive to her every touch. That's what causes you to let out a soft moan when with a desperate hunger, Paige's tongue glides over your skin, tracing every curve of your crook with an urgency that betrays her need for you and leaves you breathless. She keeps going, entirely undeterred by your half-hearted whisper of, "Paige, stop." as your hand rests on her waist, holding her close. It's as if something has come over her. She acts like she's starved and can't get enough of you. Like she's trying to imprint every inch of you into her memory before you slip away. "Don't leave me," Paige's voice trembles with longing as her hand snakes down to grip your ass tightly. "Please."

You're losing yourself too, succumbing to the intoxicating heat of the moment. Other building occupants could stumble upon the scene unfolding, but in that moment, you don't care about nothing other than her. As the intensity of the moment washes over you, your head, previously tilted backward, comes down instinctively.

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of Paige's lips against yours as you press into the kiss. Her tongue darts against yours and with an insatiable hunger, she begins to prod at your tongue, licking that too. You can taste the faint trace of yourself on her tongue, heightening the intensity of the moment as you both vie for control in the kiss. You begin to grind against each other, your bodies moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrors the urgency of your kisses, and your lips struggle to keep pace with the fevered tempo as you move against each-other, Paige groaning loudly, unable to contain the surge of arousal exiting her pussy. With each further movement, spit begins to fall on your chest, a tangible sign of the passion consuming you both.

In the blink of an eye, Paige has slipped into your apartment. She places you against the front door and her lips trail across your chest as she swiftly undresses you. You find yourself yielding to her advances. She exudes a strength that renders resistance futile.

As your clothes fall away, Paige doesn't linger to admire the sight before her. She mentally accounts how she couldn't ever take the sight of your body, in real life and not over a phone, for granted, but she's too worked up to say anything to you at this point.

As she lays you down on the bed, she wastes no time in shedding her shirt, revealing the contours of her body clad in a sleek sports bra. The definition of her abs catches your eye, a testament to her week of rigorous training. A small moan escapes your lips at the sight, fueling the desire that courses through your veins. Instead of passively accepting her advances, you decide to take control. Rising up on your knees, you grasp the strings of her sweatpants and pull her towards you, eyes locked with her blueys. "I wanna ride 'em, P," you declare, seizing her by the waist and guiding her onto the bed. She's momentarily lost for words, her eyes widening in bewilderment. "W-what?" with a soft chuckle, you help her prop herself up against the bedpost before straddling her waist. Leaning forward, you dangle your breasts enticingly in front of her face.

"You're so strong," you murmur, releasing a loud moan as you rock your hips forward. She flexed in response, mirroring your movements, whether intentional or not, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Her solid, sturdy body was perfect for the grind of your clit. "I just wish you were as smart as you are powerful."

Paige held onto your hips as you ground forward, the slickness between your bodies creating a smooth, frictionless glide. With a husky tone, she murmured, "All wet for me, huh, ma?"

"Who wouldn't be?" you whimpered in response, your hips bucking eagerly against her. As you increased your pace, Paige delivered a sharp slap to your ass, exactly how she knew you liked it, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. "You still like me," she stated the obvious truth as you shuddered uncontrollably beneath her touch. Her mouth latched onto your nipple as you continued grinding, the feel of her lips and tongue making your hips stutter. "Mmph, fuck, P, wait... I'll cum if you..." you paused, halting your movements to catch your breath as she continued to suckle at your chest. With a loud 'pop', she unlatched, her own chest heaving with desire. "Can I fuck you with it again?" she asked, her voice thick with need and longing, her eyes searching yours for consent to do what began all this in the first place. "In the drawer," you replied mundanely, trying to hide your excitement though your desire for her was raging. You reasoned that the more unamused you behaved, the more she would try to make it up to you, all calculated to draw her closer while maintaining a semblance of control.

As she dug through your drawer and began to fit it on upon the bed, you stood up, positioning your vanity mirror to face the bed.

You needed to see yourself for what you were about to do. Climbing onto the bed, you slithered up Paige's body slyly, pointing your finger toward the mirror, your reflections capturing the desire and anticipation in both of your eyes. "Kay," you huffed, elevating your hips and watching as you slowly sunk down on her. She held your hips to help you, but you pushed them off, frowning fauxly.

"What, Paige? Don't think I got it in me to fuck you?" you teased, elevating slowly before coming back down again. With her hands behind her head, arms involuntarily flexing, she shook her head. "Never. Not how I fuck you." You ticked your head. "Let's see then. Shut up and let me focus." As you picked up the pace, you closed

your eyes, lost in the sensations coursing through your body. It was a familiar feeling, one you had forgotten but now remembered all too well. Paige's heavy breaths, entertained, echoed in the room, a testament to the intesity of the moment. You struggled to find a steady rhythm, letting instinct guide your movements. "Baby, slow it d--" Her voice, calling you "baby," sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "Mmh," you squeaked listlessly, "Fuck, Paige, keep talking to me," you moaned, bouncing on the thick member, your head thrown back in abandon. "What's the magic word?" she teased, her words sending shivers down your spine. "Pl-please," you stammered, your body on fire. "Good girl, baby. You know I love when you use your manners," she cooed, her words driving you over the edge. Unable to resist any longer, you surrendered to Paige's devotion, allowing her to guide you toward the peak of ecstasy, despite the initial intention of taking control.

She remembered how much you enjoyed it on your stomach. With precision, she slammed her hips against yours, pounding you relentlessly for around ten seconds before deciding to switch your position, sensing that you were close. With you now on your stomach, she placed a hand on your hip and pressed you down against the bed as she continued to pound into you with fervor. Gripping your hair, she pulled you up so you could see yourself in the mirror, intoxicated by the sight. You looked utterly wrecked. Drool escaped your parted lips, your hair matted with sweat, and tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. She had fucked you so relentlessly that it bordered on painful, yet the pleasure was incomparable. The sight of her biting her bottom lip as she worked you over, plunging deep inside you without breaking a sweat, was mesmerizing. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her body against yours as she continued to piston her hips, driving deep into you. "I'm so, so sorry. I hope you forgive me. I won't stop until you do."

Paige's powerful strokes sent loads of pleasure coursing through your bones, each thrust causing you to shake. You gripped the sheets tightly for stability, your nails digging into the fabric as she plunged into you with a hunger that matched your own. With your legs wrapped around her, you met her gaze, drowning in the intensity of her eyes as she devoured you with hers.

The sight of her arm muscles flexing as she held you steady, abs too, and her body working against yours fueled the fire burning within you, and it was only a matter of time until you exploded entirely. The reflection in the mirror only added to the raw eroticism of the moment, capturing the sheer intensity of your connection, the passion that consumed you both. She had you completely at her mercy, using you for her own pleasure, and yet, you couldn't help but revel in the sheer ecstasy of it all. "I wanna cum, Paige," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Please, just keep fucking me like that." The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, a song of want mingling with the rhythm of your moans. You surrendered to the pleasure, letting it wash over you in wave after wave of bliss, each one pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Do you forgive me yet?" she breathed, her voice dripping with cockiness. You shook your head, the ache of desire mingling with the sting of resentment. "Why not, baby?" she teased, her lips curling into a wicked grin. The truth spilled from your lips, a confession. "Because you're so fuckin' mean to me," you gasped, the words punctuated by a moan as she drove into you with renewed fervor. She shook her head, a smirk playing at her lips as she reveled in the power she held over you. "If I was mean to you, would I be fucking you to tears?" she taunted, each word pushing you closer to the brink of surrender. Please, Paige, faster, m'gonna cum so hard," you gasped, your nails digging into her wrists as you begged for more. "Yeah, baby?" she purred, disregarding the marks on her skin as she complied with your request, increasing the tempo with each thrust. "Fuck, P, yeah," you moaned, "shit mommy, I'm gonna cum." But she slowed herself slightly, denying you release. "No, you're not," she asserted, her thumb wiping away your tears as she held your gaze. "Not until you ask mommy to."

"Ughhh, P, so mean," you whined, complying, "please, mommy, please let me cum on your cock."

She smiled, proud. "C'mon baby, give it to me, mama," she urged, her movements becoming more frantic with each word. "Give it to me," she repeated, "give it to me," and when you finally did, your entire body convulsed, pleasure washing over you as you released, your essence squirting out and staining the sheets. You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room, uncaring if your neighbors could hear, lost in the throes of ecstasy. But she didn't stop, continuing to fuck you even after you'd climaxed. And when you finally begged her to stop, overwhelmed and spent, she paid you no mind, only focused on one thing and one thing only. "You forgive me, baby?" she asked, her thrusts sloppy. "Yes, yes, yes, Paige. I forgive you," you murmured, unable to raise your voice any longer."Huh?" she teased, forcing you to speak louder. "Yes, Paige. I FORGIVE YOU!" you declared, the words ringing out as she abruptly withdrew from you. You knew what she wanted next as she removed the strap, her intentions clear. "Let's put your mouth to use," she commanded, and the night was far from over.

an: y/n delulu era? Idk how I rly feel ab this one lmk guys I love reading your comments and my inbox it’s like the best 🤞

also y’all this is part 4

#smut #18+ only #paige x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers fic #paige x fem reader #Paige x oc #Paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #bueckersxfemreader #smutwccb #smut bueckers #uconn huskies #march madness #uconn vs iowa #paigesmut #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #ncaa tournament #ncaa march madness #strapsmut #wlw smut #wlw post #pb #Paige bueckerswlw #Paige #wlw #woman’s basketball

[megistusdiary]

can i interest you all in figure-skating coach!arlecchino?

(longer post utc. no smut, just fluff? - tw slight age gap and also idk specifics on figure skating, i just like the idea 😚)

she's a well-known figure-skater, having gone to the olympics for snezhnaya for several years, each time bringing home the gold for her nation.

she's elegant in her movements yet calculated down to each singular motion to pull it all together in beautiful displays on ice. her outfits are always perfect down to the very threads sewn together.

the way she carries herself at conferences, on camera she's stoic but professional, and pretty enough to have both men and women at her feet when she performs.

that is until the incident.

a chronic back injury she's sustained from pushing her body too far. her coach was always relentless. even when she was miles ahead of her fellow competitors, her coach wanted more.

her coach demanded perfection from all her trainees, yet arlecchino was different. held on a pedestal for all to see.

but don't get it twisted. arlecchino herself would often be found practicing these challenging routines all alone at 3 in the morning. she would be exhausted, limbs aching, and relentless to achieve the cleanest routine.

that back injury changed her life. she disappeared for a few years from the skating world, leaving many of her fans in shock and fear.

luckily, for them, she returned soon after with an apprentice of her own. a younger man by the name of tartaglia with a rather charming theme to all his performances.

unlike arlecchino, he was bolder in his performances. a little sloppy, by her standards, but he made up for it in his flair. she could see even the judges swooning over him, the fans' attention now on him rather than her.

or so she had assumed.

she meets you when her old coach introduces the two of you. she's a good several years older than you, and you still carry that sweet, fresh-faced, joyful look on your face.

as you practice your routine for the both of them, her old coach leans over, suggesting arlecchino take you instead.

she snorts uncharacteristically at the suggestion, watching how your spins are slightly wobbly, the way you look just a tad too small on the ice. she wonders how in the world she could make you a star.

it isn't until she sees you perform with your music, with your passion, that she decides to train you.

she grows annoyed by how starkly different her old coach's methods have become. unlike when arlecchino trained, you clearly haven't been sculpted to perfection. she wonders how, at this point in your career, you wouldn't be there. though, she supposes your smile and demeanor make-up for some of your faults.

she trains you harder, scheduling extra lessons for you outside of your normal hours, watching you yawn and rub your eyes when she calls you in at midnight.

many of her students often leave, saying the pressure was too great. how she was too demanding. she never offered extra lessons, expecting people to bring her talent to work with in the first place.

so why did she give you extra attention?

why wouldn't she just let you leave?

no. she didn't want that... she wouldn't let that happen. she'd rather take extra time to not only make you competent, but a fierce competitor.s

she's even put you in ballet classes. even more remarkable is her own talent in ballet, which you can't help but admire.

the first time she ever finds herself looking at you closer than she imagined. she stands next to you, demonstrating stretches, her hand running up your spine to adjust your posture.

you exhale so softly, almost imperceptibly, but it makes her touch falter, landing just a little too tenderly at the base of your spine before she pulls away. she watches you the rest of the lesson, adjusting your legs and arms to the proper position, her hand trailing up to graze over your jaw.

she tilts your head upwards. "stop looking down." she comments, low and sultry, seeing you swallow thickly. "you're being trained by one of snezhnaya's most renowned figure skaters. act like it."

she gently squeezes your jaw before releasing you. "we're finished for the day." she leaves you panting, entirely embarrassed and internally screaming out.

unbeknownst to you, she sits in the car, staring at the hand she used to touch your jaw, a hardened look on her face. she clenches her hand, a soft blush appearing on her normally dull cheeks as she waits for you so you may both leave the ballet studio.

when you finally do perform at competitions, she finds herself growing much more vocal. oftentimes, she remains quiet, only cringing at her other students' stumbles and deductions.

but not with you.

your moves have become much more elegant, and everyone can see. the commentary surrounds how you seem to emulate the epitome of what your coach stood for herself, but in a much softer tone.

your performance leaves her enraptured, your routine completely clean, garnering you praise and showers of applause.

yet you leave the ice with only one person in mind, your hand brushing over hers when you walk past her to find your water bottle.

and, for the first time, she finds herself wanting more. even when you're sweaty under your glittering dress, hair a mess, makeup starting to smudge. she wants you. her perfect apprentice.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin wlw #fem reader #💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´ #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

#writers on tumblr #challengers imagine #challengers x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you

[bymarara]

Will and the Boys Don't Cry.

Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.

Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.

Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.

Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.

Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.

Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.

“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.

What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,

Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.

I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.

#byler #byler endgame #will byers #finn wolfhard #mike wheeler #byler brainrot #mike wheeler fanart #noah schnapp #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #st #byler s5 #st analysis #st5 #st5 spoilers #st5 speculation #stranger things s5 #will x mike #will byers fanart

[bella-goths-wife]

Ghostbusters x ghost reader

Warnings: mentions of death, obsessive behaviour, non canon events, descriptions of traps being painful, ghost stuff

You had no idea what happened

One minute you were alive, and the next you were dead

But it wasn’t the death you were promised

You were given your body, but your skin was translucent and you felt utterly weightless

You were hysterical as you tried to ask the people surrounding you what was happening, but they ignored your presence and you quickly figured out they couldn’t see you or notice your presence

You had no clue how long you’d been dead, or how long you had roamed the streets in your Vaporised body

But you were so tragically bored

who knew that being a ghost was so mind numbingly mundane

You spent most of your days in your previous apartment with the tv on as you tried to live your life as if you were just having a day off from work, and not like you were dead and cursed to roam the world

But that only worked until the landlord cleared out your apartment so you just sat on the floor in the empty carcass that was once your home

And then some newlyweds moved in, and they were gross

You had to deal with seeing their acts of love and pda and have the realisation that that kind of love was no longer in the cards for you

So one day you got annoyed with their very loud PDA in the bedroom, and out of frustration you slammed cupboard and startled the life out of the couple

And a mischievous smirk crossed your face at the realisation that you could royally fuck someone’s day up with this

So you started off with hiding stuff, then breaking stuff until you finally got so frustrated that you screamed and accidentally revealed yourself to the couple

They called the ghostbusters the next day to report being haunted by the ghost of an early twenties female who was extremely mischievous

Winston and Ray were the first to arrive at the scene and immediately as they entered the apartment they felt a chill in their bones

You wanted to mess with them but you thought better of it as you had seen one of their adverts back before you died, you knew what they were here for and you were not about to get caught in one of those traps

So you just followed them into each of the rooms they visited and watched from over their shoulders

They had been to each of the rooms and retreated back to the living room when Peter and Egon arrived

Egon did various tests that you were careful to avoid in an attempt to fool them into thinking that you were not there

You hadn’t avoided the tests completely though, as Egon’s device showed that there was a ghostly presence but your attempts of fooling them had paid off because avoiding the device like you had gave the impression that the spiritual presence wasn’t in that apartment but someone else’s

The newlyweds were extremely frustrated with that outcome and demanded explanations for the various spiritual incidents like the coldness

To which venkman replied that they should check on their AC before stating that they were extremely busy and unless the spirit came back, the ghost busters couldn’t help

As they went to leave, you did something you weren’t sure was possible

You attached yourself to Egon as he left your apartment building, having taken you with him accidentally

And Egon accidentally took you straight to the ghostbusters headquarters

Where after you got adjusted, you wrecked havoc

You started off small by following the workers of ghostbusters around their daily routine in the headquarters

You followed Egon round in his lab, you followed Winston as he stored traps, you followed Peter around as he annoyed people in his office and you followed Ray around as he helped improve traps and washed the car

You also listened to Janine on the phone and whenever Dana would come in to visit Venkman you would follow her around as she helped keep the place in order

But that quickly got boring the routines became predictable, so you decided to throw a few wrenches in their plans

You’d mess with Egons lab equipment so that his results wouldn’t come out clearly

You’d move traps around whenever Winston went to clean them or store them until he found them in the strangest and impossible to reach sports

You’d mess with Peters papers whenever he left his office and your delete messages that someone left for him just out of spite

And you’d mess up any progress Ray made with the traps and you’d mess up anything he cleaned

It all become quite frustrating for the four men

You weren’t a violent or impulsive spirit like they had experience before, you were just mischievous and annoying

It all came to a head one night when you decided to get bold with your mischief

You had assumed that all of the ghostbusters were out for the night, but you failed to recall the recluse that was Egon Spengler

You had gotten bored so you decided to go to the radio that Janine kept on her desk and you blasted the radio as it played maneater by Daryl & Oats

You danced around in a similar fashion to Lydia from beetle juice as you raised yourself to the ceiling and danced around the room

The music had disturbed Egon as he rushed out of the lab and into the main area, where he saw you dancing

In your joy you had become visible to the human eye, and Egon could see the little minx who had been tormenting him and his friends for months on end

Egon watched for around ten minutes before you spotted him and disappearing, but not before flashing him a fox like smile

Now that Egon was aware of your existence, he decided it was time he looked into who you were

He pestered your landlord about the previous residents of your apartment and looked through the photos until he recognised you

Your landlord assumed Egon must have been an old boyfriend and insisted that he take some of your stuff since you had no family come and collect it, and Egon accepted out of peer pressure

So he brought your things back to the headquarters and looked through them

He found many things of interest to him but he noticed a dusty chess board in one of the various boxes and thought it would be a brilliant way to to establish communication

So he dusted off the chess board and set it up in his lab with a camera set up in the corner, and he waited

He made his first move and waited around five minutes before a piece from the opposite side moved in a countermove

Egon played chess with you until he eventually won, and he offered you a rematch on the condition that you communicated with him this time

And so you did, you made yourself visible to Egon and you were sporting the same fox like grin as before

Egon tried to ask questions during your second game, but you never answered past shaking and nodding your head

You had won the second round after making a few unexpected moves while Egon was distracted trying to communicate with you

Egon gathered the ghostbusters and showed them the tape before actively encouraging them to try and communicate with you whenever they noticed your mischievous presence

They all questioned why they shouldn’t just trap you and store you, but Egon quickly responded that he’d never seen a spirit with this amount of self awareness that you were a ghost, and the fact that you communicated with him was an intriguing premise as most spirits don’t communicate in favour of doing whatever they did before they died

It became somewhat of a daily occurrence for you to play chess with Egon as he encouraged you to talk and you refused

Winston was the most receptive to Egons as his frustration at your mischievous antics encouraged him to scold what looked like thin air about how hard you made his day, he may have felt foolish talking to himself but he’d do anything to try and convince you to stop hiding his traps

So he talked to an empty room as he stored a trap and almost stopped before hearing a ghostly giggle

He had turned around and saw your translucent figure actively laughing at his frustration before taking off with his trap

He practically played hide and seek with you for about an hour before he saw you leave the trap in the lab and take off with a fox like grin

That became a daily occurrence for Winston, and despite his annoyance he quite enjoyed your little games

Raymond was the next person to become more receptive to your presence as he tried to seek you out

He had noted what Egon had said about catching you dancing and that gave Ray an idea as he rewashed the car you dirtied again

He turned on the radio to his usual station of self proclaimed “groove music’ and talked to the room as he tried to encourage you to come out and listen to the music

And he was caught of guard when the radio completely turned off and for a moment he thought he had angered you

That was until the radio started again with a more pop like radio, and ray figured out that you weren’t angry but you hated his music

Ray tried to defend his music taste to your invisible presence and switch back the radio to his music but he got spooked as you came out of no where and did a quick ‘boo’

When he was distracted by the near heart attack you gave him, you switched it back to your music

Ray decided it was easier to give in rather than be spooked every time he went near the radio

After that, whenever ray was working on something he’d turn on the radio and you’d switch the music and you’d both listen together

And you’d still give him small spooks whenever you could

You bonded with Venkman months after the others and over something extremely surprising, crossword puzzles

Peter loved and hated crossword puzzles

He loved the feeling of completing one and the feeling of superiority that came from it, he hated that he could never actually finish them

So one day after your usual wreaking of havoc in his office, he sat down with a coffee and a crossword and felt extremely frustrated when he couldn’t complete it

So he sarcastically asked the prompt to what he thought was the empty room and was extremely surprised when an invisible figure plucked the pencil from his hand and answered the crossword

Peter was intrigued so he allowed your little game of him reading the prompts and you answering them until you both eventually finished it together

This made Peter much more tolerable to your presence as you two would do a crossword puzzle together whenever he had time or he felt your presence in his office

You had such a good relationship building up with each of them that they considered not trapping you and just letting you haunt the place in your own little harmless ways

But that was quickly scrapped when one day you accidentally took it too far

Dana had come to the headquarters to visit Peter and bring him coffee, and when she couldn’t find him she started wandering around looking for him

She followed the sound of music into the little garage section of the building and entered the room

You had been playing around with Ray at the time before he stepped out and when Dana came in you assumed she was Ray and gave her a little spook

This little spook however caused her to fall back and scrape her legs while the coffee spilled on her arm and gave her a small burn

You hadn’t meant to hurt her but she was so scared in that moment that she screamed

The commotion brought the four men down to her and misconstrued the scene as you purposely hurting Dana

Egon helped Dana with her injuries before sending her back home and calling a meeting

In this meeting he stated that you had become a dangerous and violent spirit and Peter quickly said that they should trap you, still raging over Dana getting hurt

They all agreed and before you knew it, they had cornered you as you clasped your hands together and pleaded for a second chance

They didn’t listen as they put you in the trap but the entire process felt like hit irons on your skin

You were eventually forced into this trap that to you looked like a jail cell from the inside before storing you with the rest of the ghosts and going on with their lives

Your afterlife was extremely mundane and painful as you were stuck in the trap for three months that felt like three years, with nothing to do and nowhere to go

The four men tried to go on with their lives but something distinct was missing

Out of routine kept accidentally doing the things that they would usually do with you and expecting you to show up

Egon would sit at the chess board and night before realising you weren’t coming and just playing a solo game of chess

Winston would set traps out for you to hide like he used to, only to find them still on the desk when he fishies counting to thirty

Ray would put his groove music on while he washed the car and waited for you to switch it over to pop, but you never came

Even Venkman, who was the most insistent on trapping you, would still accidentally read out a crossword puzzle prompt and wait for you to answer before finally realising that you weren’t there

So after three months and Dana explaining that she didn’t think you hurt her on purpose, they decided to release you from your trap

It was a relief to finally be free as you felt yourself becoming adjusted you your ghostly body again

The four ghost busters assumed that things were going to go back to the way they were, thinking that you wouldn’t be angry about the three months of entrapment

But you did remember and you were royally pissed off about it

You actively ignored all the efforts of the four men trying to contact you and you ignored all of their agologies (ray and Winston were the only ones to apologise)

You decided that they deserved to feel an inch of what you felt those painful three months

If they assumed you were dangerous and violent, you would give them dangerous and violent

Should I continue this? :)

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters x fem reader #egon spengler #egon spengler x reader #peter venkman #Peter venkman x reader #winston zeddemore #Winston zeddemore x reader #raymond stantz #Raymond stantz x reader #ghostbusters 1984 #ghost reader #dana barrett #Dana Barrett x reader

[winterflowersftw]

ITOSHI RIN HEADCANNONS + accidently meeting someone he knows when he's with you

I just made this silly drabble because I just got the idea of this scenario and I couldn't help but write it down. I hope you like reading it!

Itoshi Rin would be such a cute boyfriend. After getting comfortable with you, he'd truly start confiding in you. He'd come home and talk about his day, bitch about the other players and tell you about everything IN DETAIL. You'd also be his best friend and his person.

But sometimes he'd act so silly, like his brain's circuits got fried.

That happened when you both bumped into Bachira in a supermarket.

(You and Rin are shopping in a supermarket for house supplies.)

(Bachira spots Rin and calls his name out.)

Bachira: RIN!!! Hello!?

(Rin tries to make a run for it but he catches you guys pretty quickly)

Bachira: Why did you avoid me? (Pouts) We've spent enough time to NOT ignore each other in a public place. Don't you think?

Rin: I'm sorry. What's up Meguru?

(Bachira sees you next to Rin and goes)

Bachira: Who's this?

(Rin's ears are red and there's a slight blush on his cheeks)

Rin: Well, you see.....this person....uhm I meant, this woman....we'll she's my....

Bachira: Your what?

Rin: she's my ....uhm...she's my mother you see.

(By now Rin's whole face is red. Bachira doesn't seem to notice any of this.)

Bachira: Oh! She looks so young. Excellent genes I'd say. Anyways I'm late so I got to go! See you later!

It doesn't take a detective to figure out that you're pissed at Rin.

Y/N: Your mother, really?? Oh my god.

Rin slept on the couch that night.

#blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock #blue lock x gender neutral reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #silly drabbles #shitpost

[berrybaps]

Oc introduction time! Again :3

Meet iris! :D✨💕

More info after the cut!

°Information i have of her as of now✨

Iris is 26 years old!

She works at pigsy's noodles! helps with cleaning and even cook the noodles as well, maybe also bake a few of her desserts for costumers to help with pigsy's business!

Yes, just like lian, she has a skill for baking as well

Although being a good baker, she actually doesn't like sweets that much, she likes her food a bit more salty

Her favorite food are just any noodles (y'know where that started)

Actually more timid and soft spoken than lian, she only speaks when necessary

Iris wants to build a bakery of her own but due to the events that has been happening at the recent seasons, SHE CANNOT ☝️

Acts like a big sister to the traffic light trio :3

She's half filipino half chinese!

Lives in an apartment near pigsy's noodle shop

Iris started obtaining the abilities of a red panda demon as soon as she puts on that neck accessory that was given to her by her grandmother.

Unlike lian who can control her emotions very well, iris cannot! She's very emotional so it was harder for her to deal with her newly found abilities.

As you can see from the ref sheets, her original hair color is reddish brown!

Some likes and dislikes✨

Likes

I already did state this but she LOVES noodles, it might even be considered an addicti—

She likes to draw too, not as much as baking though

Probably loves listening to songs from Alex G—

She loves collecting anything pink that catches her eyes, so as soon as you come in her apartment, prepare to feast your eyes upon many pink trinkets and plushies she has—

Dislikes

She HATES being compared, she used to be compared to a lot of kids back in her childhood so the hatred feeling of being compared to has stuck to her til she was an adult—

Probably dislikes loud places. with her newly found abilities her hearing became more sensitive.

She dislikes cutting her hair, she will trim it if it gets ridiculously long though!

FINALLY got to post her as well, Iris is the main oc i have that are involved with the lmk gang so it would be fun to figure out how she'll fit in on every episodes of the seasons :3, I'll have to post more ocs in the future hopefully YES I HAVE MORE!!

Bonus : Lmk Edits of her! (She looks a little different from these cause these are old ☝️)

#digital art #lego monkey kid oc #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk oc #lmk oc art #drawing #artists on tumblr #lmk fandom

[peachesancreams]

Expanding on the Wives

everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~

Alastors wife

Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)

They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?

They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.

They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.

Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.

Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?

When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.

They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.

Now for the second and remembered meeting!!

Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.

It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.

Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.

"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."

Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.

He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.

Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.

Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!

They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.

Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.

She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.

Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.

Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.

It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.

They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.

Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.

Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?

#x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #1920s-1933 alastor #tried to keep it time accurate #dividers by #saradika-graphics

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!

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*****************

You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.

There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.

Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.

Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.

“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.

After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.

“Thanks,” You say.

“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.

“What happened?” Anathema asks.

Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.

“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”

“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”

Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:

“Why did you take the coffee?”

You all look at her, surprised.

“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”

“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”

“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”

“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”

“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”

“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”

“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”

Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.

“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”

-----------

The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.

Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.

“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”

“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”

Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”

“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.

“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”

Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.

“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.

They like holding hands – your insides scream.

--------

When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.

The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.

“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.

-------

The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.

“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.

“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”

“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”

“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”

“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”

“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”

You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.

The Royal Suite.

“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.

“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”

“But this is ridiculous!”

Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.

“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”

“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”

Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fanart #someone said this counts as art #so i'm using the fanart tag #so nyeah #good omens fandom #aziracrow lasts forever #aziraphale x crowley #crowley likes showing off #especially if he knows there's someone there to appreciate his skillz #that's skillz #with a z #fanatic intervention #part 9 #poll fic #let's write #we're all in this together #fix it #go2 #i rode in a cab in nyc once it was terrifying #anathema #crowley and aziraphale #good omens 3 #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Since Oliver has admitted to playing Buck as bi from the beginning, it makes looking back at Buck's relationship with Eddie much more interesting and can make a person wonder if part of Buck was hoping poker night was really hoping it was a poker date. How easily he went along with the Christmas Elf thinking Eddie and Christopher were his family and why he quickly agreed Eddie was cute only to be confused about the fact Maddie was talking about Chimney. A part of him has been attracted to Eddie from the moment they met but he didn't understand those feelings so he just labeled them as things close friends do never stopping to think that most friends don't act like he and Eddie do. It does make me wonder if Buck will realize his feelings for Eddie are more than friendship first but doesn't want to risk losing Eddie, and Christopher tries to get over his romantic feelings for Eddie. Around the same time, Eddie is coming to terms with the fact that he is not straight and trying to figure out why Buck dating Tommy bothers him so much. We are heading towards the Buddie pining era.

Since 7.04 aired I’ve been very firm in my belief that Buck is confused about his feelings. I think his talk with Maddie kinda confused him further and he thought his feelings were about Tommy when it’s always been about Eddie. I mean he mentioned Eddie throughout the entire episode and even said his name like 8??? Times before their kiss. And with Oliver confirming what we’ve all been speculating for years now, a lot of his behavior with and towards Eddie makes so much more sense to me. Like when he didn’t outright deny his boy crush on Eddie, and him immediately thinking Maddie was talking about Eddie when she said “he’s cute”. Then we have moments like him losing it and digging for Eddie with his bare hands then breaking down at the idea of losing Eddie. And when Eddie got shot in front of him and how he was not ok in the least bit. I also think a part of Buck was excited bc he really did think Eddie was taking him out on a date for poker night. So it makes me wonder if he did have an attraction to Eddie that slowly developed into more that he just hasn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge and embrace. I’m under the impression that it is very possible to subconsciously love someone without your brain catching on to that fact. So I think his heart knows he’s always had feelings for Eddie but his brain hasn’t caught onto that.

Which brings me to my next thought. Yes he’s with Tommy right now and we all know Tommy is definitely a plot device of some sort. We never Oliver not mention twice that Tommy is going to help him through this journey a bit and kinda implied they’re gonna be friends, where Tommy’s seen as a mentor of some sort. Now that, to me, doesn’t indicate big love interest at all. So I can see how in the few upcoming episodes, maybe Buck will realize some things that he hasn’t allowed himself to realize. Because I do believe there is a big risk in acknowledging his feelings for Eddie. And there lies that risk of, ok what happens if I do have feelings. What happens to what I already have with him and Christopher? And does he want things to be different bc surely they will be different. So maybe part of Buck doesn’t want to acknowledge that bc he truly doesn’t think there will ever be a moment in which those feelings are reciprocated. So why even bother you know?

But if we do have Eddie questioning everything he’s ever known and repressed, then things get a bit more interesting. It can start off small like Eddie having some feelings about seeing Buck and Tommy together and not liking what he feels. Maybe he’s bothered and jealous and that gets him confused as well. Then there’s the nun of it all bc why is he still with this woman he barely knows and feels nothing for? I could possibly see him questioning things about himself and coming to terms with the fact that he’s not a commitmentphobe bc he’s been committing to Buck since the beginning. I could totally see a pining situation that goes both ways with neither man realizing their feelings reciprocated and neither man wanting to risk what they already have. So I feel like things are being set up so well that we can take next season to really explore their feelings and one or both take that leap of faith to make their feelings known.

But in true 911 fashion, I can totally see another near death experience being the thing that really pushes them to confess lol. Like not a death bed confession. But something that scares them both enough to fucking finally talk to each other about everything they’ve been feeling for a while now. And that talk can very well happen in one of their kitchens which the heart of every home. And bam, we get Buddie finally together!

#juju answers #sweet-Sammy-kisses #buddie #911 spoilers #911 speculation #so so sorry this was so long #if anyone reads this I love you 💜

[heavenlymorals]

(Warning: There are mentions of sexism in this post because I refuse to not acknowledge the time these people were living in and what that entails for men and women.)

The saddest thing about the Arthur and Mary romance is that it didn't happen because they were plagued by the same problem- family in 1800s America and what that entailed for men and women.

In Arthur's case, it was more obvious. He felt he had a debt to the gang, a debt he could never pay back- to Dutch and Hosea, his father figures who saved him, to the men he saw as brothers in arms, to the women he had to take care of and loved, and he could never for once think for a moment that he could also be kind to himself. Arthur Morgan, a strong man, a provider, a protector, someone that people NEEDED. Never once did people in the game ask Arthur what HE wants. It's always about their needs, and Arthur, being who he is, a selfless person to selfish people, would slave away to the ends of the Earth, to hell and back, just to be that pillar that they see him as, for Arthur Morgan is a man who had the world on his shoulders and couldn't, not even once, think about giving that responsibility to another man. He never could. His family consumed him to where his truest self, his most authentic self came only in the thin pages of a leather journal and the voice of lead. His family consumed him and the love he had for Mary, this want to have for once, something truly to himself, was inconceivable. How could he leave them? How? He couldn't. No matter how much he may want to, he just can't.

For Mary? Her family consumed her long ago, as soon as she was born, for she committed the cardinal sin of being born a woman in the 1800s. Whatever ambitions she had, they were impossible. The world made her horribly dependent from the moment she was born. Her prospects was being a lady, knowing department, and securing a marriage for the sake of her family and herself, otherwise, more likely than not, she will be thrusted into poverty or shame or both. And then she met Arthur and he showed her a world beyond the gilded age and she was happy because this love she had for him was her own and her experiences were ones that she wanted, not that her family wanted. She was happy with him, so terribly happy, but her dependence on her family crushed her- socially, economically, culturally. So when her family forced her to marry Mr. Linton, she agreed and forsaked her own love because how could she abandon her family? Her elopement would shame them and make her a disgrace to her sex.

They were both trapped by their families for different reasons but in the end, they decide to put themselves first and it was already too late.

When Mary called for Arthur, it wasn't for him and if it was, she masked it up by asking him for help with her family, the family that she forsaked everything for because how could she not? And Arthur helped. By God, he helped. Not necessarily because he wants to, but that's what love has done to him. It made him the one work stallion out of many who will one day be put down by sheer exhaustion of the weight on its back and the reward of very little. And Arthur would leave and go back to the gang, because how could he leave them?

But after years of abuse, loss of personhood, and the struggles of being a woman in 1800s America, Mary decides to be selfish. She saw how her father saw her as truly less than nothing when he decided to sell a broach that belonged to her beloved mother and then to be passed on to her. All that suffering she went through meant nothing because her father has shamed the family she tried so hard to keep happy and her brother was off to college and was no longer held on by the shackles of the wayward patriarch, Mr. Gillis. She decides to be selfish and asks Arthur to run away with her, so she can finally make do on that proposal long ago to be together, married and happy.

But Arthur then makes the same decision she made all those years ago when he proposed to her. He chooses his family. They need him, but maybe now it's finally over? He can pay his debt to them, have them live happy and free, and then chase his own happiness, his own treasure in the image of a wonderful and beautiful creature by the name of Mary Linton- and maybe in the future, Mary Morgan. After over 20 years- maybe he can be selfish.

But when he realized that these people that he dedicated his life to were draining him of life and hopes and dreams and gave him nothing in return but more troubles, it was too late.

He couldn't let go of these people who ruined him and Mary realized this. Her final letter was a heartfelt goodbye because as she finally broke free of those binds that tied her, Arthur didn't or couldn't. He made the same mistake as she did all those years ago and she couldn't handle such heartbreak anymore, for their souls were slaves to them who didn't deserve it.

And when Arthur finally did break free of those soulful chains, of those people who he loved so deeply, it was too late. Sickness turned a strong man to a husk and as he choked on his blood, he could only get solace from the fact that he tried. He tried to be his authentic self, he tried to be his own man with his own actions, he tried to be good, he tried to change, he tried, and his reward?

Choking and gasping on his blood due to actions in the past he never wanted to do but did anyways because the people he loved asked him to and he just couldn't say no.

Both Mary and Arthur loved each other. Fully and deeply but as their souls were entwined, their bodies and minds were held in bondage by a man's duty to protect and provide and a woman's duty of deportment and honor to families who ruined them. Both of them expect the other to forsake their family for them, but neither of them could do that at the correct time together.

All that remains of that love, true and pure, is Mary's ring on another woman's finger through her wish that Arthur could give the ring to another couple who weren't trapped in the same duty that they were, and that if they were, they had the strength to be selfish.

What a sad, sad story of two poor souls, Arthur Morgan and Mary Linton.

#arthur morgan #mary linton #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #character analysis #story analysis #they make me so sad #they truly did love eachother #but it was never destined to happen due to the duties they had from both their sex #and their “duties” to their families #when they finally decided to be selfish and for once put themselves first instead of their family #it was already too late #😭😞

[furuyalover]

taking care of him at a party

— ft. atsumu miya

AN: just a lil sum while i work my music event drabbles 🤍 also this was soo fun to write so pls request any other characters i should do this for !

your roommate was throwing a party in your shared house, and it was fun at first. however your social battery was running kind of low, and you felt like taking a break anyways. “hey im a little beat, but if you need anything i’ll be in my room” you tell your friend and then you make your way to your room.

you lie down on your bed, and decide to maybe take a small nap to help you feel better. but not even 15 minutes into your nap you hear a soft knock on your door. “come in” you groan, as you readjust yourself so that you can sit up and see whoever’s at your door, expecting your roommate needing assistance with something for the party. but to your surprise, your greeting by three familiar faces, one being a very drunk atsumu miya.

being practically held him by his twin brother and good friend suna, the former embarrassingly says “y/n im so sorry for barging in, but is it ok if we let atsumu take a break here? every other room was occupied and your roommate told us to try here” atsumu was smashed, you could tell that he was shitfaced and it was more like osamu & suna who needed the break.

“what? ok sure yeah whatever. just lay him down over there i guess.” too tired to really even refute their request, you instruct the two to carry their drunken friend on the side of your bed opposite of you. this is where you decide it’s probably time for you to turn in for the night.

you leave atsumu to rest on your bed, and head into your bathroom to change, shower, and what not to get ready for bed. by the time you’re done you chuckle to yourself when you see atsumu is still knocked out on your bed. admittedly, you found it kind of cute to see him like this. peacefully asleep, in his natural state, a change of pace from his usual loud and brash personality, it didn’t help that he was in your bed as well. after placing a glass of water and some tylenol and advil on the nightstand next to him, you sit on your side of your bed and start mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

you text your roommate, updating them on the wild situation you found yourself in. “y/n are u fr rn? this is like the perfect chance for u to confess to him hello??” a smile forms on your face after reading that text, “bro what hell no. that’s so awkward 😭” “ur trippin, worst case scenario u can tell him u we’re js drunk” rolling your eyes at that suggestion, you exit your texts and go back to your scrolling.

a few minutes go by and you feel atsumu shifting in your bed, followed by a slight groan. “oh god where am i” he groans as he rolls over, rubbing his eyes, to face this mysterious figure sat beside him.

“well you’re not downstairs getting shitfaced that’s for sure” you snark with a small chuckle, slightly admiring how cute he looks with his messy hair and flushed face. “oh shit! y/n! is this your room? oh my god did we..?” amused by his slight panic you reassured him that nothing happened, “no no don’t worry, you were absolutely plastered so suna and your brother dropped you off here so you could rest. there’s some tylenol next to you, you should really take some”

she’s such an angel wow, he thought to himself as he took the pain relievers you so kindly prepared for him. “god those assholes, sorry you had to deal with that” he quietly, almost embarrassingly apologizes. giggling at his annoyance you assure him it’s fine and that it’s not a big deal. but then the gears start turning in your head a bit, as you start to develop a lil plan to semi-confess to him.

“the party isn’t probably gonna end for another few hours, so if you want you can just crash here if you want. i can just sleep on the couch or something” almost immediately, a grin plasters on atsumus face, and his usually cocky self is back just like that. “i mean that’s rather rude ya know? i wouldn’t want such an angel who had to take care of a drunken asshole to sleep on the couch. you should probably just sleep in your own bed” he grins as he runs his hands through his messy blonde hair, this bitch knows exactly what he’s doing, you think to yourself.

despite a very obvious blush creeping up on your face you respond, “yeah well i’d feel bad if you had to stay on the couch” scoffing, faking offense to your comment “who said anything about me on the couch? plus i heard cuddling is good for hangovers.” OH HOW I HATE HIM. rolling your eyes you playfully act annoyed, but you couldn’t be any happier

“hm well i always wanted to cuddle with that dumbass from the volleyball team who i have a crush on” you retort with a light laugh. now it’s his turn to blush, already flushed from the alcohol he is now redder than before. “when exactly were you planning on tellling this handsome and talented dumbass?” despite the confident demeanor he was definitely screaming on the inside.

“i figured now would be a good time, but who said anything about handsome and talented.” you reply as you side eye him, but he just can’t help but smile right at you. “so we’re definitely cuddling right?” he asks with a heartful, genuine smile. not being able to deny this lover boy’s smile or even him in general, i mean you’ve liked him for months now, you roll your eyes and respond “ok fine i guess whatever, but find some clothes to change into and take a shower” you laugh as you playfully hit him on his shoulder.

“on it.” he gets up heading downstairs to see if any of his friends have extra clothes they can get him, and to of course tell them about his crush on you. “shit finally, it’s about time you told her you liked her, osamu you owe me $10 and some food” “ok fine suna whatever, but you owe me $5 since he did it while he was drunk.” yes these mfs placed bets on you guys confessing to each other.

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

#game time! #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #hq imagines #hq x you #hq x reader #hq fluff #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu miya headcanons #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya x you #atsumu headcanons #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu fluff

[chopper-witch]

Some Elf!Tav who knew Astarion before he turned. Usage of they/them/theirs to keep it gn, no descriptions of Tav beyond implied pointy ears bc elf…

this is long af btw. And apologies for weird grammar/spelling.

Tav who knew Astarion two centuries ago. They were both part of minor noble households, both houses fading out of existence after the Spellplague, and were more obligatory friends than anything because of all of that. Tav who soon becomes the only member of her household and no one left to Astarion’s. Tav who enters their adult years alone (Astarion isn’t alone for his, of course, but he doesn’t notice when his 110th birthday hits; plus in most ways he is alone).

Tav who gets kidnapped and upon their first meeting after the Nautiloid crash doesn’t recognize Astarion, but he doesn’t recognize them either. Astarion isn’t incredibly common of a name but it’s also not uncommon enough to alert Tav that it’s the Astarion Ancunín she knew as a child. It isn’t until that night when Tav is staring at him across the fire do they start to realize who is sitting across from them.

Tav who doesn’t say anything for a few days - worried they just took too hard of a hit from the crash. That it’s just a misunderstanding on their behalf. Astarion died. They visited his grave out of respect a few times. The Ancunín line died soon after he did. They saw it happen. They were there. They visited his parents, out of obligation of course, and comforted them awkwardly. Their only child gone.

Tav who continues to deny the truth, until Astarion tries to bite them. Well, a few nights after he first bites them, when he begins to open up. The puzzle pieces begin to fit together now that they have more.

Tav who starts off the subject with a “I’m about to sound crazy” and Astarion rolling his eyes and also retorting that he doesn’t want to hear it.

Tav who asks if he is of the family Ancunín, which he has not heard spoken since those 200 years ago. Astarion’s defenses raise immediately and he demands to know where you heard such a thing.

Tav who explains who they are. That they are of a family Astarion once knew well. It takes Astarion a few minutes to understand what they are saying - and if it is even true. He can’t remember his own eye color, how could he possibly remember a person he only befriended out of obligation.

Tav who helps jog his memory with little stories - the times he knocked over an expensive vase in some other nobles house, the time they slammed face first into a door, the time they were both caught sneaking extra desserts. “Treacle tarts,” Tav had chuckled.

Tav who watches as he has the faintest glint of recognition in his eyes. Astarion gasps quietly, before letting out a quiet “you used to have a green bracelet you wore everywhere. Your eldest sister gave it to you for your 10th birthday. Whatever happened to it?”

Tav who pulls out the broken bracelet from their pants pocket. It had broken many, many years ago so they repurposed it into more of a lucky keepsake that could be attached to a belt.

Tav who treats Astarion like they were never apart. They are still incredibly of his boundaries and unusually perceptive to his discomfort, but Astarion practically begs them to keep going sometimes. Leaning their head against him while retelling a memory Astarion long forgot may be uncomfortable for him, but he wants to sit through it.

Tav who tearfully explains what has happened to both their families since he died. How they are both the last ones left. How she went through most of her life alone. But tries to brush it off in comparison to Astarion’s abuse, only for Astarion to remind them that loneliness is loneliness. Fear is fear. Isolation is isolation. It doesn’t matter how it came to be.

Tav who tries desperately to hold out on any romantic advances. It wasn’t hard for them to figure out that Astarion had been used and abused for far worse purposes than he initially let on. They can tell the idea of intimacy makes him quiver with anxiety even if he hides it well. He’s had the same tell for over 200 years. So it’s mostly gentle touches and playful shoves and

Tav who finds themselves being kissed by a desperate Astarion, both still covered in blood - Cazador’s blood - just outside their room at the Elfsong. Everyone else has gone in and Astarion yanked them back and spun them into a kiss.

Tav who worries over him immediately. Something must be wrong with Astarion. Or a surge of post battle high has him out of his right mind. But Astarion explains through barely held back tears that he is finally free. That for the first time ever, even before he was turned, he feels in charge of himself completely. And as long as they want him, he wants them. And he wants to have sex with them as his first real act of freedom. He feels safe with them. He feels at home with them. He feels like he can use his body for what he wants - and he wants them.

Tav who agrees. They’ve spent the past few months falling more and more in love with Astarion. As long as Astarion is truly okay with it, which is confirmed by the little tadpole squirming in their brains, then they are okay with it.

Tav who, after the brain is defeated, doesn’t even know where to start with the rest of their life (beyond following Astarion as the sun burns him). All they know, and all Astarion knows, is that they both want to spend it together.

#inspired by astarions original backgrounds #including noble and courtesan at points #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x gn! reader #astarion x gn!tav #x tav #x gn!tav #also imagine tav as a draconic sorcerer and thats why their family started falling #but obvi anything works really #astarion ancunin #ill add more that is more specific to the specific tav im referring to #but this is a blank one for people to interpret/add on to!!

[barbiewritesstuff]

Glimpses: True Love's Embrace and True Love's Caress (Part two)

Thank you so so much to @ayselluna and @ladyspacey for requesting a part two. It means so much to me ❤️

Not proofread. Never proofread.

He paces in front of your tent, creating a path in the dirt where his feet dragged. Shadowheart is inside, stitching what she can't heal with Lae’zel’s help. The two of them have gotten close, closer than he expected if their sneaking back from that private clearing was any indication…. He tries to distract himself with that, the gossip, the drama he could create if he told Gale but your voice floats his way and he’s back to thinking about you.

You sound a little hoarse, and you speak barely above a whisper when you tell the girls you’re okay. You lie when they ask what happens, your version of events thankfully matching his own, because he'd been too much of a coward to admit to Gale and Karlach that you were wearing the matching magic rings everyone all but made you swear not to wear, and that Astarion hadn’t noticed until he’d been so lost staring at your perfect breasts that he'd gotten stabbed.

But then, where to start if he told the truth? They’d ask why you would give him the ring, something he wasn't so sure about either. There were multiple possibilities of course, one being that you'd realised he was bloody useless in a fight and decided he was the biggest liability. In order to preserve potions and reviving scrolls, you had casted a warding bond over him. That was the answer he liked best. The one that allowed him to turn the pain, grief and absolute terror bubbling inside him like an unsupervised cauldron into anger.

It wasn’t the correct reason of course, and deep down -- and let’s be honest, not so deep down -- he knew it.

There had been a few nights of passion, a couple of stolen moments of heavy petting when searching for loot or simply when no one was around to look, but these seemed overshadowed by the nights he forwent his meditations in favour of spending your watch by your side, sometimes chatting, sometimes not -- There was never the expectation to entertain you, something which, at first, made him wildly uncomfortable but that he now cherished.

There were the mornings you snuck into his tent to do your makeup in front of the only unbroken mirror in camp. You always tried so hard not to “wake” him, but he’d usually pretend to awaken halfway through you applying powder on your eyes -- Placing the blame on his being up on you was easier to admit he woke up specifically to gaze at you applying creams, powders and lipsticks, but at this point, he figures you know anyway. There’s no need to be subtle with you, no need to steal anything, even moments, when you made it clear through repeated actions that whatever he wanted to take, you would give freely, even your own blood.

There was also the matter of loot. How you stole anything that wasn’t nailed down (and some things that were, in fact, nailed down. You’d stolen the nails too) in order to sell and barter your way towards food, armour, trinkets and Karlach’s ever growing collection of Teddy bears. But as soon as Astarion mentioned he liked something, even if it could be bartered for exactly what they needed at that moment, you would give it to him. He tries to stay quiet now after battles, half so he doesn’t arouse suspicion and half because the last time he spoke up, you gave him the trinket that would have bought you the first meal you’d eaten in nearly three days. And yet, shiny, pretty or even ridiculously ugly things he might like and get a kick out of, keep appearing in his tent -- it used to freak him out, how well you knew him, and it still does sometimes, especially when he admits to himself that this all was meant to be manipulative. He was meant to seduce you to gain favour and protection. Fucking you was his ticket to safety, to salvation. And it did get him that, he guesses, it just wasn’t the safety and salvation he bargained for.

The flaps of the tent part and Shadowheart pops her head out.

“She’s fine to see visitors,” she tells him, “She’s still weak but the noise of your pacing was driving us up the wall.”

“Pardon me for being worried,” he says, dramatically placing a hand over his dead heart in emphasis.

Shadowheart humms sceptically, “Worried she might die, or worried you won’t be able to feed?”

Well, he internally scoffs, at least he still has them fooled.

“Speaking of, you’re on a rat diet until she’s fully healed,” Shadowheart adds as he steps into the tent and she and Lae’zel step out.

He wasn’t even thinking of feeding, even with the blood gushing out of your wound, calling his name with every dwindling heartbeat, he’d fought a surprisingly easy fight against his more feral instincts and brought you back to camp. Nothing but worry for your safety and irrational fury had crossed his mind since your injury.

Irrational fury he was now failing to keep down.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He whispers through gritted teeth, “You could have died, you absolute fool. Do you think me so incapable of protecting myself?!” He continues, ignoring the fact that you can hear the grief in his voice. The other two can’t, they haven’t spent enough time with him, but you know him inside out.

You stay quiet, much to his absolute fury.

“I am not a child you need to protect, I am perfectly capable of doing this myself,” he adds, grabbing her wrist in his hand, and sliding the ring off your finger. You open your mouth in protest, but he throws the most genuine glare he can muster your way, and you close your mouth again without speaking.

He pockets your ring, and takes off his own, placing both in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Astarion eventually gives you one of them, tucked inside a letter he gives you before the final battle, and that he asks that you keep on you till the end. It’s his own ring, obviously, and he prays it’ll keep you safe even if you're only carrying it.

#fanfic #fanfiction #original fic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 astarion x tav #bg3 astarion x reader #bg3 astarion fic #bg3 fic #bg3 drabble

[trollbreak]

SITS HERE

#been slowly swinging a pendulum between bill and beastly all day #and um. sits on the floor. bill is able to read folks as well as junie she just. doesn’t really know what to do #with that. sees how Ethann and Beastly are and is like. hm. I’m. not fond of the way you grew up. but one of you treats the topic as a live #explosive and the other can’t seem to conceptualize how anything was wrong. she’s like. that’s not right. but the fuck could I do abt it. #she’s just lingering in a room with Ethann while the both of them work on deparate things in silence. they’re very close because of the. the #‘shows trust by being nearby and letting themself not pay attention to u’ #like the. the making a point to go hey. you’re not a threat to me. and im available if needed. #bill talks to herself while she works sometimes and when she does Ethann comes over to watch. do u fucking KNOW how Ethann is slowly learnin #abt ships and upkeep from this… bill helping him wash grease out of their fur at the end of the night…. beastly doesn’t live with bill ofc #but he’s a regular visitor and bill makes sure to let him know he’s always welcome… sometimes when he’s feeling particularly unmoored her #house is one of the places he goes to find a room to sit in silence for a few hours. maybe nap till things feel a little more real again. #SIGHS ALL BIG #bill 🤝 junie. shes Ur dad #junie is happy for him to be ur mom #bill never signed up for this shit and is sitting there staring into her coffee going hm. wel shit when did that happen. like she’s Gonna be #a helpful figure but she’s also like. when did that happen?

[crispyliza]

You've heard of mansplaining, now get ready for: dadsplaining!

Example: you're filling out paperwork and your dad sits next to you and tells you the answers to questions like: what is your name and last name (he also helps you spell it), when is your birthday, when did you graduate high scool etc.

#this actually happened tk my sister a few years back #she lost her ID card and had to go to the police station early in the morning to aply for a new one #my dad woke me up in like 7 am to go with them in case they needed help with tech stuff (finding the necessary forms online) #he ended up figuring it out by himself and he was very proud #and then went to help out my sister with the paperwork and did what i described above #it reminded me of how captain holt in b99 always informed his husband of his full name when they talked on the phone #and when they were making reservations and holt told kevin how to spell his name #anyways afterwards my dad went to buy coffee and a tiropita as a thank you for the officer thay helped us and fought with my sister #bc she didn't want to bring them to the officer #before he bought the stuff he asked us if we wanted anything and i asked for an iced tea which he forgot :( #so not only was my presence useless i also didn't get anything out if it #but seeing my dad and sister fill out paperwork was pretty funny and i will forever cherish that memory #shitpost #text #crispy talks