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#but I feel like for every bad thing about them I said out loud there were three more bad things I didn't share
lowgothree · 3 days
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❜
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chapter no. 001!          
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𝗈𝗈𝗈.               ⠀CONTENT : paige “with” another girl (for the plot). reader is so terribly down bad. also, i don’t proofread so if you see typos or grammar mistakes i’m sorry. and this chapter is kinda boring but it's necessary soo.
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 1.5k
𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : yall seemed to like the prologue so i hope yall like this too!!
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THEY’RE KISSING. and she’s enjoying it, by the looks of it. you can tell because she’s doing that thing where she pulls the other person closer like they could never be close enough. the thing she used to do to you. 
it’s almost comical that the first time you see paige again, she’s kissing some other girl with eyes like yours outside the diner where you and the girls were. she thinks she’s being sneaky (she’s not). she always thought she was sneaky, you remember that much. in fact, you somehow remember everything about the blonde except what her lips tasted like. so of course you’re a little jealous, feeling a bit out of the loop. that’s normal. right? and maybe definitely it’s stupid to mourn so deeply over a relationship that you ended but, whatever, you can’t help that you miss her.
there was nothing human about the feeling, it was more like a typhoon or a volcanic eruption, something so completely out of your control. it was purely sickening…but whenever you see the peroxide-blonde with someone new, you  find yourself apprehensively scanning their hair, their skin, the words that they would say –– always finding a hint of yourself within them. the delusional part of you wanted that to mean she still wanted you, but logic said that maybe she just started having a type. but then you’d think back to before…the paige before you never had a specific type. but since you? there’s an unmistakable one. but that’s not enough proof that she still feels for you. in fact, it’s nothing. it’s hard not to see yourself when you’re actively looking for it. you’d keep up with the torture by staring at paige kissing that girl through the window but then you feel a sharp kick to your shin from underneath the table. 
“stop staring, perv.” nika mutters, rolling her eyes lightly. although nika was one of the few people who knew about the dead relationship, she didn’t know that your feelings for paige still lingered. she only knew what paige told her, that the two of you were friends.
“i wasn’t ––”
“you were.”
okay –– maybe you were. you sigh silently to yourself, taking a sip of your milkshake. this is the first time you’re actually hanging out with your friends together rather than just one on one (which you only did because you didn’t want to see paige). the two of you agreed to be friends but that was clearly not going to happen. however, you felt bad for denying your friends every time they asked to spend time with you. so, you sucked up your pride. you could spend an hour in paige’s presence, it wouldn’t kill you. at least not literally.
angel, a redhead who shares a dorm with nika and a major with you, is sitting in between azzi and you. she’s eyeing you carefully, after all, the two of you are very close and she knows why you and paige broke up. she also knows that you still care about her. her gaze is simultaneously suffocating and protective.
“...are you okay?” she whispers only loud enough for you to hear. you simply nod, munching on your fries trying not to look out of the window again. in truth, your head was spinning. you haven’t seen paige face to face since the breakup. you were hoping you’d never have to again…
then she finally enters, walking up to the booth. every step she takes is just as confident as they always are. her hair is down, running across the length of her back. her eyes meet yours, they’re more familiar than your own name. her beauty is still unquestionable –– but you wouldn’t admit it. it would make looking away from her even more difficult. so instead you pretend not to look as she sits down at the booth right next to nika…right in front of you. she pokes nika’s side just to piss her off  before snatching a fry from angel’s plate and dipping it in her own milkshake. angel rolls her eyes but says nothing.
“that’s disgusting.” nika turns up her nose as paige bites it. 
“don’t knock it till you try it.” paige dramatically licks her fingers. nika makes a fist, gently hitting the table a few times with her knuckles. you chuckle at nika’s attitude.
“what are you giggling about? you used to like it too.” paige mutters, smiling lightly but her words send a pang to your chest. nobody else seems to catch the bitterness in her tone….but you do. her eyes look almost guilty when she sees the sharp intake of breath you take. but before she could say anything else, you look away. you avoid her eye contact like it’s deadly.
nika clears her throat, eventually sensing the tension, and turns her attention to azzi whose eyes are close and head is rested against the booth. “you okay?”
“mhm…just really tired.” she mutters, opening her eyes to sip her lemonade. 
you chuckle. “i bet you are, we stayed up all last night studying.”
“finals?” angel questions.
“yeah…” azzi mumbles.
“can we please not talk about that right now?” paige groans.
“says you, scholar athlete.” azzi mutters, rolling her eyes at the blonde.
“she’s too busy with that girl to focus on studying these days.” nika chuckles. angel looks over at you for a quick moment but you keep your gaze steady on your plate.
you nearly jump out of your skin trying to relax your tensing shoulders before someone notices. you ended things with her…she couldn’t even call you her girlfriend. so why did it hurt so much to even hear of someone else in your place? this wasn’t exactly the plan, you were meant to move on by now. but seeing her…again…all you can wonder is what she’s thinking about right now.
“who? cleo?” paige snorts. “we’re not talking about that either.”
cleo. cleo. the girl who just had her tongue down paige’s throat no less than ten minutes ago. you feel sick to your stomach at the mention but you hide it well, then you feel sicker when you think about how pathetic it is that you even felt this way to begin with. it’s just another indignity among many.
“why not?” nika mutters. “it’s more interesting than talking about studying.”
“true.” azzi adds.
paige looks over at you, her way of saying that she’s not going to talk about another girl in front of you. “where’s aubrey?” 
you appreciate the conversation shift even if you know it’s in vain. they want to know about this mystery girl and honestly, so do you.
“late.” nika mutters.
“i ordered her food for her.” angel smiles softly. 
“and she’s gonna wanna talk about the girl too.” azzi chuckles. angel’s leg shakes underneath the table, she’s clearly empathetic for you. she knows the girls don’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that it is hurting you. you wanted to relax her, make her feel less guilty for not saying anything even if she wasn’t participating in the conversation.
so you chuckle lightly, pretending to be completely fine and say, “can you please be still?”
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“can you please be still?” you sigh softly, braiding her hair in its signature style. paige is sitting in front of you on the bed with her legs crossed. she has a game later, and she asked you to braid her hair for her. 
“you’re pretty.” paige mumbles as you finish up her first braid, still squirming at your touch. 
for a second you almost forget yourself, paige being damn near sickeningly sweet. she seems to notice how her words have temporarily struck you, pride swelling within her since she loves making you happy. 
you shrug it off and remember that her back is facing you, so you chuckle at her commenting on your appearance. “you can’t even see me.”
“i don’t have to. i’m thinking about how your face looks right now.” she turns back to look at you over her shoulder. “pretty.”
you bite back a smile, turning her head back so you can braid the other side. “you’re corny, you know that?”
“i’m enamored.”
“oh, someone learned a new word.” you snort, continuing braiding her hair, being as gentle as you can with her. (though it gets increasingly difficult when she won’t stop moving).
“shut up.” she mutters. “i’m super smart.”
you finish braiding her hair, tapping her side to let her know that you’re done and she can go look. she stands up from the bed, long legs taking her to the dresser which has a mirror over it, she eyes her braids carefully. “they’re a little crooked, babe.”
you roll your eyes. “cause you wouldn’t stop mo––”
she turns back your way, walking back to you. paige towers over you while you sit on the bed, she puts a hand under your chin and kisses you. “i’m joking. they’re perfect. thank you, baby.”
“anything for you…” you whisper back and your words make her smile. it’s wide and toothy –– the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
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auspicioustidings · 3 days
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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 4
A Prayer in the Prospect of Death
Summary: The years pass and you find out how Simon feels about you before a familiar face arrives. Words: 2.8k
Parts: 1 2 3 4
“Tell me luv.”
Simon had his fingers tucked under your chin to tilt your head up so you could no longer easily hide. Urgh he was so bloody perceptive. 
“It’s silly.”
“You’re always silly, now tell me.”
You fought the urge to blow a raspberry at him. He was truly the most stubbornly protective human you had ever met and he never just let things go if you said it was fine. He always knew when something was bothering you despite your attempts to hide it. 
“What am I supposed to do when Joey starts nursery?”
You sighed and dropped any attempt to hide how miserable the thought made you. When you and Johnny had gotten married you had decided that you’d be a stay at home mum. You didn’t have a career you were attached to and Johnny made enough to support the household. Honestly you had come to enjoy it in the last year. You decorated your home for every holiday, experimented in the kitchen until you were actually a very good home cook and baker, always felt safe and content with how well you knew your own space and how cosy and clean you kept it. 
It was never how you imagined yourself if you were honest, a homemaker. The idea of you actually sort of enjoying cleaning would have made you feel somewhat ill 5 years ago. But now you were in your own home with a toddler you loved to death and, though you often were reluctant to admit it out loud, a man you loved to death. You had been front and centre for all of Joey’s firsts and you wouldn’t trade that for anything. 
Simon missed his first steps. Johnny had been fine doing video calls while he was on base during off hours, but you didn’t even have the number of Simon’s work phone. It used to frustrate you that it felt like he didn’t even exist the moment he left for work, but he had spoken about his family on your first Christmas together and it made you understand. He would never carry anything on him as the Ghost that could link back to you, even in the relative safety of the base during downtime. 
Now Joey would be out of the house for most of the day. You could have waited, not sent him to nursery and just kept him home until school, but you knew it would be for your sake rather than his. He loved being around other kids and some of the friends he had made from you taking him to every toddler group in the area in an attempt to be a good mother would be starting nursery as well. 
Could you just do nothing all day? Between Johnny’s insurance and death in service benefits and Simon insisting on funnelling money in, you could certainly afford it now, but it felt so wrong when Johnny was dead and Simon was doing the exact job that had killed him.
“What do you mean? You do the same as you do right now if you’re still happy doing it but without him.”
“Lounge around and do nothing while you are out risking your life you mean.”
Simon considered, always careful to think the situation through rather than reply impulsively. He was annoyed with himself for not seeing sooner that you were undervaluing yourself, only considering taking care of Joey which was a full time job in itself as contributing. While it had been a source of bitter guilt in the beginning, he had started to forget how much younger you were than him. He really should have seen it, no woman in her early 20s saw her full worth. 
“Princess, you decorated this whole house while I was deployed and you’re the one that fixes things or organises for them to be fixed when they break. You cook almost all our meals from scratch and then make extra to donate to the community kitchen. The garden is immaculate because you follow the planting plan you made yourself and are out there doing maintenance every day. You do not now nor have you ever lounged about doing nothing, even if I would like it if you did.”
He already felt bad enough about it. When he was home he threw himself in, tried to take as much off of you as possible even when he was nowhere near as fast or good at things. If anything he was contributing nowhere near enough money to cover all the full time jobs you were gracefully juggling (only because it had already been a fight to accept any money at all, he gave you what you accepted and then put almost the rest of his pay into an account for Joey).
“Shut up!” you whined, battering fists against his chest as your face flamed. 
You had lived together now for just around 3 years. You had been intimately involved for 2. It still absolutely floored you when he was nice to you and made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was so ridiculous to feel like some wide eyed teen with a crush when it came to this idiot. Unfortunately his favourite hobby was fucking with you when you were taken off guard like this.
“Aww baby girl, you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me and Joe don’t you? We’d fall apart without you beautiful” he said in a smooth rumble, peppering kisses across your cheeks and down your neck. 
It wasn’t fair that he could just tease you with a version of him that adored you. A version that you enjoyed even if you didn’t really think it was real. Sure there had been a maybe ‘I love you’ years ago after all that sexual tension broke and he seemed to be happy enough, but you could only imagine that if he ever knew how you felt about him he would run. The last 3 years you had fought at every turn to protect your heart, but you had stopped denying at least to yourself that it was pathetically his now.  
“Don’t do that.”
“You don’t want praise and kisses?”
He raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a small smile. You loved praised and kisses, he knew that because in the bedroom he could use that to turn you into a pile of obedient princess who did whatever he said if it would earn you his adulation. But it was just sex wasn’t it? 
“I don’t want you to pretend.”
He was confused by that and you wanted to sink into the floor to avoid this conversation. You had been avoiding it for a while now. 
“I… fuck. Simon, I don’t- it’s not just sex to me” you choked out, not sure how to put it into words without straight out admitting that you were hopelessly in love with him and wanted him in you and J’s lives permanently. 
“Christ, you pretty little idiot” he growled, grabbing your face roughly in his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you. I’m not Johnny, I don’t do big romantic gestures. I’m not the kind of man to tell you all the time how I feel. I’m the kind of man who is a selfish bastard because I don’t give a fuck if you deserve someone who does. You are mine. You have been for years. Do you understand me?”
You could only blink wide-eyed as your brain tried to catch up with the whole world restarting itself after the shock.  
“Do you understand me?” he snapped. 
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl… wanna get married?”
You stuttered out an outraged shout, feeling the tears that had been building drying up at the audacity of this man. 
“Johnny took me to the cabin. He made me a replica of the first dinner we had together and set the table outside during the sunset. He organised for fireworks!”
“Told you I don’t do romantic gestures.”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine, let’s get married Casper. You’re the fucking worst.”
“Don’t I know it princess. I’m not wearing a tie.”
“Then I’m not wearing a dress.”
“Yes you bloody well are!”
“Wanna bet?!”
-
He did not wear a tie, but Joey did. Your dress was beautiful. Gaz officiated your wedding for the second time. Price said there was an emergency so he couldn’t make it - you weren’t really sure you believed him.
-
As you cleared up after the whirlwind that was breakfast in a house with a 9 year old late for school, you sighed and stuck on a heat patch. You were starting to wonder if being off birth control was maybe a little pointless because in the past 18 months it had only reminded you how much you hated periods after years of them being gone as a useful side effect.
It had been something you were speaking about since you got married. You had always wanted more kids. Simon had never even expected he’d have one. You were terrified of a repeat of your first pregnancy, he was terrified that his genes were poisonous. You had enough money with his hefty pay and your small business (you had started it up soon after Joey had started nursery and you got a lot of orders for events, birthdays and weddings for sets of biscuits. You imagined wherever Johnny was he was howling with laughter that you had turned into a home baker after all the kitchen disasters he had seen). 
In the end it had been Joseph who made the decision. One shrugged mention of how he thought it’d be nice to have a little sibling and that was that. There was not one thing in the whole wide world you and Simon would not give him if it was in your power. Although you were starting to think it wasn’t in your power at all. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t have an active sex life and in honesty it had only gotten more active from the breeding kink Simon had uncovered as soon as it was a possibility. But it just hadn’t happened. 
You wondered if it was better that it hadn’t, at least until Joey was 10. That was when you had agreed you would tell him everything. On advice of a psychologist you had told him that Simon wasn’t his biological father very early on, as early as he could understand the concept, although stressed he was still his dad. The only thing you mentioned about his biological father was that he had died even though that was very much against the psychologists advice, she had said to tell him everything about Johnny.
But in 4 months he would turn 10 and he knew that you would answer his questions then. It was shitty of the two of you really, to hide Johnny until now. Joey’s grandmother still saw him, but she never talked about her son or who he was. It was cowardice. Simon had been speaking with a therapist for years about how to let go of the idea that Johnny died because he couldn’t save him. You felt ill at the idea of your son knowing you had married his dead father’s best friend. Both of you were so scared of Johnny’s ghost that you kept him from his son for nearly a decade. 
Well sort of. Joey knew who Johnny was, just not that he was his father. There were photos of him in the house. Whenever Gaz, Price and their partner (that had been a whole drama, but you were happy the three of them finally worked it out) were around, sometimes they would reminisce about him. Well Gaz and Simon did, Price would just look pained and excuse himself to get a drink.
You could only hope that Joey wouldn’t hate you, but then he was such a great kid. A little wild, but incredibly kind and empathetic beyond his years. He had Johnny’s eyes. You thought that he’d understand when you explained it all. Maybe he’d yell at you for thinking he would blame you for falling in love with his dad, but he’d understand. 
You focused on cleaning up and getting the kitchen back clean and cosy how you liked it, deciding not to borrow worries from the future.
Price had told him to settle his arse down in the base and let him travel down and talk to him before he went anywhere. Johnny ignored him. He had just saved the fucking world, there was not one thing that was going to keep him from his wife and child one second longer.
He had debriefed already, been medically cleared to leave. He knew the paperwork was going to be horrendous given that he was legally dead, but frankly he’d leave it for the intelligence agencies to deal with given how much of a big bloody favour he had just done them. He got your address off of them given that Price hadn’t given it to him, just telling him to wait until he got there. Fuck that.
It didn’t take too long to get himself there. It was oddly comforting hearing all the English accents after a decade of hearing almost entirely Russian even if he’d be moving your pretty arse back North of the border as soon as he could. Not a chance was his family living in Carlisle. He wondered why you would move that far from the Highlands where his family was. You had always been no contact with your own family, maybe you had reconciled with them and moved to be closer? 
He would find out. Whatever it was he’d support you. God he loved you, he had missed you so fucking much. He had imagined the reunion for years, thought of your smile and your laugh when he needed to remind himself what he was fighting for, thought of your soft skin and tight pussy when he needed to relieve some tension with his right hand. Whenever he sent up a prayer in the prospect of death, it was for you that he prayed he would survive.
He thought of how he’d hold you for days when he got back. He knew you would have raised a wonderful son and he could not wait to meet the person he had become. He’d hold him as well, spend days cuddled up and watching movies with his family. 
And then he’d take you to the cabin and lose himself in your body. Fuck it was strange to think he’d have to consider it wasn’t just you two anymore. He didn’t want to lose any time with his son, but he needed alone time with you as well. He’d work it out. 
The house was nice, sort of quaint with the pretty flowers both real and painted on the door. It hurt knowing if he hadn’t been away you’d have something bigger. You would have had to for a growing family. 
He wished he had stopped and gotten a change of clothes and a haircut. He was in military issued sweats and a hoodie and his hair had grown out to curl around his ears. He really should have shaved as well, a task he hadn’t had time for in the chaos of the last few months. But fuck it, he was here and he couldn’t wait. 
It was almost like an out of body experience knocking on the door, knowing he was seconds away from you. He should have realised that there was another person around who could answer the door, but he hadn’t been thinking. The Joseph he knew was a tiny baby, not a bright eyed kid with a toothy grin in a football strip (a bloody Man U strip at that, Johnny just knew his uncle Simon would have had a hand in that and it made him grin knowing his best friend was still in his son’s life).
“Ye got big!” he belted, excited beyond proper introductions at seeing his son. 
The kid furrowed his brows for a moment before he brightened with recognition. Johnny assumed now was about the time for crying and yelling and hugging. He was unprepared for the alternative. 
“I know you! You’re dad’s Sergeant! I thought you died.”
His heart lurched, putting the dots together well before his brain could. 
“Joe hurry it up! We’ll miss kick-off!”
Johnny knew that voice. It was not yours. 
“I’m ready!”
“You better be! Right, who’s at the door then?”
The voice got closer and even though he wanted to run Johnny was rooted to the spot. It felt like the next 10 seconds as the footsteps and voice came closer was hours. The door swung wider open as a hand pulled on it from behind and then he was looking into the eyes of Simon Riley. The silence was deafening until Johnny broke it.
“What the fuck did you do Si!”
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sceirlose · 2 days
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I feel like all the Skittles have SOME sort of weird thing that's going on with them. Tw mentions of blood and dissecting
Barty is batshit crazy. Wild, messy, and all over the place. Almost terrifying. He makes ur mom jokes and threatens to kill or hurt or fuck someone who's messing with him. He also learned how to do his own tatoos and piercings, thats why he has a new tattoo or piercing every month. He finds it fun and silly to be stabbing his ear and shoving a piercing through it, likes the sting cause it gives him adrenaline
And there's Pandora who says the most out of pocket shit. She has weird visions sometimes and seems to be everywhere and knows everything. And she's so incredibly calm while saying the wildest shit ever that it scares some people. People never hear her footsteps, and she just shows up randomly. Her voice is so calm and peaceful that it really doesn't fit her liking in scary creatures
Then Evan, who is just as off-putting as his sister. Unlike Barty, who is chaotic, he's more reserved and calm. But sometimes does creepy stuff and acts like it's normal. He is weirdly fascinated with disecting humans and animals. Also has a weird interest in teeth and dead animal corpses. He probably learned how to preserve them somehow. He has a like thing where dead butterflies are stuck to and he wakes up everyday to admire it as a way to start his day.
Dorcas has an interest in lucid dreaming and shifting and all things psychological. Sometimes she'll say stuff like "oh I sent a message to you in your dreams, you got it, right?" Most of the time, you probably won't get it, but it happens sometimes. Mostly to the slytherin Skittles and Marlene. She also learned to do nonverbal spells earlier in her years because it helps give her more control over her own mind. She has definitely learned and did research on why the imperius curse does what it does to its victims
And Regulus, though never to admit out loud, fucking loves astrology. He learned about it through Pandora, and since then he's been doing astrological readings. He just finds it cool how something like a time of birth, the position of a planet, the moon phase of your birth, and all can say a lot about a person.
Anyways it might not fit some characters but it's how I think of them and I love them this way cause imagine like Pandora walking up to Barty and say "certain plants can bloom above dead corpses" and Barty suggests that they have to see it happen for themselves
Or Dorcas coming up reg like "did you get my message?" And Regulus said "yeah, it's written in the stars that your relationship will go well don't worry and stop pestering me in my dreams"
Or Barty making a new piercing and Evan suggesting that he should make a piercing out of one of his insects legs and Barty was really close to doing it before Reg stopped them
Or Regulus catching squirrels for Pandora to keep in her little squirrel cage and have as a pet that'll probably die because Evan keeps feeding it the wrong food
Sometimes, the Skittles all get hurt except for Dorcas, and she says stuff like "yeah because the universe is protecting me. I'm their favourite mortal"
Barty getting slightly unsettled and maybe a bit flustered when he sees Evan so focused on learning how to use his new dissecting tool, just tweaking it here and there for his own liking yk
Regulus in a bad mood cause today's horoscope says that it's going to be shit.
Yeah they're weird
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clairellie · 5 hours
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hii !! first off. love your blog ?? need to read your abby fic !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻 and i saw you took requests. so um. hear me out, mixing the streamer!ellie with some abby x reader content.
streamer!ellie who decides to invite her two best friends to play games and stream. abby and reader being close to each other, abby encouraging reader, cheering for her while being a dick to ellie. "you got it, you got it!" she'd say to reader as she plays. "you fuckin' moron! you lost!" she'd say to ellie. anyway !! chat starts to notice how sweet abby and reader are to each other and ellie reads them what people say. omg. and maybe after the stream, abby decides to take reader on a date?? sorry if this is messy. just thought it'd be cute !! mwaaah 🫶🏻🫶🏻💌
OUR CUPIDS . . .
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a/n: i loveedddd this idea!! sorry if this seems bad, this was done in like 15 minutes.
includes: streamer!ellie with sweet!abby but also mean!abby..? y/n used once!!! abby being bad down.
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"okay, so today, i invited 2 of my friends to play a few games with us. abby, and y/n. uhm, we decided to play a few games of fortnite, so no call of duty today. you all know y/n right, and abby, right?"
ellie was staring off into space as you and abby introduced yourself, looking at a few posters up on her wall, surrounded by a shelf full of figures.
ellie was seated in the middle, abby on the left of ellie, and you on the right of ellie. ellie didn't want you two to sit next to eachother. she despised those moments when abby was only focused on you. always helping you figure out where everyone is, reminding you to pick up some loot, and so on. she never did any of those things to ellie, because she was already "good."
as ellie was talking to chat a bit, needing help with choosing her skin before you and abby joined in. once abby finished helping you, although she was honestly just talking to you.. she sat back down in her seat and loaded in the game as you did.
ellie had a peely skin, and you had the poison ivy skin on as abby had midas on. abby said you two "had the same vibe." she liked how your two skins complimented each other, and looked like you were sort of matching, just a tiny bit.
"oh! get that loot right there." "you got it!" "reload real quick.. yeah, now shoot him in the head." abby was always cheering you on as you played. ellie side eyeing chat, knowing that theres some kind of vibe between you and abby.
it took a while for the match to end, none of you getting a #1 royale. somehow, ellie died first. you and abby kept looking at each other almost every time ellie did one of her high-pitched screams or loud ass gasps. then you died. then abby died.
"HAH, you fuckin lost." abby said in a joking manner. ellie was pisseddd off. she couldnt believe the fact that she died first. it was usually you who died first, but ellie?! "you can shut the fuck up abby" "well i wont."
you had forgotten about chat. completely forgetting that people were watching you play a game. ellie looked over at chat, a few things caught her eye.
"THE WAY ABBY LOOKS AT HER?!" "they should js get married alreadyyy." "plz dont start the ships again."
ellie grinned, ammused by the way chat is obsessed with you and abbys relationship. "chat loves yall together, start dating already."
abby looked at her with a confused face, "excuse me....?" "look at chat. the way you look at her, the way you speak to her compared to me? come on now!"
you looked over at abby, thinking about what it would be like to date her. you now realize you already had some feelings for her.. but those got stronger. you would love the feeling of abby's lips on top of yours, the feeling of her hands holding your waist...
time went by quickly now that you werent really focused any more. a few minutes later, ellie shuts off the stream. "yall wanna get some food realllyyy quick?" ellie asked, now standing up. "yeah just give us a sec." abby said, getting her shoes put on and her leather jacket.
abby looked at you, "you wanna go on a date with me?" you stared at her, confused and in shock now. how could this all happen so fast? first you were just hanging out with eachother, then you find out you reallyyy like her, and now she feels the same way?!!
"i-i mean sure! i would love that."
"what time works best for ya?"
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da-proti-toku-grem · 16 days
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why can't anyone understand that everyone is different and not everyone likes the same things and that it's completely okay AND normal for someone not to like going out and preferring to stay at home :/
#honestly i understand that my parents care about me and they don't want me to be feeling bad#and that they ask me bc they just want to make sure i'm okay#but i've explained to them what i feel like and they just don't get and i get mad but i akso know it's not their fault and just... oughhhhh#like yeah i have a weird kind of social anxiety according to my therapist and even she doesn't know exactly how to help me yet#but there are just so many reasons behind why i don't like going out and it's not just bc it gives me anxiety#or why those situations give me anxiety in the forst place#1. i'm just a very introverted person that doesn't like going out#2. crowded places/closed spaces/places where there's not enough ventilation/loud places (be it people talking or just music) overwhelme me#3. all said in 2 + flashing lights give me huge migraines that can linger for over 3 days#4. i am very much a night owl and i'm forced to live in a society where that isn't fucking acceptable apparently and i'm called lazy for -#- not being productive in the morning when the only reason behind it is that i am a lot more productive at night#but no one ket's me do that bc 'why are you doing stuff when you're supposed to be asleep?'#i have been the same since i was little. literally nothing has changed#and people where always like 'oh she's just shy'#but idk wtf changed#maybe it was that i became and 'adult' or maybe the fact that i started therapy and they told my parents that i have social anxiety. idk#but suddenly every single person in my family is worried about it and they're genuinely making me feel like there's smth wrong about me#i mean. i have my problems i'm not gonna go telling you that i'm perfect bc i'm pretty much not#but is there really smth that wrong with me that i need to fix#or is society just a bitch that doesn't understand that there's different kinds of people and everyone is different & IT'S COMPLETELY OKAY#have they ever thought about the fact that maybe these situations cause me anxiety bc i've been forced all my life to do them#even if i don't like them#instead of thinking that i don't like them BC they cause me anxiety??#i mean. i know i have to go out more and that there's tons of things i can do ofc#but you can't just force me to do things i don't want to and put on a good face while doing it *every.fucking.day*#aaaaand i could add a lot more things but i'm once again reaching the tag limit so i shoukd just shut up#it's just driving me crazy bc i know they're trying to help but it really is not helping at all.............#ranting
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running-in-the-dark · 5 months
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I want to be someone who has smart and interesting things to say about shows/movies that I like - like when I tried to convince my friends that they really need to watch Leverage. that would have been useful! instead I'm just like 'it's sooo good I like it so much I love all the characters they're all so awesome 🥰'
my thoughts are generally just like.
ooh he soo prettyyy. I want to braid his hair. hehe he punched someone. look at his lil face 🥰 baby boi. pretty smile his mouth is so nice I like his teeth. chest hair. hands! arms arms arms �� his eyes are so pretty. oooh blood on his face, blood on his face! he's growling. annd his voice is all raspy again. I wonder [many many redacted thoughts]. ooh now he's in danger oh noo 😏
there's a bunch of 'she's so pretty' and 'I love her' somewhere in between all that too but mostly it's just. very, very stupid
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Getting annoyed with myself because I'm looking for validation for breaking up with my ex YET AGAIN
#it's probably because we're coming up to a year post breakup#like not super soon I guess but end of next month#idk like#yes they absolutely did treat me like shit#but did I overreact?#the answer is very much no#bc again#they treated me like absolute fucking garbage#but we had known each other for fourteen years#I guess in my mind I should have kept going because we had been making it work for so long#but like they literally tried to steal my then fiancé now husband#his and my relationship was so strained during the worst of the ex#but now he and I are better than ever so I won#maybe I need to find and reblog that post I made about them#just to like... prove to myself that yes it really really really REALLY was that bad#my husband saw it my work mom saw it my wife saw it my friends all saw it#but I feel like for every bad thing about them I said out loud there were three more bad things I didn't share#so anything I've posted literally isn't even the half of it#James is reminding me that it was literally soul sucking bc I was soooooooooooo miserable every moment around them#plus nothing else should matter except they didn't even respect the ONE boundary I set for them for the time they lived with me#all I asked was please don't use my desk bc that's the only thing that's mine until you move out#my desk is where I do my arts and crafts so it's always got some sort of supplies or materials on it#stuff that ya know is pretty important to me#guess how I found them one night. guess.#sitting at my fucking desk with a bowl of fucking ramen playing their stupid fucking computer#LITERALLY THE ONLY BOUNDARY PEOPLE#I'm sorry I know I'm just rambling in the tags but like I'm just really fucking annoyed at myself for how much I put up with
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cookinguptales · 1 year
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So I’ve been enjoying the Disney vs. DeSantis memes as much as anyone, but like. I do feel like a lot of people who had normal childhoods are missing some context to all this.
I was raised in the Bible Belt in a fairly fundie environment. My parents were reasonably cool about some things, compared to the rest of my family, but they certainly had their issues. But they did let me watch Disney movies, which turned out to be a point of major contention between them and my other relatives.
See, I think some people think this weird fight between Disney and fundies is new. It is very not new. I know that Disney’s attempts at inclusion in their media have been the source of a lot of mockery, but what a lot of people don’t understand is that as far as actual company policy goes, Disney has actually been an industry leader for queer rights. They’ve had policies assuring equal healthcare and partner benefits for queer employees since the early 90s.
I’m not sure how many people reading this right now remember the early 90s, but that was very much not industry standard. It was a big deal when Disney announced that non-married queer partners would be getting the same benefits as the married heterosexual ones.
Like — it went further than just saying that any unmarried partners would be eligible for spousal benefits. It straight-up said that non-same-sex partners would still need to be married to receive spousal benefits, but because same-sex partners couldn’t do that, proof that they lived together as an established couple would be enough.
In other words, it put long-term same-sex partners on a higher level than opposite-sex partners who just weren’t married yet. It put them on the exact same level as heterosexual married partners.
They weren’t the first company ever to do this, but they were super early. And they were certainly the first mainstream “family-friendly” company to do it.
Conservatives lost their damn minds.
Protests, boycotts, sermons, the whole nine yards. I can’t tell you how many books about the evils of Disney my grandmother tried to get my parents to read when I was a kid.
When we later moved to Florida, I realized just how many queer people work at Disney — because historically speaking, it’s been a company that has guaranteed them safety, non-discrimination, and equal rights. That’s when I became aware of their unofficial “Gay Days” and how Christians would show up from all over the country to protest them every year. Apparently my grandmother had been upset about these days for years, but my parents had just kind of ignored her.
Out of curiosity, I ended up reading one of the books my grandmother kept leaving at our house. And friends — it’s amazing how similar that (terrible, poorly written) rhetoric was to what people are saying these days. Disney hires gay pedophiles who want to abuse your children. Disney is trying to normalize Satanism in our beautiful, Christian America. 
Just tons of conspiracy theories in there that ranged from “a few bad things happened that weren’t actually Disney’s fault, but they did happen” to “Pocahontas is an evil movie, not because it distorts history and misrepresents indigenous life, but because it might teach children respect for nature. Which, as we all know, would cause them all to become Wiccans who believe in climate change.”
Like — please, take it from someone who knows. This weird fight between fundies and Disney is not new. This is not Disney’s first (gay) rodeo. These people have always believed that Disney is full of evil gays who are trying to groom and sexually abuse children.
The main difference now is that these beliefs are becoming mainstream. It’s not just conservative pastors who are talking about this. It’s not just church groups showing up to boycott Gay Day. Disney is starting to (reluctantly) say the quiet part out loud, and so are the Republicans. Disney is publicly supporting queer rights and announcing company-supported queer events and the Republican Party is publicly calling them pedophiles and enacting politically driven revenge.
This is important, because while this fight has always been important in the history of queer rights, it is now being magnified. The precedent that a fight like this could set is staggering. For better or for worse, we live in a corporation-driven country. I don’t like it any more than you do, and I’m not about to defend most of Disney’s business practices. But we do live in a nation where rights are largely tied to corporate approval, and the fact that we might be entering an age where even the most powerful corporations in the country are being banned from speaking out in favor of rights for marginalized people… that’s genuinely scary.
Like… I’ll just ask you this. Where do you think we’d be now, in 2023, if Disney had been prevented from promising its employees equal benefits in 1994? That was almost thirty years ago, and look how far things have come. When I looked up news articles for this post from that era, even then journalists, activists, and fundie church leaders were all talking about how a company of Disney’s prominence throwing their weight behind this movement could lead to the normalization of equal protections in this country.
The idea of it scared and thrilled people in equal parts even then. It still scares and thrills them now.
I keep seeing people say “I need them both to lose!” and I get it, I do. Disney has for sure done a lot of shit over the years. But I am begging you as a queer exvangelical to understand that no. You need Disney to win. You need Disney to wipe the fucking floor with these people.
Right now, this isn’t just a fight between a giant corporation and Ron DeSantis. This is a fight about the right of corporations to support marginalized groups. It’s a fight that ensures that companies like Disney still can offer benefits that a discriminatory government does not provide. It ensures that businesses much smaller than Disney can support activism.
Hell, it ensures that you can support activism.
The fight between weird Christian conspiracy theorists and Disney is not new, because the fight to prevent any tiny victory for marginalized groups is not new. The fight against the normalization of othered groups is not new.
That’s what they’re most afraid of. That each incremental victory will start to make marginalized groups feel safer, that each incremental victory will start to turn the tide of public opinion, that each incremental victory will eventually lead to sweeping law reform.
They’re afraid that they won’t be able to legally discriminate against us anymore.
So guys! Please. This fight, while hilarious, is also so fucking important. I am begging you to understand how old this fight is. These people always play the long game. They did it with Roe and they’re doing it with Disney.
We have! To keep! Pushing back!
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inkskinned · 1 year
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something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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prettyfastcars · 2 months
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triggered | Mob!Lando
Summary: The two of you had broken up just weeks ago, and it was mainly his fault. But no matter how hard he tried to win you back, you never gave him the opportunity to. Lando hadn’t heard from you or seen you at all in those weeks. And when he did finally catch a glimpse of you, it almost made his heart stop. He hoped he’d find you at a club, or walking down the city streets. He didn’t expect to find a suggestive photograph of you on another man’s phone. And that triggered his anger and jealousy in a way that nothing ever had before. 
Themes: exes-to-lovers, jealous!lando, smut, cam girl!reader, lowkey toxic ex!lando, degrading kink, brief aftercare, mild gun play, mild daddy kink
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All he saw was pure red. 
Earlier this evening, Lando walked into one of the clubs he owned in this city to hopefully drink enough to forget all about the torturous day he’d had. It seemed like ever since the two of you broke up, he had only been having bad days. Mainly because half the time he was busy thinking about you and his brain wasn’t functioning well. 
So tonight, after a long day and the longest week ever, he just wanted some drinks and some peace. But of course, life had to torture him some more. 
Lando was lounging in one of the couches in the VIP area, constantly having to turn down all the girls who wanted his attention. He barely even saw their faces, they all seemed blurry and since they weren’t you, he didn’t care. So there he was, chilling when he heard a group of men nearby, over on the next couch, laughing and ‘ooh’ ing while looking down at one of their friends’ phone. 
As much as he wanted to have them kicked out for their loud, annoying voices, he couldn’t because they were some of the regulars. The group was here almost every weekend. And part of him was also curious to know what had their attention like that. So he listened intently as the guys proceeded to make vulgar comments on pictures that a woman sent one of them apparently. The club was loud, but he was close enough to be able to hear part of their conversation. 
“So did you like, ask for this?” One of them asked.
Then the one on whose phone the video was sent, he assumed, answered, “She’s like a cam girl who also does like a private chat thing if you send her enough money. So I requested pictures and she sent these.” 
The men laughed, slapping the guy who received the video on the back like he was a hero. 
Another asked, “So what’s her name?” 
“I don’t know. She always wears hot bunny costumes and she...” 
The rest of what he said did even register in Lando’s brain. He totally froze on the couch for a second there. 
Bunny costumes? Surely not… 
Lando knew of your past as a cam girl. You used to be quite a successful one too. But you stopped when you and Lando started dating about a year ago. Not because he wanted you to, but because you didn’t need the extra money anymore since Lando spoiled you rotten. 
His heart raced faster than the cars he liked to drive when he realised how many bunny costumes you owned. It was your go to Halloween costume each year. Plus during your cam girl days, you were known for them. 
It can’t be you, right? You wouldn’t… right? Not when he couldn’t even breathe right whenever he thought about how you had ‘broken up’ with him. 
He felt hot and cold at the same time, and something, like a twisted gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. So Lando quietly signalled one of his guards over and asked him to bring him that phone that was currently being passed around within that group of men, and also asked him to kick that whole group out. 
Within a minute or two, the group was gone and that damn phone was in his hand. And Lando lost it for a moment. All he saw was red, his heartbeats echoed in his ears, his hands shook. He had never felt this level of rage before. 
On the screen was a picture of a woman, scantily dressed. Black fishnets, black bodysuit, black bunny ears, black high knee socks. He tightened his grip around the phone so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if the screen cracked. The woman’s face was turned away, but Lando would recognise that body anywhere. A body he had touched, tasted, fucked too many times to count. 
It was you. And the red neon sign behind you only served as more proof that this picture was taken in your bedroom. A bedroom he was in just weeks ago, arguing with you before you two broke up. 
He was breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon. He checked the date and time of the picture and turned out you had sent it that evening itself, and that only fueled whatever murderous rage had taken over him. 
Lando pocketed the stranger’s phone, and pulled out his own and called you. Of course you didn’t pick up and that only pissed him off even more. 
Within the next minute, Lando was out of the club, in his car and speeding towards your penthouse. He could barely think straight. He could barely function, it was a miracle he was still able to drive properly. 
His heart raced as he surpassed the speed limit like the law meant nothing to him. It rarely ever did but right now, all he cared about was finding you and fuck, he didn’t even know what the fuck to say to you. But he would remind you that you still belonged to him. 
He knew it would only piss him off even more but he pulled out that guy’s phone again, and with a few taps he found that damn picture again. He kept an eye on the mostly empty road as he swiped left and right to see if there were more pictures. 
There were a couple more. Same outfit, different angles. Always with your face hidden. Lando nearly threw the phone out the window but he knew he’d need it when he would confront you. So he tossed the phone aside, and punched his steering wheel instead. He hoped the pain would maybe take his focus away from the rage he felt, but he barely even felt the punch. 
He was shaking by the time he reached your penthouse. His entire being focused on only getting to your floor and knocking on your door. He barely even remembered if he had parked his car in the right spot. 
He took deep breaths in the elevator, trying to talk himself out of breaking down your front door the moment he got to it. It was late at night, so even if he did break down the door your neighbours would surely hear it and come investigate. 
And for what he had planned for you, he didn’t want an audience. Fuck, he was barely able to think straight after finding a picture of you in another man’s phone. He was certain he would commit heinous crimes if ever someone saw you half naked like that in real life. 
He banged loudly on your door. He could hear nothing but silence on the other end. But he knew you’d be home. Since less than an hour ago you sent pictures to a random man. 
He called out. “Open up, babygirl.” Lando growled, banging both of his fists onto the wooden door. The sound was loud enough that he could hear it echoing inside the spacious penthouse. He waited to hear something, and he did. Some kind of movement from the other side of the door, but the door remained locked. He yelled louder, “I will break down this door if I have to, baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cause a scene?” 
Apparently you didn’t because the moment those words left his mouth, he heard a familiar click. The door unlocked, but remained shut. He would’ve smirked and felt triumphant if it wasn’t for the fiery anger inside him which tried to claw its way out. 
Lando opened the door, rushed inside and slammed it shut behind him. At that point, he didn’t care who heard the commotion he caused. The moment his eyes met yours, he stopped giving a fuck about anything else. 
You stood near the entrance. Back against the wall like it would protect you from him. And what pissed him off even more was that you were still wearing that damn costume, minus the bunny ears, from the picture. Something in him snapped as he nearly pounced on you like an actual predator in the wild.  
Grabbing you by the neck, he pinned you to the wall. Ignoring your pleas, he pulled out that guy’s phone, found that damn picture and shoved it in your face. 
“Care to explain what the fuck this is?!” He snarled, squeezing your throat just a little. 
You didn’t have to look at the screen to know what he had found. You didn’t know what kind of twisted invisible string this was, that even after breaking up brought Lando back into your life. Like this no less. You’d been ignoring him for weeks, but somehow he found his way to you now. 
“That is none of your business.” You said, causing him to tighten his grip around your neck. Still, you whispered, “What I do is none of your problems anymore. We’re–” 
Lando cut you off by throwing the phone to the ground with enough force that it broke and bounced off the floor and hit the front door. Then he leaned closer to you, his eyes quickly scanning your barely dressed body. 
Your body reacted the same way it did back when you were together. All Lando ever had to do was give you those bedroom eyes and you’d be dragging him to bed no matter the time of day. 
His other hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out the shiny gun he always carried. It had his name engraved on it and everything. He used to let you play with back when–
Your thoughts came to an immediate halt when he carefully pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your parted lips, his eyes staring into yours. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of him at that moment. After all, he hadn’t earned the reputation he had for nothing. 
“Keep talking, come on.” He whispered, dangerously calm now. “Tell me more about how you’re not my problem anymore.” 
He scoffed when you shivered, trailing the barrel of the gun down your body. Leaving your lips, down your chin, down in between your breasts. The almost see-through bodysuit didn’t leave much to the imagination and it both pissed him off and turned him on. He dragged the gun across your stomach, and further down until he pressed the barrel in between your legs, making you whimper like an actual bunny. 
He rubbed it in between your legs briefly before dragging it back up your body. “You wanted to be a slutty, little bunny so bad, didn’t you?” He cooed in that voice that sent shivers all over your body. “Go on then, run and hide. Hide as best you can.” He tapped the barrel of the gun on your lower lip a couple of times before saying, “And when I find you, I will remind you exactly who you belong to.” 
With that he pulled away, took a few steps back and gave you room to run. It was cruel, whatever game he was playing. But it was messing with your head, turning you on. 
Seeing you weren’t moving, he added, “I’ll count till ten. Better get moving, little bunny.” 
You ran, hearing him count in the background as your heart raced. The penthouse was spacious, with many nooks and corners to hide in. Like the wine cellar for instance. But Lando knew each and everyone of those hiding spots. He was the one who gifted you the penthouse after all. Besides, no matter how well you hid he would end up finding you anyway. 
Still, you ran deep into your walk-in closet and hid behind your thich coats. Crouched down in a corner, you waited to hear if he was coming. His voice reached you before he did. 
“I’m coming to find you.” Followed by a deep, scary chuckle. “And when I do, I show you exactly what happens to bad little bunnies who misbehave.” 
Time felt like it went by in slow motion as you listened intently for his footsteps. You heard it approaching. Then you heard your bedroom door opening and shutting. 
“You’re so predictable,” He sounded disappointed. Yet his voice made you clench your thighs together all the same. 
And you were too busy trying to process how your body was reacting to the fear, the sound of his voice, the anticipation of what was to come, that you didn’t hear him enter the closet. 
“I know you’re in here,” He called out in a voice that was so calm it made your heart pound even harder. “I can hear you trembling behind those coats, babygirl.” 
Shit. 
You barely processed it all when his hand reached in and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you out of your pathetic hiding spot. 
“Lando, please–,” 
He cut you off by glaring at you and said, “On your knees.” 
You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him, looking up to find a wild hunger in those pretty eyes of his. 
He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what that pretty mouth is good at. Show me.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck. “You wanted so desperately to be a little slut, right? Sending pictures to random men, huh? Come on then, make it good for me like a slut would.” 
His words put you under a spell. Your hands reached up to undo his belt, unzip his trousers and lower his underwear to free his erected cock. 
“Come on, little bunny.” He hissed, watching you as you wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on him, your tongue slowly circling his tip. 
Lando pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it bunny?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…” 
You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock. Lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked every bit the powerful man he was. He groaned as he took over, pushing deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it. 
“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, as you gagged a little, taking him perfectly. “You wanted attention that bad, huh?” He hissed, fucking your mouth harder until your jaws hurt. “Isn’t that why you broke up with me? Because according to you I didn’t give you enough attention?” He thought back to that night you two ‘broke up’. 
That menacing tone of his made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs. 
He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of your mouth. “All the trips, the cars, the penthouse, that beach house you threw a bratty fit for, all the shit I bought you. None of it was enough for your attention-seeking, bratty self, was it? Hmm?” When you didn’t respond, you earned yourself a smack on your cheek. “You still had to go look for more from another man, is that it?” 
You glared at him upon hearing the insinuation in his words. 
“Did you think anyone else could treat you like I do? Did you think another man would spoil you like I do?” His stare intensified when you dragged your tongue lazily over the slit on his tip, tasting some of his come and moaning as you did. Smirking, and just to push your buttons he asked, “Did you suck him off like this too?” 
That did it. You pulled away, snarling at him, “Fuck you!” 
You stood up fast, shoving at his chest. But he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, his eyes focusing on your swollen lips. “So you cheat, and then you have the audacity to–,” 
You cut him off by raising your voice and saying firmly, “I didn’t cheat! We broke up, remember?” 
“And you are mine!” He hissed. “Remember that?” 
Before you answered, his mouth was on yours. His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Lando pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. Glaring at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 
It was hot. And messy. And you were too lost in him to think straight, so much that you didn’t realise he was dragging you towards your bed until he pushed you down on it. 
Then he pointed at the red neon sign above your bed with a lethal look in his eyes. “This is where you took the picture, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Like a needy little slut.” 
You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 
“Why’d you do it?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Was it for money?” He taunted, knowing full well he’d put enough money in your account for it to last a lifetime. 
All you did was whimper as he crawled on top of you, looking down at you like he couldn’t decide what to do with you. He knelt in between your legs, his hands toyed with the thin material of your body suit, his fingers tracing the outline of it along your inner thighs, then he abruptly tore it, the fabric giving in to his strong hands. 
His fingers tore at the fishnets as well, now exposing your wet folds to his dangerous stare. He touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 
“You’re not gonna show off this body from now on, you hear me?” 
“Now you have a problem with it?” You couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t that how we met?” 
That earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. 
“Yeah we did. And now you’re mine so no one gets to see you like–,” 
“But we broke up.” 
Lando hated being cut off. But what he hated more than that was when you argued over stupid shit like this. “Say that bullshit again. I dare you.” 
You gulped at the sound of his voice. Cold, bitter, threatening. He was getting on your nerves, and perhaps that’s why you whispered sassily, “We broke up.” 
And that did it. His hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. 
You could cry that’s how badly you needed him inside you. Lando wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you crying out loud. 
He held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “We broke up, huh? You think we’re done, babygirl? Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock?”
You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 
“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough attention, baby?” 
You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. He couldn’t even bother to get you properly undressed, but something about being so dishevelled as he fucked you, fishnets torn, bodysuit in tatters, it only made it hotter. 
His slight stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body was familiar, tight and hot.
Lando looked at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “See?” He whispered, “You’re all mine again. Only mine.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 
His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on? When you want something, you open that slutty little mouth and ask me for it, you understand? Be it attention, money, or some cock to fill you up.” He growled. “You come to me!” 
You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. Fuck, you had missed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.
“Are you gonna be good from now on?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re mine, and you’re damn lucky that guy didn’t touch you otherwise I would’ve fucking killed him.” He spoke in a fit of rage again, fueled by his lust. 
“Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad, you could feel your eyes tearing up. Your thoughts were a mess. 
Lando leaned in to kiss your exposed shoulder while he fucked you. “Answer me first.” He whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Are you going to fucking behave or not?” 
“I will!” You squealed when he bit down on your shoulder. 
“Good girl.” 
And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 
Lando kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for me.” 
You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your thighs. 
You didn’t remember when he cleaned you up and changed you into your favourite onesie before getting in bed with you. All you remember is waking up at some point during the night, cuddled up with him, safe and warm in his arms. 
Lando was awake still, his fingers lazily tracing shapes over your back. You cleared your throat awkwardly and waited for him to say something. 
“Why'd you do it?” He asked. 
You were silent for a moment. Then answered, “I thought it was time I move on and earn my own money.” 
“Your own money.” Lando scoffed. “You have money.” 
“It's yours. I'm not gonna use your money when I'm not with you.” A pause. “I've started looking for an apartment, I'll move–,”
He cut you off by twisting his body, and yours, so you laid on your sides facing each other. Even in the dark you could feel the intensity of his stare. He grabbed your chin roughly and spoke in that low, menacing voice. “You are gonna stop with this nonsense.” 
“But–” 
“Shut the fuck up, baby. Don't piss me off.” 
You frowned but kept quiet for a few moments. Having him be this close to you reminded you of how addicting he could be. His handsome face. His pretty eyes. His touch. The way he couldn’t help but order you around. He was infuriating. But he made your heart flutter. 
“So,” You mumbled, “Now what?” 
Lando let go of your chin and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. He ignored your question, and instead asked, “Are you in pain?” 
You quickly assessed your body and replied, “Just a little sore. That bite on my shoulder hurts though. It's gonna leave behind a mark.” You wrapped an arm around his lean waist too. 
“Good.” He said arrogantly. “It'll remind you that you belong to me.”
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ghostfacd · 5 months
Text
SAVE THE GIRL
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!mentor!reader
summary: when you start to feel bad for the tributes, it’s when snow slowly starts to crack. when you snuck into the arena to properly send your goodbyes to one is when he loses it, making it his mission to get you out, even if it means costing his life
warnings: SPOILERS. descriptions of killing, Snow being a bad friend to Sejanus and manipulative, reader essentially replaces Sejanus in the movie’s original scene
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“We all know how this works right guys?” Lucky Flickerman says, his eyes held a sparkle within them. “As soon as your tribute dies, you’re out!”
The screen flickers on the arena, its dusty surroundings filled you with a sense of dread.
You had gotten Lamina, a girl who you were afraid would die as soon as the timer went off. But she managed to impress you, and completely won you over when she had speared the other tributes’ pain and suffering by killing them with an axe.
“Coryo,” you whisper to the blonde hair boy who was almost drifting into sleep. “Coryo.”
“Hm?” He fixes his posture, “is something wrong with Lucy Gray?”
You shake your head, and only pointed to the empty desks surrounding you. “Many died.”
“Your point?”
It almost seems as if Coriolanus was bored of your commentary, he probably was, you did wake him from his sleep.
“This doesn’t feel right Coryo. Not at all. Any of it.”
Coriolanus lets out a breath of annoyance. It was always like that with him, he seemed always to be one step ahead—or at least he presented himself in that way, and he seemed like he was annoyed with anyone who wasn’t on the same level as him.
You and Coriolanus went way back. You were the first few to have known of the death of his father, Coriolanus had told you about it with tears in his eyes. Not because he missed his father, not really, but because he was afraid that there would be nothing left of the Snow family by the time the war was over.
When you first entered the Academy, Snow linked himself with Clemensia Dovecote, a pretty black haired girl who he had gotten close with, and if anyone didn’t know better, they might’ve been more than just friends. But Coriolanus and Clemensia came off as acquaintances by association to you more than anything.
He stopped doing group projects with you so he could do it with her, and he had made himself friendly with Sejanus, a boy who was originally from the Districts but managed to buy his way into the Capitol. Or at least, that’s what all of your seething classmates said as they looked at him in disgust.
“You sound like Sejanus.” Is all Coriolanus says, glancing back at his small television screen.
“Sejanus is our friend, Coryo.”
“Sejanus is district.” Coriolanus slams his hand on your desk, making you flinch. “No matter how much money he has, no matter how much he tries to fit in, he will always be district. And you? You might as well be district with him if you keep acting like this.”
Your brows furrow, and you start to get angry. Who the fuck does Coriolanus Snow think he is?
“And I suppose you’re so well off Capitol yourself, Coriolanus?”
The way your words drip with such venom makes Snow almost crumble, but he doesn’t, instead, choosing to inch his face just a meter over yours. “Don’t say anymore things you don’t mean, Y/N.”
And that was the end of it. Coriolanus Snow wins every argument, and you hated him so much. Why couldn’t he see this was wrong? You knew he had a heart in there somewhere, which was why he was helping Lucy Gray Baird in the first place. Unless he was doing it all for the Plinth prize, for the money.
As you watch your tribute fall to her death, the loud crack adding all to your misery, you wanted to throw the television and desk across the room, just like Sejanus had previously. They were monsters, all of them.
“I’m sorry Y/N.” Coriolanus says, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.
But Coriolanus Snow can’t be sorry, he can’t feel empathy, he can’t feel pain, and most importantly, he can’t feel love.
As the games went on, Coriolanus was slumped into his chair, sleep overcoming his senses.
Dr. Gaul clears her throat, her loud but snake like movements made Coriolanus jolt awake, hissing as he accidentally hurt himself on the edges of the desk.
“I see you’re still here, Mr. Snow.”
“Is something wrong?” Coriolanus asks, eyebrows furrowing. “Is Lucy Gray okay?”
“Oh her? She’s fine.” Dr. Gaul waves the girl off like she meant nothing. “It’s your friend, I’m worried about.”
“My friend?” Coriolanus whips his head around to try and find you, but you were gone, leaving no trace.
“Yes.” Dr. Gaul motions to the wide television in front. “She’s in the arena right now. Doing this goodbye thing for her tribute.”
Coriolanus doesn’t want to believe Dr. Gaul, but how could he not when you’re shown so clearly in the cameras, putting flowers into the hand of your tribute. Almost as if you saw her as human.
“Now Miss. L/N hasn’t done anything like this in the past, so it does spark questions in my mind as to why she’s suddenly..” Dr. Gaul pauses. “Rebelling.” She says this as if it were poison on her tongue.
“From Sejanus, I would expect this. But from our own people, Coriolanus? Now this is absurd. I’ll make sure to get the name of the peacekeeper who let her in and have them executed.” Dr. Gaul gives him a smile, one that sends chills up Coriolanus’s back. “Now I happen to know you two are friends, close friends even; so I need you to go into the arena and fetch her out.”
“Me?” Coriolanus stutters out, hesitance clearly showing in his voice.
“Is that hesitance I hear, Mr. Snow?” Dr. Gaul steps even closer. “Everyone in the Capitol is asleep by now, which means they won’t see the foolishness Miss. Y/N is currently causing. You will go into the arena and take her out before she does anything more stupid. I will not let these rebels make mockery of my game, Mr. Snow. I will simply not allow it.”
And Coriolanus knows he has no choice but to obey Dr. Gaul’s orders.
He makes his way quietly into the arena, making sure his footsteps weren’t creating such loud noises to alert the tributes.
“Y/N,” he whispers as he gets close to your kneeling figure. He watches as you slowly put your hand over Lamina’s eyes, closing them for her. “Y/N.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” you reply, not bothering to turn around to face the boy.
“But I am.” He grunts out in annoyance. “I’m here to save your ass because that’s what friends do, Y/N. So help me, and get up.”
You don’t listen to him, choosing to keep kneeling and watching your dead tribute instead. She looked peaceful, and you felt so guilty knowing there was nothing you could do to save her.
“Y/N, I mean it.” Coriolanus says in a more assertive tone. “You’re going to die out here. These tributes? They might as well be animals now, they’re gonna kill the both of us if we don’t get out.”
He grunts in annoyance when he doesn’t see you move, so he carefully walks over, placing his arm under yours, practically dragging your body up from your kneeling position.
“Cmon Y/N, you’ve got to help me.” Coriolanus whispers out. “You don’t want to die here, trust me.”
“HEY! YOU!” The two of you whip your head so quickly at the voice that it sends a dizziness into your head. “HEY!”
The remaining tributes, none of them were Lucy Gray, Wovey, or the boy from 11 with speed so quick that it took the breath in your lungs away.
“CMON!” Coriolanus grabs your hand, the both of you fiercely running towards the doors.
One of the tributes with one of his eyes shut had a sharp blade in his hand, successfully slicing into Coriolanus’s back and your arm. The two of you let out a moan of pain, the frenzy feeling of adrenaline overwhelming the both of you.
Coriolanus lets your hand go for a second, pushing the tribute back harshly, managing to make him drop his weapon. Coriolanus picks up one of the broken poles, repeatedly hitting the male tribute with it until his body stopped moving completely.
You thought he’d be done with it, but he lets out a scream of anger, plunging the pole into the tribute’s body, making you shriek out in horror.
“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Coriolanus breathes out to you, practically limping hand in hand with you as he sees the other tributes catching up from the distance. “Open the door!”
The peacekeepers opened the door, closing it right as one of the more fiercer tribute sticks her trident out. “You’re lucky you’ve escaped this time.” She growls out.
You fall onto the ground as soon as Coriolanus lets go of your hand.
“Hey,” he croaks out, kneeling to cup your face into his hands. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.”
He sounds so reassuring, so kind, and not like the Coriolanus you had despised from earlier.
“I..” you can’t even get a word out before you’re full on sobbing, not caring if you were embarrassing yourself in front of Coriolanus and the two peacekeepers.
“Shh, it’s okay.” He places his hand on the back of your head, bringing you into his chest. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
“No one will ever hurt you, Y/N.”
And if there’s one thing Coriolanus Snow is good at—it’s ensuring he gets what he wants.
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jonnywaistcoat · 2 months
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months
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I've always found it hard to find the right words for comments, but I used to try and put down something on all the fics I liked but after seeing what some of my writer friends, who are fairy popular in their fandoms, say privately in the groupchat about some of the comments they get, I can't bring myself to leave any comments at all any more.
I know it's a form or unloading where they can salt without hurting anyone and I generally think that's a good thing, saltmates are needed so you can talk about all the crappy annoying things in fandom in a private space and not spread shit on tumblr or ao3 etc.
But It's so so disheartening to me as a comment shy reader because it's never good enough. If it's just emoji hearts or someone saying "second kudos" it's too short and worthless. If it's epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing, then it's too much and annoying.
I just don't understand, I don't write myself, I draw, badly, and I never get the kind of praise they sometimes get, but I would LOVE to have some of those things said about my work.
I love my friends a lot and I'm a firm believer in saltmates, but it makes me a little crazy and very paranoid to see the difference between what they say in private and what they actually answer to the comments in public on their fics.
I've read a lot here on tumblr about how fic writers love ALL comments etc etc and a lot of tips and tricks for people who have problems leaving comments, but I dont trust that now and I never comment anymore because I do not want a writer of a fic I love to think such things about me, even if it's just in their minds in private.
Do I have extra salty friends or is this a common thing among writers that no one wants to admits out loud?
From my experience, as a writer in fandom on and off for 20-ish years and as the mod of a comment-positive fandom ask blog, your friends are extra salty.
Have I heard people get frustrated with "I liked this!" comments? Sure. But for every one of those, I hear at least 10 people who are giddy and bouncing and just over the moon that someone liked their fic. I've never heard anyone complain about "epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing." Most fic writers I know would probably pass out from happiness if they received one of those.
I don't know your friends, of course, but it sounds like someone in the group got a little toxic at some point and the rest of them went along, for whatever reason. Maybe burnout was a factor. Maybe they had a specific thing they wanted to get from their comments section that they weren't able to receive. Whatever the cause, the effect on you is bad.
I know you didn't ask for what to do about this, but I'm going to lay it out for you anyway:
stay in the group chat and feel worse and worse about every comment you've ever left on a fic
say something to your friends and ask that they have those conversations when you're not around (your choice if you include the part about it being because they make you feel bad)
leave the group chat and maybe also lose those friends
None of those options are great, but your current situation already sucks so it might be time to try something new.
I'm so so sorry that they made you feel like your comments weren't enough, anon. You don't deserve that. No one does. I hope if those authors see this ask that they pause and reflect and realize the audience they were speaking in front of.
I agree that people need a place to be salty, and I appreciate them doing it in a private space - but it wasn't private enough. ❤️
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tootiecakes234 · 3 months
Text
I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.
You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.
One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.
“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.
He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.
You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.
He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.
“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”
You look at him with a bright smile on your face.
“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”
“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”
It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.
You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.
You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.
You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.
“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.
“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”
When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.
“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”
He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”
“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.
“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”
Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.
You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.
“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.
“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”
“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”
“I do not.”, you start to object.
“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.
“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.
“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.
“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”
“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”
He smiles at you, “always”
He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.
You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.
To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216
Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕
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emo-batboy · 6 months
Text
Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University
Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D
Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model
Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.
Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it
Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-
Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)
Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything
Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did
“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway
Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work
Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.
Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY
Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*
Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him
Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)
Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew
Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.
Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once
Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving
Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam
Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.
Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone
Makes a murder wall
Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people
Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*
Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time
Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad
Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*
Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM
Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)
Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*
Wears a suit to one of his finals
Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has
Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion
Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom
Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct
Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons
Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*
Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those
Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that
Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which
Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?
Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times
Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)
Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*
Okay that's all love you BYE
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
Text
"What. The. Fuck."
Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.
Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.
"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."
"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"
"Eddie, sit down."
"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"
"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."
"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.
"Wait, what?" he asks.
He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.
"Then whose is she?"
"I told ya to sit down, Ed."
And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.
"Your dad was here earlier."
Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.
"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."
It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.
Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.
"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.
"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."
"Jesus Christ, what a mess."
"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."
Eddie swallows thickly.
"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."
Eddie nods.
"You wanna hold her?"
He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.
"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."
It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.
Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.
“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.
She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.
He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.
“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.
Wayne turns his head back to him.
“Bout what?”
“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”
Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.
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