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#but literally i work the 2 days and then the days off i spend basically always in bed trying to recover until next shift
anxiety meds are wild when they work wym I’m chill right now??? this is normally when the anxiety attack kicks in??? why am i just calm and sleepy??? no panic? fucking weird but hell yeah I guess!
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mystellenia · 28 days
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giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ
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summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.
content: nothing much, just ellie being shy
notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it
(wc 0.6 k)
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after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work
you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)
after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)
and now we wait for ellie to come home!!
when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear
anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii
you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....
sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"
and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!
then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"
and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you
would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz
she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).
i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.
wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny
but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."
there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching
then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"
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pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that
@picklesarenice69
wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔
can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format
like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle
dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly
click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
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edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯
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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months
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[If you need to be mean] chapter 2
Chapter 1
Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)
Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective
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— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 
Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 
But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 
He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 
— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 
— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 
— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 
— And she wasn’t? 
König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 
— No. 
— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 
— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 
— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 
— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 
— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 
Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 
The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 
But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 
You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 
He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 
But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 
But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 
It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 
The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 
Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 
He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 
You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.
You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 
You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 
You under…
— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 
He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 
He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 
God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 
God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.
— Sir, is everything okay? 
He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 
— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 
He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 
But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…
— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 
This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 
— No. Just coffee. 
— Sugar? 
He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 
König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 
— Ja. Thank you. 
— Good choice, sir.
Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 
But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 
Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 
You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 
König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 
— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 
You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 
He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 
You still want to ruffle his hair. 
He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 
— Nein, thank you. 
He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 
Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 
König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 
You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 
König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 
He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 
He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 
He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 
— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…
You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…
— It was a tip. Take it. 
He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 
He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 
— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 
— Don’t wander at night again. 
He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 
— I won’t. Promise. 
He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…
— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 
You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 
König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 
Tag list: @iwritesjud3
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bogleech · 10 months
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Why do the adult stages of insects have short lifespans?
Most animals can't reproduce, and most don't even develop the organ systems to do so, until almost the end of their development. Many mammals are actually rare freaks for their ability to start reproducing as little as a third into their lifespan, and keep reproducing over and over until they die; it's an extreme and radical survival strategy we evolved that comes with some pretty severe trade-offs, in that we have high energy demands and require so, so much food in proportion to most other organisms, not to mention all the ways those reproduction systems can take on illness, malfunction or hurt us. Other animals like birds and reptiles and various fish opted instead to reach adult size as fast as they can, build the reproductive system, and then just take it easy: they live a long time and can mate more than once, but they don't do so constantly and don't make that many young. The MOST common strategy in nature, basically the default norm is to devote most of your life just to eating, growing, and storing resources in your body, then "spend" all the resources you can on reproduction, giving so much of your energy to your babies that it actually kills you. The upside is that this is why most animals make hundreds or even thousands of young in one go, which better guarantees that at least one will survive. Salmon and octopuses are two of the most famous non-insects that do it that way, but so do thousands of other mollusks, fish, members of the various "worm" phyla and others. Many insect groups hyper-streamlined this, so they have a larval stage that's just an eating machine, like caterpillars and maggots, possessing only the bare minimum anatomy they need to keep on eating and growing and nothing else, usually incapable of even traveling from the same food source they were born on. They then use up all of this stored energy to create a body that is perfect for perpetuating their species, including more mobility (such as wings) to spread their population further. Insects exhibit almost every variation there is, but many insect groups hyper-streamlined the basic method so they have a larval stage devoted to non-stop eating, like a caterpillar or a maggot, devoid of any anatomy that does not help it collect all the energy it can as continuously as it can, then use up that energy to build an equally dedicated mating form, which may last only days or weeks because it even gave up the ability to eat as it devoted as much of its body as possible to making those babies in that one big go. There are still many exceptions including insects like cockroaches who mirror the mammal strategy of mating over and over for a relatively "long" adult life, or insects that still only mate the one time, but still at the end of a fairly long adult life that continues to eat and store energy. The most extreme exception to this might be aphids, which continuously develop clone offspring and give live birth to them for their entire life, by which I mean some aphids are born already pregnant with their first clone. These actually still go through a normal mating process too, though, when a winged male finds them near the end of the year, and then they die after laying proper eggs that can survive the winter. The non-stop clone babies are just so that one female has even higher odds of mating with at least one of those males, because now there's 10,000 of her for him to find. To understand basically everything in nature you just have to understand that: 1: life forms actually work like video game characters in that they constantly "farm experience" (nutrient energy) they have to spend on their unique spread of stats and abilities (every body part and system comprising them) 2: every life form evolves as if the only goal of that entire game is to generate offspring and increase the odds of their survival, literally no matter what must be sacrificed.
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jadeddangel · 2 months
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if you do poly stuff could I get a Lute x reader x Adam
I 100% DO POLY STUFF OMFG I SIMP FOR THEM SO BAD
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Lute x reader x Adam
Headcannons and blurbs
warnings: hints of smut here and there but mostly toothrotting fluff
If you are under the age of 18 or legal age, please don't interact
Adam may not always treat you and lute the best but there's never really a doubt from either of you
Adam does his best to spend time equally but unfortunately with lute being his second in command he's constantly working with her
The moment one of their masks comes off when they get home on the other hand they're both yours for as Ling as they can be
Adam and lute had been gone all day, between planning the exterminations and dealing with having to train new exterminators they were wiped. You had worked as a secretary for Sera and Emily, so you were usually home pretty late. Adam and Lute picked up some pizza on the way home and were just waiting. Emily had been running you ragged having you play with her, color for hours, climb through a play place that she insisted on having for the younger sould and unfortunately she hadn't really taken into account that you needed to eat, so all day you had been starving. You were finally allowed to go home after heaven started to get dark to allow souls to rest. You were trugging up the stairs of your building going straight to your shared loft. You stepped into the loft, kicking your shoes off and hanging your bag, taking notice to the 2 masks already at the door. "Guys, I'm home!" You called out weakly as you stepped into the living room. They were sitting together on the couch cuddled up together while watching a movie. Lute took notice to you first and moved so she was standing on her knees on the couch as she waved you over. You gave her a weak smile as you leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss putting your hand on the side of her head as she immediately pulled you down more letting the kiss start to get heated as she pushed her tongue into her mouth. At this point, Adam took notice of you being back due to the happy little hums and heavy breaths that he was hearing next to him, Adam cleared his throat, trying to bring attention back to him. Lute pulled away before kissing your nose playfully. You laughed a bit before looking over at Adam. Adam gave you a small smile "Well hi there, sugar tits.. where's my kiss, huh? A kiss for your favorite boy?" Adam teased
It was often like this calm and sweet, and aside from Adam's minor sexist and misogynistic moments here and there
Lute always called him on his shit though
The only time your routine ever changed was the week after the exterminations
That was when mating season started, due to most of the angels being bird or animal based, which caused heaven to basically shut down
You, Adam, and lute just stayed in your apartment making a nest out of pillows and blankets
It was also one of the only times Adam took over cooking, insisting that you needed rest for later activities
Now, when it comes down to sex, Adam refuses to bottom, and so does lute (but not as harshly), leaving you between a rock and a hard place when you try to top
They're definitely big on restraints ,breeding, and marking. They just have to let anyone and everyone know who you belong to
Lute is rather quiet ob the vocal spectrum, and Adam only lets out curses and heavy breathes
Adam literally sucks at aftercare. He'll waste all of his energy focusing on fucking you silly that he's usually passed out by the end of it
Now, don't get lute wrong she loves you and loves to take care of you, but she isn't the best at aftercare either.
Lute will get you in a nice warm bath, maybe put warm compresses and massage on places that hurt and then will just put on a show in the background
Lute usually pays more attention to cleaning you up rather than Adam, she just takes a damp rag and just wipes him down
Cuddles are a must between the 2 of them
I mean it, they're so scared of losing you that they cling to you for dear life the moment you get home
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desertfangs · 5 months
Note
Since you write a lot do you have tips for people who want to write more?
Hi, anon! I can sure try and tell you some of what works for me!
Ignore advice that you don’t find helpful (that includes these tips!)
Writing is a process, but your writing process is always going to be unique to you, so if something doesn’t work for you, trying to implement it is only going to make you miserable. Like some people will tell you to write every day, but sometimes the pressure of that is going to be too much. Basically anything that doesn’t work for you, chuck it in the bin. You don’t need it.
Put your word processor in full screen
I write in Scrivener, which has a “composition mode” but you can also just put your document on full screen to minimize distractions. That way it’s harder to flip over to check Discord or Tumblr or whatever. Of course, I still exit out of full screen every time I need to look something up in the thesaurus and then I end up spending 15 minutes screwing around on the internet so you know, it's not a perfect system.
Work on several things at once and don’t be afraid to step away if a story isn’t working
Granted, my writing method is like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, so I tend to start a lot of stuff that fizzles out after a few paragraphs (or a few thousand words 😭😭) and I know juggling multiple things does not work for everyone.
I personally usually need at least 2 current WIPs, so I can switch to the second when I get stuck on the first. This means even while I’m ruminating on one fic, I’m writing another. But I have friends who literally can’t write on more than one project at a time or their brains will explode, so again, it’s just about what works best for you.
[BRACKETS]
If you’re stuck on something like a detail or a fact you need to look up or a piece of dialogue (“How the fuck would Lestat respond to THAT?” is my constant refrain, my cats are tired of hearing it), just put something in brackets like [Lestat replies with something flirty or witty] or [Fact check if X] or whatever it is, and then you can move on and keep going and not lose your momentum.
Set a Timer
If you're struggling to make yourself focus and write, set a timer for 10, 15, 25 minutes (whatever increment of time works for you!) and write until it goes off. You can keep going after if you're on a roll, or your can stop for a while, but it will get you into the mindset of writing. And even if that's all you do that day, hey, you wrote for 10 minutes!
Kill your need for perfection and that critic in your brain
I am still working on this but it’s true! You can make your WIP more perfect in editing. The old adage that you can’t fix a blank page is correct. And honestly, a lot of times I will write something and think ‘ugh this is no good’ and then go back and read it weeks later and really dig it. Or I figure out what it needs to make it better. (Or sometimes it still sucks and we just pretend it never happened.) But no one else has to see your first drafts! So don’t stress about making the first draft super good or agonize too much over word choice. Just get words on the page and worry about making it better later.
I hope you find some of that helpful, Anon!
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sexhaver · 1 year
Text
competitive Melee is a deeply inherently funny esport mostly because of Mang0. at his peak he would spend the days leading up to a tourney shit-talking on SmashBoards, then show up slam dunk drunk and win the entire bracket in the most disrespectful way possible. two specific disrespectful moments stand out:
Mang0 (Fox) vs SFAT (Marth) (skip to 3:25 if the timestamp doesn't work)
youtube
it's game 1 of a best of 3 set. Mang0 is at 4 stocks, while SFAT is already down to 2 and getting actively combo'd. someone in the audience, as a joke, shouts out "use the laser!". for context:
Falco's laser is one of the best projectiles in the game because it does hitstun, meaning it can interrupt enemies out of their attacks
however, Mang0 is playing Fox, not Falco. Fox's laser is mostly like Falco's, except instead of being good, it is not good. Fox's laser has absolutely 0 hitstun and takes a while to pull out and shoot. this means pretty much the only time it gets used in competitive play is to spam it during the neutral to hopefully rack up some damage without actually interrupting anything
not only is shooting SFAT with the laser while he's offstage a suboptimal choice, it gets even funnier when you realize that the obvious combo finisher anyone else would use there is Shine. Fox's shine comes out on literally frame 1, gives him intangibility, sends the enemy sideways in a way that's basically impossible to recover from offstage, and can be jump canceled on frame 2. Shine is not just the best move to use in this specific instance, it's not just Fox's best move, it's not just the best move in Melee, it is arguably the strongest move on any character in any fighting game ever made.
so of course Mang0 uses the laser instead of shining. the crowd goes apeshit, he finishes off SFAT's last remaining stocks in literally 15 seconds (demonstrating the actual power of Shine on the final stock). even though it's game 1 and he can theoretically make a comeback, SFAT is so humiliated by this that he literally just unplugs his controller and walks off stage. also this was during the era when Melee wasn't being streamed to a huge audience or sponsored or anything so the casters just said whatever the fuck they wanted, which gave us gems like "UNPLUG YOUR CONTROLLER, DAWG! FORFEIT!" and "WOMBO COMBO!!!!"
Mang0 (Jigglypuff with crown) vs HungryBox (Jigglypuff with headband) (relevant bit starts at 2:31)
youtube
for full context, Mang0 (along with most of the rest of the Smash community) and HungryBox had had a shitload of beef in the years leading up to this match. HBox famously used/still uses Jigglypuff, which pissed/pisses off other players because that playstyle is infuriating to face off against. you either get hit with rising aerial Pound 20 times in a row offstage or upthrown into a frametrap rest for instakills starting at 30%. because he is a deeply funny person, Mang0, of course, also chose Jigglypuff. he then proceeds to mop the fucking floor with HBox. the entire set is brutal but the bit i highlighted is the worst by far. HBox is down a stock and goes for a Hail Mary up-tilt into Rest combo. it might have worked if Mang0 was a bit more damaged and stayed in hitstun longer, but it misses. missing a Rest with Jigglypuff is an invitation for the opponent to use their strongest possible move/combo for free in any matchup, but it's probably the worst in the mirror match* because the other Jigglypuff can just Rest you right back for free. which is what Mang0 should have done here if he wanted to win.
instead, he just. jabs HBox. doing no damage or knockback and waking him up for free.
comparing the audience reaction from this match to the previous one is so fucking funny, because with the former, you could hear everyone laughing and losing their shit, but this is just... a collective gasp at Mang0's audacity. the commentators are struck dumb for a few seconds before saying "Mang0. that's disrespectful to everyone. to HungryBox. to me. to you..." before being interrupted by HungryBox killing himself to end the match and walk away
*yes, I know Roy can reverse his up-B on frame 1 to kill sleeping Jigglypuff from 0% on Pokemon Stadium. however, if you know this factoid, you also know that Roy is literally never used in competitive because he is Marth but with all the good traits replaced with bad ones, so stop being a smartass
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joeybsversion · 5 months
Text
Pathetic
Joe Burrow x Reader
Joe and reader see each other again years later
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“Well thanks, Michelle! It was good to see you.” You smile and grab your bag from the older ladies hands. “I’m glad we caught up on the Athens, Ohio drama.” You laughed.
“Good to see you too. Don’t wait 5 years before you come back next time!” She called after you.
You were back in your home town, Athens, OH for the weekend dealing with a family dilemma. Athens was a small town, it really only had 2 main roads, both lines with gas stations, locally owned shops, and a few hotels. You grew up shopping at this same grocery store. Michelle had worked here since you were little and she recognized you the second you walked in. It was great to catch up with an old friend, but you were ready to escape this little town. You had stopped to grab a few things before heading to the hotel across the street for the night.
With another quick smile and wave, you pressed your back against the door to open it before it was quickly pulled away from you, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall backwards.
“Shit. Sorry!” Familiar hands reached up and helped steady you.
“Its ok.” You turned and were immediately frozen in shock. “Joe.” You gasped.
“What… oh my go—“ he nervously fiddled with his hands. “Hey.” He greeted you, clearly caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”
“Family stuff.” You nervously spit out. “What about you? Don’t you have practice or something?” You questioned.
“Bye week. Came home to support the local football team in play offs.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Are you staying at your parents?”
“No. Actually have a room at the hotel across the street.” You nodded your head in that direction. “I know it’s not the fanciest but it has a bed, and TV, and AC..” you nervously blabber. “Actually was just headed back to grab a drink and some dinner.”
Joe turned to look at the hotel before his eyes met yours again. “I’ll walk you over there.”
“Joe.” You laughed. “It’s literally 50 feet away. I’ll be fine.”
“I know… I just… would you… do you wanna catch up? Let me buy you a drink. It’s been what? 5 years since we’ve seen each other?” His eyes anxiously look around.
“Yeah sure.” You smile. “We probably have some catching up to do.”
You and Joe had dated for 4 years before you both left for colleges across the country from each other. He was now an NFL Quarterback and you were a wedding photographer. The breakup was messy, neither of you really got closure, and you hadn’t spoken since.
You followed Joe across the street and slid into the booth across from him. The room was dimly lit, the table sticky with booze, and the waitress was nosy. It was clear she recognized Joe, but he gave her one look after she dropped off your first round of drinks and made it clear she wouldn’t bother you both.
“So.” He cleared his throat. “How have you been? What’re you up to these days.”
You pressed your glass of wine to your lips and took a sip. “I’ve been good. Super busy. Started my own wedding photography business and basically spend all my time editing pictures.”
“Wow.” His eyes were wide. “Congratulations. I know that was always your dream.”
“Speaking of dreams, congrats to you Mr. Quarterback.” You teased.
He laughed and took a drink, shaking his head. “Yeah. It’s been a crazy ride.” A smile spread across his face. If there was one thing you still admired about Joe it was how humble he was. He’s graduated college less than a year ago and was already leading an NFL team to victory. “So, do you have a husband? Boyfriend?” He paused. “Girlfriend? Significant other?”
You laughed. “No, just me right now.” Your cheeks turned bright red. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Yeah.” He flashed the gold band on his ring finger. “Got married last year, just welcomed our first little one a few months ago.”
“Holy cow!” Your heart was crushed. “Congrats!” You faked a smiled and motioned to the waitress another round of drinks was needed. “Tell me about them!” You really didn’t want more details, but were just trying to be nice.
“My wife”, he flipped his phone around and his Lock Screen lit up, flashing a perfect picture of his beautiful wife and precious baby, “is truly superwomen. She’s taken on the roll of mom and NFL wife without an issue.” He smiled. “And baby Scarlett is just perfect.”
“You have a beautiful family.” You admitted. “Are they here with you?”
“No, just me. Hard to travel with a new born.” He looked at his phone again. “Actually if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go call them quick and say goodnight?” You nodded and he excused himself from the table.
You quickly finished your second glass of wine. Not sure if your face was hot from the alcohol or because you were holding back so many emotions. 5 years ago there was no doubt in your mind you would be Joes wife. But here you are, in a stuffy hotel bar single and talking about his newborn.
“Can I actually just buy a bottle?” You questioned as the waitress made her way around again. “And he’ll take another as well.” You motioned to Joes empty cup as she made her way back behind the bar to get your request.
Your face was buried in your phone as you googled Joe and his wife.
“Ordered me another I see.” Joe smirked as he sat back down across from you.
You quickly stashed your phone back in your purse. “I figured you’d be game for another round.” You laughed.
You and Joe spent the next few hours catching up, sharing drinks, and laughing about all of your old memories. The bar would be closing soon and you needed to get to bed, you had a long drive ahead of you tomorrow.
“I’ll walk you to your room.” Joe helped you from your seat, both of you stumbling and extremely tipsy.
“Thanks, Joe.” You slurred and took his hand.
You slipped your way into the elevator and up to the 7th floor before leading Joe down the hallway to your room. “Here it is.” You turned to him.
Joe grabs you around the waist, his hands shaking as though he might break you.
“Do you want to come in?” You whisper, your eyes locked on his.
He nods, his fingers still trembling and locked in your hips.
“You know I’m not going to break, right? I’m not as delicate as you think I am.” You giggle.
“I still feel like I’m going to break you.” His grip loosens even more. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we’d be back here and-“
You place a finger to his lip, silencing him. “Kiss me.” You whisper.
Joe crashes your lips together. His hands hungrily tracing every inch of your body. He lifts you up and without hesitation you wrap your legs around his hips, falling onto him as he sits on the edge of the bed before laying back.
You spend the rest of the night tangled up with Joe, his lips attacking yours.
“You ever think about us?” Joe asks after your long night. Your both laying in bed as the sun peaks through the curtains.
“Of course I do.” You answer, your voice horse and your lips swollen. “I think a lot about how timing is everything. We had the love, we had the whole universe. We just weren’t ready for each other.”
You both look at each other. And just like back then, there is so much love in your eyes. And somehow, the timing is still not right. And it seems that’s how things will always be for you and Joe, your timing will always be a little off.
“I think you need to go.” You clear your throat and break the stare between you two.
“What do you mean?” Joe pulls you into him.
“This isn’t right. We both know that. I really think you need to go. You have a wife and a family Joe. This isn’t fair.”
“What’s not fair,” he says, rolling away from you and throwing the comforter off of his body, “is that your about of put your clothes on and force me to leave this room.” He stands from the bed. “And I don’t know why.”
You stare at him, eyes wide and nervous. “Joe.” You say softly. “This isn’t right. You have to go. You need to.”
He plants a kiss on your cheek. “I still believe we’ll get our second chance. Somehow, someway we’ll find each other again. It’s pathetic, really, how much I still hope it’s you and me in the end.”
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Text
when I took a month off work I was lowkey worried I'd come back and find everyone had been fine without me and I wasn't needed at all (because being terrible at every previous job I've had did some ✨damage✨ to my self confidence)
but that is not what happened
I have never encountered someone so fucking happy to see me as my boss' wife was on my first day back, her face lit up like it was christmas, she was practically jumping for joy because now that I'm back she doesn't have to do the ops team's fucking timesheets anymore
I have been told by one of the ops guys that my leave of absence had caused a genuine rift in the boss' marriage because his wife hated doing my job so much they were actively fighting about it
to be clear, his wife is lovely, she doesn't usually throw a shit fit about just anything, it was just that my job is just so fucking annoying that she hated every second of it, and that was the most validating shit I have ever experienced in my LIFE
and the reason she was pissed off at my boss/her husband about it is because he's too soft on his crew and doesn't make them all report their hours for the week
which, as you can imagine, makes building their timesheets extremely fucking difficult
it basically turns the whole process into a puzzle that I have to solve using roughly three different sources of information, one of which is the boss himself who isn't always easy to get ahold of when he's on a site
this puzzle is made even more difficult by the fact that a glitch in our form system keeps messing up the dates on the timecards, so I have to cross reference the time cards from the two (2) ops team members, who actually DO fill out their forms, with the roster, but my boss often changes the roster at the last minute without telling me or noting it down, so then I have to cross reference with the reports they have to submit for certain ongoing jobs because they'll have correct dates and also a list of who was present (if they were doing one off smalltime jobs that week I'll have no physical records and will rely entirely on the boss' memory to confirm dates and staff numbers, unless I can get ahold of one of the ops team members themselves and there's only one who will reliably communicate with me but only when he's not currently on a site)
I tried to explain this process to boss' wife before I left and, looking horrified, she asked me 'is there no way to streamline this?' I replied 'this is streamlined'
as far as I'm aware, as long as I've worked there, there has only been a handful of times people were paid incorrectly, and it was because I was not given correct information by the boss, in the time I was gone, his wife told me that she had incorrectly logged several pays because of this broken ass system
so, as you could imagine, my ego is through the fucking roof right now, I am GOOD at this bullshit job, I took an impossible system and made it work, I am playing on hard mode and killing it, in a field I had zero experience in before taking this job other than a natural inclination for organising and scheduling
and to be clear, I love this job, the boss is too soft on his staff but he's a good guy, he makes us all feel valued and appreciated, he paid me above my award rate, he's absurdly accommodating, and I have an insane amount of freedom to do what I want with company files
I may be working with a bullshit system but I can take naps in the office whenever I want and tell my boss off when he's being too soft (one time his wife literally started clapping when I told him off for sending clients their reports before they'd paid for them) and I get to control when I work, and whether I work from home or the office (which is GREAT when my back flares up)
I might not get many hours (only 16 hours per week) because the company is so small and I run out of things to do because I've streamlined everything (boss literally called me TOO EFFICIENT), but he'll give me those 16 even if I spend half of it playing solitaire and watching youtube
so just, yeah, it feels so good to be confident in my work, to feel valued and appreciated and like I'm actually successful at something after being handed dud jobs for years that I wasn't cut out for, and now knowing that what I'm doing is actually genuinely hard but I've been doing it anyway without fail, makes me feel good!
so tldr; taking a month off work taught me I have phenomenal job security because if my boss ever fires me his wife might actually fucking kill him
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sakusafilm · 2 years
Note
This fic of yours is so good! Even though i hate kiyoomi for being such a bastrd😣 i feel like i can relate to the reader so much! The reader really deserve better! Not only she is failing but her boyfriend doesn't love her anymore and cheating on her😭 i really can't imagine how hurt is that😭 did u plan on writing a part 2? Kinda wish he's regretting or begging her to come back tho:')
Anyway, welcome to tumblr!:)
was really thinking of doing a part 2 !! so here it is. hope u like it 🍰
in which kiyoomi sakusa begs for you to come back.
sakusa x fem!reader, kita x fem!reader, angst, they fought and like punched each other, mentions of bokutitties LMAO
part 1
© sakusafilm. do not repost.
nine years.
you spent nine years of your life with kiyoomi sakusa, just to fall apart.
you always believed that people, indeed, just come and go. some of them will be just seasonal. your high school friends, your college friends. for some reason, you lost a lot of connections through the years. and it's not like someone's at fault, it just happened. because, well, people come and go.
but with kiyoomi, you never expected it to happen.
you were so sure that he is someone that you will spend the rest of your days with. you were so sure that he will marry you someday. you were so sure that he is a permanent one. he wasn't just a boyfriend or a partner, he was your bestfriend. so you never expected it.
although you knew that falling out of love hurts, it was the betrayal that is killing you. because falling out love isn't inevitable, but betraying you... like he never loved you... is beyond all of this. it's his choice.
after leaving sakusa's apartment, you moved to a smaller one near the hospital where you're working. you had nothing but some personal things that you tried to fit into your one and only luggage. but that's fine, you know you won't be staying at home much. the plan is to tire yourself out until you pass out.
you chuckle at your own self-destructing thoughts. you want to pass out and find out what hurts more, slamming your butt against the floor or kiyoomi's words. ah, you're going crazy for real.
for the next three months, that's what you did. work your ass off, volunteer doing the things you don't have to do so that you'll have an excuse to stay in the hospital. you basically lived there and if it weren't for some upperclassmen who nagged you, you really won't go home.
your review for the next licensure exams did not stop while brainstorming about your next individual dissertation. and you love tiring yourself out for things like this. you prefer this than think about kiyoomi again.
“sakusa kiyoomi for the first service ace of the game! nasty as always!”
today is different.
you can't escape him and his famous ass today. everyone, like literally everyone, is talking about the next match between adlers and black jackals. this is a highly anticipated match—so every phone, laptop and television around the hospital is on it.
after the adlers lost to jackals a few months ago, this is the most awaited revenge.
you're scribbling random notes in the quarters as your colleagues cannot contain their excitement towards the game. some are throwing awkward looks at you. they know your relationship with kiyoomi, and even if you didn't talk, it's obvious that you're over because of the continuous dating articles about him for the previous months. your colleagues never asked why, but they are hardly trying to be sensitive towards what you feel. you appreciate that, but they don't really have to.
you really understand how kiyoomi is famous and you cannot avoid him all the time so when their stares became too bothering, you looked at them, “just enjoy the game, guys. stop staring.”
“s-sorry, doctor!” someone said, “we just—”
“it doesn't matter to me, so please don't mind me and just enjoy watching.” you chuckled at them.
it's a lie, ofcourse. it does matter to you.
and even if you understand that kiyoomi is famous and all that shit, it still hurts. just hearing his name hurts. hearing and realizing that he's been doing so well hurts. because... why are you the only one miserable? why does it seem like you're the only one who got hurt? he continued in winning, being admired, being loved.
it felt unfair.
“bokuto caught the ball with his titties again!” they laughed, “he's literally my favorite, god! i'm starting to think that he's actually practicing that move in training!”
“better put that chest to use.”
you wanted to laugh and watch with them about the game like you used to. but you cannot endure seeing kiyoomi again even for a second because even after six months since that day, no progress has been made.
even if you work until you pass out, or read and try to retain information in your head—you still remember him. you still love him. and who can blame you? god, you fucking spent almost half of your life with that man. you grew up with him. you showed him parts of you that you can never show to other people. you believed him, you know. genuinely.
“seems like msby will win again.”
you wanted adlers to make msby eat dust this time out of bitterness, but that's not happening at all. seems like everyone in msby trained so hard for this match. atsumu miya is on fire with his sets, shoyo hinata showed new moves, kotarou bokuto can even joke and play around, and kiyoomi sakusa isn't being playing around with his spikes. he has always been so competitive with volleyball but today, there's something different about him. like... he's mad and going insane at the same time.
seems like you have to wait for another game before it's msby's outside hitter 15's turn to eat some shit.
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kiyoomi scored so much with his spikes in the game. if it was an official game, he probably became the mvp. in the locker room, atsumu glanced at sakusa who's been staring at the floor too much. bokuto hummed as he tries to read the mood of the room and shoyo made face, trying to make him shut up.
“stop staring,” sakusa, as always, has some great intuitions. everyone knows that. that's why it's a riddle for the three boys why he did what he... just did. to be frank, they are annoyed by it. especially atsumu. he knows how much you love his moody teammate, he watched how much you supported him from the sidelines.
“you were on edge the whole game,” miya commented, “it was a nice game but you have to know that being angry disrupts a lot in the system we built during practice.”
“i...” sakusa tried to search for words, “i'm just a little fired up earlier.”
“you're not fired up, omi.” miya says, “you're so mad, you're trying to ease the anger in you.”
“shut the fuck up. are you a therapist?” sakusa scoffs.
“it's so obvious.” atsumu answers, “you fucked up real bad. hope you know that.” kiyoomi looks at him, “and no, i'm not talking about the game.”
he knows. he fucking knows.
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forgetting kiyoomi sakusa is the hardest thing you ever tried to do your whole life. the memories are following you around. taunting and haunting, like those dreamlike days suddenly became a nightmare.
you know exactly what you need to do: move on. there's no other way but to move forward. you cannot let sakusa have the luxury to ruin more things for you. you deserve better than mopping around for a man who left you first.
so after a year, you started meeting new people. a lot of colleagues tried to set you up with a date with their friends. you agreed, ofcourse. you're single, a professional, beautiful. you can definitely agree to it. and these dates reminded you how huge it is out there.
it was fun and amusing to see men try so hard to please you with what they have. one time, you had a date with this lawyer who just talked about the cases he loved handling. it's pretty interesting for you. a lot of them are really interesting. but not consistent.
“you better have fun, dr. __!” dr. uchinaga has been nagging you to meet his nephew for a lot of times already. he waited until you finally agreed, “my nephew is a gentleman. very responsible and smart. i really think that this will work out.”
he's a senior doctor in the hospital and you couldn't reject it, but to be honest, it's making you curious too. he's been sweet talking about his handsome and responsible nephew for months now, and even told you that the man likes you too. at last, it's happening.
this one felt different. you don't know why but this makes you nervous.
you arrived at the restaurant five minutes early from the time that dr. uchinaga told you. it's a michelin five star restaurant in the middle of tokyo, very famous to tourists because of their traditional japanese food.
“uh, a reservation under dr. uchinaga—”
“a reservation under dr. uchinaga—” you looked at the man who spoke in unison with you.
“kita shinsuke.” you almost choked on air. you blinked, couldn't believe the gray-haired man infront of you. your lips parted as you stare at him.
“i think we should be together tonight.” he uttered with the same confidence you remember from years ago.
no way. yes way.
you're dumbfounded as you stare at kita shinsuke but when you managed to offer his arms to you, you mindlessly took it and walked with him inside the restaurant. this is a joke, right? kita shinsuke? the kita shinsuke? inarizaki's former captain? your high school crush?
he is your date tonight?
your heart is racing. something about seeing shinsuke again after years is making you excited. god, you were head over heels for him before you met your damned ex. back then, everyone's gushing over the top five aces of japan or the miya twins, and then there's you admiring shinsuke from afar.
you admired the calmness in him. you admired his precise words. there's nothing extraordinary about his plays but no one can beat him in the mindset department. he is not just book smart, he is wise. especially if compared to teenagers back then.
“do you—”
“do you—”
shinsuke chuckled, “you first.”
you chuckled too, “oh, i was just going to ask if you remember me but then i remembered that it has been like... ten years? so... this is probably a coincidence...”
“oh, not really.” he answered. your lips parted. your face doesn't show it much, but disbelief is crawling under your skin. but, he doesn't know you. or atleast he didn't care about his admirers back then.
“my uncle showed me a picture of his favorite junior. i wouldn't agree to this if i don't know you,” he says, you figured that out, hell! that's just so him, “so yes, i remember you. and i bet you... still remember me?”
“i do!” you quickly told him. damn, how could you forget? you remembered travelling to hyogo just to watch their final match. you brought a banner you did to cheer for him. you were such a fangirl back then, “i do... remember you. i mean— i—”
he chuckled, “let's not talk about high school if that makes you awkward.”
shinsuke made sure that you are comfortable with him throughout the dinner. he is true to his words. he did not ask about high school and kept asking about work. you decided that it would be fun to go to skytree after dinner and he agreed.
you already know this since high school but kita is different.
all this time, you talked to people who wanted to impress you. you never felt that with him. is it because he's confident enough? you're not sure, but you feel like it's deep rooted to the fact that if this ends, it won't be his lost, but yours. dr. uchinaga is right, he has a very responsible and amazing nephew.
“if you don't mind me asking...” he said, “you're not with—”
you looked at him, “i am not with him anymore. yes.” you looked at the view from the skytree.
lo and behold, japan's night lights.
“i think i won't be here with you if i have a boyfriend...” you chuckled.
“right.” he chuckled back, “it's rude to say good to hear, right?”
“yes, that's rude, kita.” you laughed.
the drive home was fun. shinsuke insisted to drive you. he talked about the farm and how he just went to tokyo again for a little vacation. he's staying in the suburbs, loving his best life quietly. and you can't stop yourself from answering, “that's so you.”
it's embarassing. it's as if you know so much about him!
“you know me well,” he commented, “what else do you know about me?”
he gave you a small smirk, you chuckled, “oh, i know a lot. like the way you watch your teammates whenever they are in game like a fox. or the way you clean the comfort room in inarizaki—”
he suddenly laughed, “alright, alright. you were such a fangirl back then. to be honest, the cheering doesn't matter to me.”
oh, you know.
“but when you started not showing up in games, it kinda felt dull.” you were stunned, “so if you ask me if i remember you, i do. you are loud everytime we are in a match and i don't have a lot of supporters back then compared to the miyas, so... kind of hard to forget, honestly...”
“thought you were annoyed by those cheers.” you told him.
“i didn't mind. that's all.” he answered you.
when you and kiyoomi started dating each other, ofcourse, you stopped supporting and going to kita's games. but now that you're out here, hearing what he thinks of you years ago, you cannot help but ask yourself: what if you rejected sakusa? what if you continued supporting shinsuke?
“i can go home from here.” you told him when you saw the convenience store near your apartment. he stopped the car slowly, “thank you for today. i had so much fun.”
“me too.” he smiled, “i'll go home to hyogo tomorrow but will be back for the weekend again. would you like to... uhm...”
“see each other again?” you asked him, “i don't mind, if it's not a bother to you.”
“it's not.” he immediately told you, “i would love to know more about you.”
your stomach felt heavy the moment you stepped out of the car. you waited for kita to drive away first before you started walking home.
the thought of being back in the first stage of getting to know someone makes you feel... angry. kiyoomi actually wasted your time. the years you spent together. and now, you don't fucking know you can actually do this again because the fear of shinsuke dropping you once you invested everything to him is inevitable. it's already rooted in your trauma.
if a man who was with you for nine years can do that, what more for a man that you just met again today?
you sighed at yourself. you have to stop thinking for a moment. it will be okay. kita is so different from kiyoomi. and besides, he's just trying to get to know you. it's not like you'll enter a relationship immediately with him.
“__,” you stopped walking. your heart stopped. your hands became cold as you slowly face the man who called your name.
in a black hoodie, black ballcap and black facemask. lean and tall with his curly hair, after a year of trying to build these walls against him, you realized how you haven't made any progress at all. sakusa kiyoomi stands across from you, the only thing you can see are his eyes.
the lamppost where he's leaning is lighting his face up.
“sakusa.” saying his name again has a bitter aftertaste.
“can we talk?”
“we have nothing to talk about, kiyoomi.” you firmly told him, “leave.”
“just tonight, just... hear me out... baby—”
”do not!” you exclaimed, tears threatening to fall, “do not fucking call me that... do not fucking come here like it's my fault that i don't want to talk to you... do not fucking come here like i should listen to you! because i don't! i owe you nothing!”
”ofcourse... ofcourse, baby...” he removed his mask and took a step closer. you took a step backward and looked at him again.
“it's been a year, sakusa. just leave,”
“it's all my fault. i know.” he says, “i have no excuses. i did it. i kissed another woman. i betrayed you. i ruined everything. i ruined us. i could rest but i chose to do the shittiest thing that i could ever do to you. i wasted everything. it took me a while, but i know that now.”
“and what do you want me to do? take you back like nothing happened?” you remarked, “i am not a pushover, sakusa. i you genuinely loved me, you will never do that... you will never even think of it... but you still did...”
you turned your back from him.
“i miss you so much,” god, he's so cruel. he's a fucking asshole for doing this to you. and you can't allow this. you can't be tamed by this, you can't forgive him so easily, “i am stupid and foolish. but i still love you, __. i just want to tell you this, i just want you to know. you don't have to tell me anything. but when i told you, back then, that i don't love you anymore... it was my pride talking for me...”
you still love him too. but if there's one thing you learned from all of this: it's love being not enough. it's not enough to make you stay. it's not enough to forgive. because you can be angry to those who you love, and that's okay. those feelings are messy and confusing, but they are valid.
“it's over, sakusa.” you said, stopping yourself from tearing up in front of him before finally walking inside the apartment.
but for kiyoomi sakusa, it's not yet over.
after that night, he constantly sent you gifts at home and at the hospital. it varies from flowers to chocolates to snacks to coffees and everything he knows that you love. sometimes, he would wait infront of the lamppost again but you won't stop walking and you won't give him even an ounce of attention, leaving him in emptiness.
on the other hand, shinsuke has been so consistent too. video calls on your free time, dates on your day offs. he would travel from hyogo to tokyo consistently to be with you. he's making you try new things— that secret starbucks recipe, the pink tulips that you hated before, the dark chocolate that you never tried because you were so inlove with the milk chocolate.
“thanks for today, uh,” you stopped tracking of the dates you had with kita already, “do you want to go to my apartment? it's just, uhm, you told me that you want to see this new netflix movie and i also want to—”
“i'd love to.” he smiled at you, “don't be nervous, it's just me.”
you smiled back at him. it's been five months. for others, it may seem fast. but for you, it's already slow enough. shinsuke has been so considerate enough.
he held your hand as the both of you walk to your apartment. it's still early and you're so sure that kiyoomi won't be waiting outside. you're so sure— until you saw his figure waiting. your eyebrows furrowed and you stopped walking. shinsuke looked at you.
kiyoomi is standing there, holding a huge bouquet of red roses. immediately, kita figured it out, “think i have to go—”
“no you don't,” you looked at him, “please don't go,”
he looks at you and slowly nodded, holding your hand tightly as you walk with him. sakusa stands up properly, looking at you and the faux haired boy holding your hand tightly. the bouquet fell on the dust. regret, anger and pain crawling in kiyoomi's system. sakusa knows kita shinsuke, your crush. before him, there's kita.
“__,” sakusa called your name.
kita stares at him.
“please leave, sakusa,” you said, “you see, i don't have the time to talk to you or to even treat you like a guest. just... leave...”
your eyes met his and slowly, a pang of guilt and pain went through your system. these days, you've been thinking why that sensation of guilt and pain has been washing through you whenever you look at him, despite being angry. despite of everything he did.
is it love? you don't think so.
or maybe it is? you're unsure.
because if it's love, maybe it's the love you had with him back then. the love he wasted. the love he discarded like trash for temporary pleasure. and maybe, you will keep hurting for him, for the both of you, because you will continue to grieve for the lost chances. you will keep hurting for each other and think about your what could've beens. you will keep grieving for the memories and the photographs you shared. you will keep hurting for what hurts because you're human.
but it doesn't mean that you'll want him back.
slowly, kiyoomi bended his knees. kita's eyes widened, and yours too. he kneeled in front of you. his pants being dirtied by the dust on the ground. like a bouquet of flower losing his it's life, sakusa kiyoomi is begging you to come back to him. right now. in front of shinsuke.
“stand—”
“you jerk!” shinsuke took his collar and gave him a strong punch, “stop making her feel guilty! stop bothering someone who is doing everyone to forget about you! you wanted this! you ended things! you—”
”kita,” you calmly called his name, “please stop.”
shinsuke calmed down with that, moving away from kiyoomi and going behind you. he got too carried away, and now he's letting you handle this on your own.
“go home, omi.” after so long, he finally heard you call him by his nickname again. making him tear up.
“i don't know what's home anymore,” he whispered, just enough for you to hear.
“then build one again.” you answered, “nurture one again. start over again. because omi, this isn't home anymore.”
“is that what you tried to do?” he asked.
you nodded at him, “i changed the way i drink my coffee. i changed my favorite flowers. i really don't have to, but it helps. it helps a lot. i changed my routine. i built a home from nothing when you left me. and if i could do it, you could do it too.”
“baby—”
“kiyoomi, forgive yourself. we are just meant to fall apart.” you whispered.
“i'm sorry. i'm so so sorry,” he said.
“you were amazing and painful to love. you brought me feelings that i never thought i could feel. and the past nine years of my life has been such a rollercoaster ride. i am still thankful to you, for taking care of me, for loving me, for enduring me. so please go home... go home and rest... because you can't keep doing this anymore...” you said.
silence embraced the three of you. the wind is almost whistling to your ear. your heart is racing as you grasp kita's hand.
kiyoomi slowly nodded and looked at you, “are you happy? genuinely,”
you nodded at him.
sakusa looks at you tonight like he will always love you. and you remember him back then, being so in love with you. tears started falling through your cheeks.
it's over.
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kita shinsuke is inlove with you.
so when you started not going to his matches, it started being so dull for him. the annoying, loud girl is not cheering for him anymore. he never envied the attention that the miya twins has been getting but it sure as hell good to hear someone shouting his name from the audience.
you found out that you're dating sakusa kiyoomi in social media. he knows that it's you, because you have that smile in your pictures with him. and then he thought, right, she's from itachiyama. it's even a riddle for him how you managed to travel to hyogo everytime he has game. but he shouldn't be thinking about that now, because he will never see you again.
until it's not what happened and he managed to see you again. for a date. does that mean that you broke up with kiyoomi sakusa? after all those years?
when he confirmed it, he couldn't let go of the opportunity. he doesn't care if he travels from tokyo to hyogo every single day, that's what you did for him in high school, anyway. he will answer your call in a blink of an eye, hear your rants about that toxic colleague that makes it hard for you to work.
“shin!” tears filled your eyes as you hugged your boyfriend of two years, “i can finally have my second specialization!”
your dreams, your aspirations, your hard work. he loved every bit of it. he loves hearing about it.
“ah, i'm so proud of you,” shinsuke chuckled to your ears, “marry me.”
you chuckled, “i will. next week, right?”
finally.
you realized that time was never a factor. it is not a hindrance if we don't let it be one. a nine year relationship could fail and a two year relationship could be your happy ending, you will never know.
there's only one thing you know, though.
you and shinsuke... you love each other.
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erenxfrieda · 5 months
Text
Yandere! Fern/Reader.
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I'm not dead! Just busy with drawing and obsessing over AT this time. Hope you will forgive me for disappearing and appearing with new stuff after a few months. 😔 Warming up, so just small headcannons this time.
work includes: basically yandere themes, small mentions of kidnapping, manipulative behavior, Fern affected by grass demon.
Fern is literally the best yandere in Adventure Time, prove me wrong! His whole “You're going to live here. You're going to be fine” while trapping Finn in this dungeon, having only dirt and garbage as some sort of food... that's cute. He tried, at least. Babies' first kidnapper steps!
Fern is a complex person, he tries to act like Finn, being the hero everyone needs and loves, the grass boy probably would expect from you a lot of reassurance that he is doing the RIGHT thing, that he is doing ,, hero stuff,, better than Finn.
At some point, the more you assure him of his delusional thoughts, the more delusional he gets. He loves how you spoon-feed him with the idea, that you really prefer him to Finn. I think that that would lead him to be even more cruel towards Finn, constantly showing off in front of the other boy like, “Ha! Saw that?! They love ME more than YOU!”
If you show some sort of interest in Finn, whether it's just helping out each other, talking or... just Finn looking in your way, Fern would feel absolutely jealous. He probably has thoughts that «He is trying to steal them away from me" that are in his mind 24/7, Finn might state from time to time that he is not interested in you at all and probably won't 'steal ' you away from him.
Would he believe in it? No.
I believe that Fern is the type of yandere who would treat the person he adores with extra care, even admitting that you are his favorite among all the people he knows. He's actually pretty needy and clingy, as long as you give him the love and attention he needs, but If only you stopped giving it to him, be ready that he would not let it go easily.
His first reaction would be “Wait, what? I thought we were having a good time together” , holding your hand just to stop you from pulling away. The slight fear and sadness in his eyes are visible, what did he do wrong? He's the problem, right? How could he fix it?
Reassure him all you want; give him different versions of why you need to leave him for 2 minutes so badly; that won't work. In such a state, deep in his mind, he doesn't listen to your words. He groans in frustration, ripping grass from his own head, only for it to regenerate in seconds.
Fern fumes in anger, just yelling out everything that appears in his mind. Just angry thoughts about how unfair it is that he can't be enough for you to just leave everything and spend all your time with him. Of course, he is not enough, he is just a shadow of someone so popular and loved that he doesn't stand a chance to even try and win you over.
The only way to deal with his tantrums is just to wrap your arms around him tightly, give him a good squeeze, and lead him outside to enjoy a warm, sunny day. He would make a fuss and hiss like a stray cat, only to relax and lean against you. Maybe he does manipulate you this way, but it's hard to understand whether he actually knows what he is doing or just acts on his impulses. I think, at first, he really just expressed his frustration like that and stuff, but when he noticed the way it works against you, he would do it again and again.
This grass demon thing is really fucking up his mind badly. He would be the type of yandere that grows from someone really sweet and innocent, he still needs a lot of time to understand who he really is. Fern has the same memories as Finn, but still acts shy and nervous about the idea of dating or just being close with someone. But sadly, no matter how much Finn would try to teach him how to be a good hero and be his own person, Fern would not be afraid to use violence when it was needed.
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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year
Note
HiI would like to request two Minho x female reader please.
1. Minho gets in the shower ro relax and reader joins him and they are starting fluffy but when they start cleaning each others body things get heated and it turns into smut.
2. Reader and Minho liked each other but noone had time to explore the feelings. But when Minho gets back from that night with Thomas in the maze the reader is so happy hes still alive and there is some tension building up...later on the keepers meeting (book scene) where Minho is a total hottie and says the most iconic stuff as usual reader cant help herself and once the meeting is over she suddenly kisses him.
Thank youuuuu <333
Okay, yes I can totally do this, however I am still new and bad at tumblr so idk how (or if it's even possible) for me to respond to something twice. So, here is the first one and I will try to write both and post them at around the same time, so keep your eye out for the second :))
REWARD AFTER A LONG DAY'S WORK
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MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST
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SUMMARY: See above- 1. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.
WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, guess I've put it off long enough so have some actual smut. Unprotected intercourse. Reader is on birth control because I said so, we ain't having any Glader babies running around. Unedited because I refuse to reread my own sex scenes- cope. Minors DNI 18+.
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You and Minho have been dating for a while now. Everyone in the Glade knows because, well, it's kind of hard not to notice.
When Minho isn't out in the Maze, he's clinging to you like there's no tomorrow. Probably because for him, there might actually not be. His job is dangerous, and he could literally die every single time he heads out there.
So, he spends as much time as he physically can with you.
Not that you're complaining. You love Minho- I mean, who wouldn't? He's basically your personal guard dog, not to mention he's passionate and caring and does everything he can to make sure he's not making you uncomfortable.
He's literally the perfect boyfriend, much to the other Glader's dismay- it means you're probably not going to be single again anytime soon. And with you being the only girl, there's definitely some pouting in Minho's presence.
Speaking of your boyfriend, you haven't seen him since you greeted him at the Doors. He's been pretty busy recently, especially with Alby doubling down on the workload.
"Newt," you spot the blond from a mile away as he sits in a group of boys but that doesn't stop you from approaching him. People are starting to settle down for the night. The Doors are closed, dinner has been and gone, and the dim light of numerous flames is the only thing keeping the Glade alive. "Have you seen Minho?"
"Hm?" He blinks for a second, pulling himself out of his current conversation and processing what you just said. "Oh, yeah, he's in the shower- he got stuck in the Map Room late. 'Said sommet about needing to relax." The boy shrugs, clearly having not paid that much attention to his friend.
"Alright, thanks," you flash him a smile before heading in the direction of the shower block. The showers are actually normally empty at this time, because this is around the time that you take a shower, and the boys respect that.
"Minho?" The sound of running water fills the rows of showers, covered with curtains.
"Hm? Yeah?" He responds, voice gravelly and tired.
"Is everything okay? Newt said you needed to relax?" You creep further forward, not wanting to startle him as you stand outside of the closed sheet.
"Yeah," you can hear the smile in his voice, "yeah, I'm alright, just a rough day."
Silence settles as you can hear Minho quietly hum to himself out of satisfaction. You smirk to yourself for a second before you speak.
"Yanno, I also need to have a shower," you pause slightly, "do you mind if I join you?"
The curtain moves, not exposing Minho but he does stick his head out, smirking at you. "You wanna shower with me?"
You shrug, feigning innocence, "Might help you relax, yanno?" He rolls his eyes, dropping the curtain and letting it fall back in place.
"Get your ass in here." You snort a laugh, doing as you're told. You strip from your clothes, hooking them over the top of the curtain bar with Minho's clothes. There's no way you're leaving them on the floor. You're already taking a risk getting undressed in an open area- though the Gladers know better due to routine.
You move the worn piece of fabric, slipping into the small area as Minho has his back to you, hogging the water. Though, you take a second to admire your boyfriend's perfect form.
His back is muscular and toned- he's obviously got an athletes build. He runs the Maze all day, every day. But even so, seeing his perfect body us more than enough to have your heart racing, even if you see it pretty much every day.
"Are you gonna move, or what?" Minho scoffs as your blunt tone, stepping aside to let you squeeze next to him, allowing the luke-warm water to hit you both.
He looks down at you, his smile is soft as he drinks in your appearance. It's not like he hasn't seen it before- you guys struggle to keep your hands off of each other most of the time. But still, he always feels so lucky to have you, and he thinks you're gorgeous.
They could dump a bunch of girls in the Glade tomorrow and Minho wouldn't care.
You picked him- him! He at least has something good going for him.
"The shuck you staring at, pervert?" You joke and he jabs you in the ribs, causing you to squeak.
"Uh, my girlfriend? I'm allowed to look at my girlfriend last time I checked."
"I'm allowed to look at my girlfriend," you mock him, making him push his tongue into his cheek. "What happened today, anyway? I've barely seen you."
"Sorry," he mumbles, throwing his head back and letting the water wash through his hair, running down to the front of his neck and down his defined chest. "A couple of Runners are getting frustrated and have started causing problems. It happens every now and then after someone becomes a Runner, and they think they're gonna change the world or some shit, and then they throw a tantrum when nothing happens."
"That sounds pretty klunky," he hums in agreement. You and Minho are long past the honeymoon phase, but that's not a bad thing. You're comfortable with each other, and it also means you know one another, and your bodies, pretty well. "You want me to wash your back?"
"Of shuckin' course, I do," you roll your eyes at him, but you still take the soap off of the shelf. You run your hands over his back, letting your nails sink in, but you know Minho doesn't mind.
You trace your fingers over the occasional white line; the scars are old, and it's been a while since Minho's been seriously hurt. But they're still a bitter reminder that he's literally risking his life on a daily basis.
"Alright," Minho turns to face you, pressing a quick peck to your lips, "your turn- spin."
"You're not at scary as you look, you know that, right? The other boys would never let it go if they saw you acting like this."
"Yeah, yeah, but they're never gonna see it, are they?" You turn around, facing the wall as Minho's hands start to run along your back. "It's all for you." Minho has you rolling your eyes a lot, but you do release a snort as well at his cheesey behaviour.
You let yourself relax, melting into his touch as you lean back, resting your head against his shoulder. You let him massage you, feeling him press light kisses against your shoulder and the side of your neck.
"Minho.." You murmur, letting out a satisfied breath, feeling heat starting to surge between your legs. Minho had always been an expert at doing so little to get so much out of you. It's almost annoying, but definitely a skill to be sure.
"Hm?" His teeth graze against your throat from behind as his hands come to your hips. He's not forceful by any means, but you take the opportunity to push your ass back against him. He quickly reciprocates the action, as you feel him getting hard against you.
Likewise, it doesn't take much to get him going either.
His boldness grows as he very gently drags his fingers down your mid-drift. Your head starts to feel fuzzy, and you gasp as his hand only travels lower.
"Can I make you feel good?" He mumbles mainly into your hair as his warm breath catches against your ear. "Can I touch you?"
You nod, your words catching in your throat as you suddenly forget how to function.
"Use your words for me," it takes you a second, but overwhelmed by need in the growing steamy room, you manage to squeak out a vaguely strung-together sentence.
"Please, touch me, Minho."
He's more than pleased to oblige, dipping his fingers lower and between your folds. You breath hitches, becoming heavier as he starts to gently rub circles over your bundle of nerves.
His rhythm is painfully slow as he teases you, knowing exactly how to make you melt under his touch. You whimper, clinging to his arm for some kind of support.
Your body already aches for him, but with his current actions, he knows you're not going to achieve anything.
"Minho, please," you stress, grinding against his hand to try and desperately get some more friction. Well, he can't say no to you, so he increases his movements.
He adds a little bit more pressure, touching you exactly as you need to be touched. It doesn't take long for you to feel tense in your lower stomach, your body trembling, mumbling gasps escaping you.
And then Minho pulls away.
You whimper at the lack of contact, turning to face your boyfriend. An attempt of a pout is quickly dispersed as Minho pushes his lips to yours. You hum into his mouth as you let him push you against the cool wall of the shower.
One of your hands comes to the back of his neck as he holds your face and you hip. Your other hand brushes against Minho's hardened dick, breaking the kiss for a second.
"Can I-?" You ask.
"Please." He begs.
You run your thumb over the tip, feeling him shivering against you as you connect again. Slowly, you start to touch him more, but he doesn't let it last long.
"We've, uh, we've been un here a while- you wanna hurry this up before someone comes looking for us?"
You smirk. "Sounds like a good idea."
Minho's mouth goes to your neck, hiking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist. His teeth nip at your skin as you gasp, feeling him fill you.
His pace starts slow. Probably because you're not exactly in the most natural position. But with your soft mewling into his ear and nails carving into his back is more than enough to make him rougher.
He knows your body perfectly, and he can tell you're close simply from the noises you're making. As much as he'd hate to admit it, he still hasn't quite built up a resilience to your vagina just yet, which is why he puts more attention on you. Finishing too early is natural, but he's still embarrassed by it.
His fingers once again reach for your clit, and very quickly waves of pleasure are washing over you, leaving you trembling and moaning as Minho holds you in place.
After a few more thrusts, he groans, trying to use the crook of your neck to stifle his noises. His body relaxes, falling limp. You listen to his heavy breathing for a short while, taking the time to compose yourself.
"You good?" You chuckle as he pulls back, also pulling out of you. In response, he kisses you again.
"I shucking love you," he mumbles as he presses your foreheads back together.
You, once again, roll your eyes, but you can't help the soft smile playing on your lips. "I love you too, slinthead."
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Yeah, okay, I've actually finally wrote smut. And it's not even good smut- I am not proud of this. But I also refuse to reread it because I cannot read my own sex scenes without cringing so y'all are just gonna have to deal with it.
I'm definitely better at writing spice and fluff- but I am here to entertain the people and ask and you shall receive.
Bit dramatic lmao, but anyway I hope y'all kinda enjoy :))
I am sorry.
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simpingforthemm · 6 months
Note
Could I have a carmen Aziza fic where Yn is new to the prison and she always feels like someone’s staring at her and one day she catches carmen staring at her and gets really flustered then carmen starts flirting with her and becomes posessive over her then one day she drags Yn to the library and kisses her and basically confesses how she wants Yn all for herself
my love, mine all mine
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my love mine all mine - mitski
word count: 5.9k
warnings: obsessive, possessive and protective behavior, flirting, kissing, toxic behavior, a bit of violence, threats, cursing, stalking, harry potter part 2 hate (I'm truly sorry)
summary: y/n is new to the prison and always feels like she is being watched. one night in the tv room, she turns around to the person who is watching her, only then realizing how gorgeous her observer is. they form a bond through several sets of events, slowly falling for each other. y/n slowly gets to know ouija's protective and possessive nature and at one birthday party of y/n's bunkmate, that behavior hits its peak. provocated by jealousy, frustration and confusing feelings, ouija makes a messy confession, explaining how she wants y/n all to herself
a/n: heyy, sorry that this took so long! I had a lot going on with school and writer's block so that I literally had no motivation to write. Anyway, I put a lot of work into this and I hope you like it (pls tell me what you think!!). I hope the flirting isn't too awkward, I'm still figuring out how to do that. I hope you enjoy and that I've done your idea justice. also this takes place in season 4
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You were walking towards the entrance of Litchfield Penitentiary, the prison where you would be spending the next 3 years of your life. You had been charged with drug trafficking and distribution, all because some scared little snitch who didn't want to go to prison had ratted the whole cartel out. Even your drug lord was now facing a sentence of 9 years. 9 fucking years.
Your lawyer, who had defended you in trial, had been really shitty and literally just gave up on you. He didn't even try to make your sentence shorter, that sorry excuse of a man. Lazy fuck.
Morello, the weird Italian lady who drove you and some other people down to the prison, opened the gate and let you and the other new inmates inside. You couldn't believe you were now an "inmate", it was so weird to think of yourself that way.
"Welcome home everyone!", she exclaimed, giving you an encouraging smile.
You were lucky to get out of the cold van, it was January after all and since it had already snowed, the temperature had dropped down several degrees. So it was a relief to step into the warmer walls of the prison, not having to freeze your ass off in the snow.
The first thing you noticed when you stepped into the halls was how crowded it was. You were tempted to just turn around and run, trying to escape the stuffy air and suffocating feeling that was slowly spreading inside of you. Other inmates were constantly passing your little group, shooting you intimidating glances or smiling dangerously at you. You were uncomfortable, but not scared.
It just reminded you of the halls of your high school back then. Loud, uncomfortable and always overfilled. And god, the popular girls who used to bully you. To say the least, you were used to this.
Morello guided you through the prison, showing you where the commissary, bathrooms and everything else was. You were just passing the TV room, looking inside for a second when you made eye contact with a brown haired woman. The woman frowned at you, looking you up and down. You frowned back and kept walking, turning away from the door.
What the fuck was that?
You sighed and shook your head, telling yourself not to think too much of it. It had only been a small encounter, nothing too significant. At least not enough to get you in trouble. For now.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
You were shown to your dorm, where you occupied the bunk above a woman named Brandy Epps. It was obvious she was extremely racist, you even heard her discussing something about "white lives matter" or "white pride", which you took as a sign to stay the fuck away from her. She continued to make dirty comments about other inmates in the prison while you were busy making your bed.
You turned around to listen to her when you were done, staring at her in disgust and listening to the insults that were coming out of her mouth so easily. You shook your head in disbelief.
You must've been staring at her for too long as the woman turned around, obviously pissed off.
"You got some kind of problem?", she questioned threateningly, getting closer to where you were standing.
"No", you huffed, looking away. You really didn't want to start any trouble on your first day. Best to avoid tricky situations.
"Good. I see you staring like that again, we got a problem, you hear me?"
You sighed. You should've known people would have anger issues in here. That people would get aggressive over the smallest things, because they didn't have anything better to do. Because prison was a shithole and it was fucking tiring to simply just exist there. You certainly didn't want to end up like her, but you feared you were going to have no choice in the future.
"Sure."
Before she could say anything else, you made your way to the cafeteria for dinner.
Due to the prison's overcrowding, the blocks were divided up at each meal. You and your block ate with Cell Block C or the so-called "Spanish Harlem", as Morello had already explained to you.
With your plate of food in hand, you sat down at the end of some table and started eating. You were extremely hungry, exhausted from the stress of arriving in the prison.
Suddenly, you felt two pairs of eyes burn holes into your back and you just knew someone was staring at you. You forced yourself to not turn around, not wanting to start a fight on your first day. One never knew what could happen in prison, you might get jumped just because you sat in the wrong seat or stared at someone the wrong way, almost like it did with the racist bitch back in your dorm.
It made you uncomfortable but you focused on the disgusting brown liquid in front of you that was supposed to be "chili con carne", forcing it down your throat and hoping, no praying, that that person was going to leave you alone.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
The next few days you felt as if you were being watched the entire time, feeling that burning sensation in your back again. There wasn't a single moment where you didn't turn around every single second while walking to the showers or the cafeteria.
You were extremely paranoid.
But every time you did, there were always too many people in the halls to really make out someone who could be stalking you.
So you just kept on going about your day, minding your business.
Until you couldn't anymore.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
It was Friday night, which today should've been movie night, but it got canceled and now everyone was in a bad mood. It wasn't often that something nice like this happened and it was a good escape from the tiring everyday routine the inmates had in the prison. You got to watch cool movies, eat snacks from the commissary and chill with your friends.
Instead, you were now sitting in the tv room, just reading your book in a chair next to Morello, who had unfortunately forced you to come along.
"Come on, Y/N! I promise it'll be fun. You can bring your boring book, even though it is a TV room, meaning you go there to watch TV and not to…read. Usually. But I'm sure they'll make an exception!", she had said to you after finding you alone on your bunk, wrapped in your blanket. You had rolled your eyes at her but gotten up from your bunk nevertheless, admitting defeat.
You had actually been enjoying the silence in your dormitory from everyone being gone, but of course, that just had to be interrupted.
Now you were sitting there, amongst all those other people, just trying to read your book in peace. But, and honestly what else did you expect, there was the piercing set of eyes again, just watching your every move. You were actually so sick of it now. Why was this person looking at you the whole time? Why were you so interesting?
This time, you actually decided to turn around and not ignore them like you had done the other times.
You spotted her immediately. It was the woman who had frowned at you on your first day! The woman with the brown hair!
And now she was smirking at you. How was she not looking away or ashamed that you caught her?
Your eyes widened as you slowly scanned her. She was drop-dead-gorgeous. She had curves that were to die for, these stunning dark brown eyes…
You felt yourself blush and turned away. God, hadn't you promised yourself to not find anyone attractive here? Especially not people that could possibly be dangerous?
Well, you had just failed miserably and pathetically.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Someone pulled a chair up in front of you, sitting on it backwards, using the back of the chair as an armrest.
You were looking down on the ground, burying your face in your book when a finger hooked itself under your chin, tilting it up.
The drop-dead-gorgeous woman was right in front of you, her eyes scanning your face, biting her lip.
She outstretched her hand to you.
"Ouija. Nice to meet you." Her eyes shone with something you couldn't quite decipher.
"Y/N", you introduced yourself, feeling shy in front of this beautiful woman, shaking her hand. She held onto it a little longer than normal, looking you directly in your eyes.
"That's a beautiful name."
She flashed you an amused smile, recognizing your anxiousness.
"Yo, there's no need to be shy, chica" (cutie/girl), Ouija said while moving in a little closer.
"Not for a pretty girl like you at least.", she said with a lowered voice.
She smiled at you once again and you felt your cheeks heat up.
"Thank you", you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say.
Ouija smirked.
"You're welcome, muñequita" (dolly)
Fuck.
"Anyhow, what you in for, mama?", she asked, slowly leaning back again as if she didn't just audibly make you gasp.
"Drug trafficking and distribution", you answered, avoiding her gaze.
"Yo, damn! So you a 'little miss drug dealer' then?" She laughed.
"Certainly. Right hand woman of my drug lord, thank you very much", you responded, bowing your head a little. She chuckled, shaking her head.
"Impressive, yo. I like a woman in power. It's hot."
You felt yourself blush again. God, this woman somehow had the ability to make you flustered very easily.
"So, what did you do?", you questioned.
"WIC Fraud. I killed three somebody's - nobodies -", she pointed to a tattoo that she had right next to her eye, three black teardrops, "and then I get popped for fucking fraud. You believe that shit?"
You shook your head, confused as to how they didn't find out about her killing all those people but charged her for the fraud. Maybe if you had committed another crime besides the drug thing and turned yourself in, you would be facing less time. You were suddenly deep in your thoughts, wondering about that, so that you didn't notice Ouija standing up beside you.
"All right, mama, I'mma let you get back to your book here. We'll see each other around", she said optimistically.
Ouija walked back to her seat, but not without winking at you and letting her hand brush against your arm.
You didn't get the chance to ask why she had been staring at you this whole time before really introducing herself to you, but right now, that matter seemed pretty unimportant to you. You felt starstruck from the interaction with the latina, just staring at the words in your book and not being able to focus at all. The conversation had been way too short and you already wanted to talk to her more.
But what you didn't know is that you wouldn't have to wait long until the two of you would speak again. Carmen had taken a liking to you and she was ready to explore what might develop between you two. At least she already knew that she was capable of making your cheeks go red within a matter of seconds.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
You were doing research in the library, or more like trying to find one of your favorite books, Harry Potter. You were trying to find some comfort in this cold place and what better way to do it than with your favorite literature? You wandered through the fiction aisle, scanning through the books.
There it was, on the highest shelf. But, of course, as expected, you were not tall enough to reach it. You felt so incredibly pathetic right now, there was no chair in sight to help you, no stool for you to stand on.
„Yo, need some help there?“, you heard someone ask. You turned around to the voice.
It was Ouija. She was leaning against one of the shelves, smirking at your attempts to stand on your tiptoes to grab the book, of course failing miserably.
„Yes, please“, you said, just a tad embarassed.
„Which book?“, she asked.
„Harry Potter“
She nodded, reaching up, taking it out without any strain.
„So, the goblet of fire“, she said, twisting the book in her hands.
„It was one of my favorite books growing up. I’m already done with all of the books I was allowed to bring in here so I thought I’d do a little nostalgia trip“
Your fingertips touched as she passed you the book.
„I liked it too as a little kid. But my favorite book was always the chamber of secrets“
„Girl – no offense – but are you serious?“
Ouija frowned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
„What do you mean?“, she questioned, crossing her arms in front of her face.
You smiled, shaking your head.
„Nah, I don’t want to destroy your favorite childhood book for you. I have a very strong opinion when it comes to Harry Potter.“
„No worries, yo, I can handle it. Give it to me“, Ouija said lowly, tilting her head. You bit your lip, rubbing your hands together, getting ready to go.
„Well, I think Ginny’s absolutely insufferable in that book, I mean sure, she was influenced by Voldemort but still, I think it’s not right that she played the „weak, needing to be saved“ girl in that book. It’s not exactly feminist. Also I think the book doesn’t really add to the series, it’s just kind of there as a „filler“ or an information dump. Also, the thing with the diary is just unrealistic. Why wouldn’t anyone notice that it’s in Ginny’s posession? It just doesn’t make sense.“
You grit your teeth in worry, hoping you didn’t go to far.
„I’m sorry, was that too far?“, you asked.
„Nah, I think you’re right actually. Yo, I might have to rethink my favorite childhood book“, Ouija laughed, rubbing her neck.
„I’d be happy to help. I know quite a lot about the series actually“, you explained proudly.
„I figured. That pretty face can convince me of anything, man, I’m sure“
You looked down, trying to hide the blush spreading on your cheeks.
„Don’t hide it“, Ouija said, tilting your chin up. You looked up into her beautiful dark brown eyes, getting lost in them.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
It was late in the afternoon, the sun was already setting and the inmates had a few hours left to catch some air outside before the prison would close its gates, making it time for lights out. You had put on your winter coat and beanie, ready to take a little stroll in the yard. Your hands were covered in thick gloves, protecting you from the harsh January wind
Today, you were just going to take a little stroll around the yard, not that anything else was really possible here. You wish you would have some kind of space to run, get rid of all the energy that you weren’t able to put to use properly.
You were just about to round the corner at the mailbox when you heard a noise.
You stopped in your tracks when you heard someone sniffle and sob.
Frowning, you started walking towards the sound and soon you were able to make out the person who they were coming from. They had brown curly hair - Oh shit! Ouija! You stopped yourself before you were going to run over to her and make sure she's okay.
You were unsure if you should approach her at such a sensitive time.
You wouldn't know how she was going to react, the two of you had known each other barely a hot second.
But you knew that if you were alone and crying in a prison and the person discovering you had good intentions, you would want to be comforted too. And that was good enough for you. You hoped you were making the right decision.
"Ouija, hey, what's wrong?", you asked worriedly, slowly kneeling down beside her.
Her head snapped up, her eyes widening when she realized it was you. She quickly wiped her tears away, trying to find her composure. You couldn’t help but admire her, she was even pretty when she cried, her lashes were stuck together, her cheeks were flushed… God, wrong moment!! Get it together Y/N...
"Oh shit. Hey, didn't hear you coming. Yo, how's it going?"
"I'm fine, but you don't seem to be. What's the matter?"
"Nah, I'm fine, nothing to worry about", she said quickly. You raised your eyebrows, not believing anything she said.
"What? I said I’m fine, man“, Ouija spat, putting up all her defenses.
"Look, I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m not gonna judge you for showing emotion or opening up. It’s human.“
Ouija huffed, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Fuck, fine. Shit, you're stubborn, girl. It's my son. He's in the hospital because of some gang activity in his block and…I'm not there for him, man. I'm in fucking prison. And I can't do anything about it."
You sighed. You knew what she was talking about. You felt the same. Being in prison made you feel so stuck, even though you had only been there for a few days. You weren’t there for your loved ones, the world around you kept turning and changing while you were locked away. Your friends had also seemingly already forgotten about you. Maybe they were all just glad you were gone.
"Honestly, I get it. I have a little sister, she just turned 5. She's growing up so fast and in a year, she'll already be in primary school. I'm missing out on her making her first friends there, I can't help her with her homework or comfort her when she has a bad day. It's torture. So yeah, I can relate. Nothing bad happened to her yet, fortunately, but you know the world out there. I can’t protect her from the harm she might experience out there."
The two of you were silent for a second, saying nothing.
"The thing is, you can't change anything about it. As much as it sucks, you gotta figure out how to deal with that shit. You gotta trust that your son knows you love him and that you being in here has nothing to do with him."
That flipped a switch in Ouija. She did love her son, a lot. She had just got to find a way to show it to him, especially right now. A small smile spread on her face as an idea popped up in her head.
She felt your hand touch her back, stroking it slowly.
Ouija turned to you, the woman who she had been obsessed with ever since she had entered the walls of this prison. The woman who she had frowned at when she made eye contact with her at her first day. The woman who frowned back. She knew that you knew that she had watched you the first few days upon your arrival. You were just so mesmerizing to her, she somehow felt drawn to you.
"Inmates! Back inside!", you heard a guard shout loudly. You sighed. The roughness of the CO's was still something you had to get used to.
"Yo, we should probably go before it gets serious or some shit. You never know if these fuckers are gonna pull out a gun or not", Ouija said, outstretching her hand to you, desperate to get you away from possible danger.
You nodded, letting her help you up.
As you were about to walk past the guard, you noticed that your shoe was untied. You stopped, reaching down to tie it, but the CO was not having it.
„INMATE! KEEP IT MOVING! I HAVEN’T GOT ALL FUCKING DAY, YOU UNDERSTAND??!“, he shouted aggressively, about to yank you up from the ground, when Ouija threw herself inbetween you two.
From your place on the ground, you didn’t hear what she said to the CO or what made him back off of the two of you. You only saw her enraged facial expression as she turned to help you up, once again. You were in a complete state of shock, this being the first time you were properly yelled at by a guard. You felt Ouija wrap an arm around your shoulder, guiding you back inside.
„Inmate Aziza, I would fucking throw you down to the SHU, but I’m fucking exhausted from today so I will let you off EASILY because I’m so nice with just a shot. For the both of you that is!“, he spat at the two of you as you walked back inside.
Ouija saw the broken look on your face and from that point, there was no way in hell that she was ever going to leave your side. She felt protective of you suddenly, she wanted to rip that guard’s head off, no, she wanted to choke him until his words got stuck in his fucking throat for ever talking to you in that way.
She wanted to shield you from any and all bad things in this place. She wanted you to herself, wanted no one fucking near you, except for her. Her hand grabbed your shoulder tighter.
She stood in front of you, so you were facing her. Butterflies erupted in her stomach as your gaze met hers. Your eyes were so beautiful. You were slightly looking up to her, as Ouija was a bit taller than you.
„Hey, yo, are you okay, mama? That guard was pretty rough on you“, she asked you, her voice soft as velvet. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but Ouija wasn’t letting that happen. She grabbed your chin, caressing your cheek with her thumb.
„Yo, no crying, pretty woman, we’ve already had enough of that today.“
„I love that movie“, you chuckled slightly, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your shirt.
„Pretty Woman? White poor woman fucks rich white man and falls in love? Nah, that shit’s too predictable.“
„Exactly. One already knows how the movie ends, but I still like it“
Ouija scoffed, ruffling your hair. She leads you back to your dorm, glaring at Epps as the bald-headed woman was about to harass you again. Epps backed up with raised hands, whispering:
„I wasn’t even about to do anything...“
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
You were casually walking to the showers, towel and toiletries in hand. It was 5am in the morning, so the line wasn't long.
You had gotten up early for the hot water, your bunkmate Epps complaining that you were making too much noise, disrupting her very important sleep. There were only 2 hours until she had to get up anyway. Epps luckily hadn’t bothered you too much the past few days, thanks to Ouija, who had given her death glares whenever the two of you had been hanging around each other, which had been quite often. You had spent most of your time with her, she had helped you settle into the prison and made you laugh almost all the time. You had been there for her during all the announcements she got from the hospital about her son and celebrated with her when the doctor told her that he was going to be okay.
You hadn’t really gotten acquainted with any of the other women at the prison, as every time you tried to talk to one of them, you felt Ouija’s glare on the both of you or you got pulled away from the other person because she suddenly „needed to talk to you very urgently“. Of course you knew that she was jealous somehow, even though she had no reason to be. One of the times when she had dragged you away, the two of you had gone to the chapel. Ouija hadn’t said anything as she had taken your hand and pulled you along with her.
She had lifted you onto the stage, where performances or speeches were given, but kept standing on the ground herself. She still stayed silent as she locked eyes with you and slowly ran one of her hands up your thigh. She leaned in a little bit when her hand reached the waistband of your pants, her eyes on your lips. You could basically feel the electricity sizzling between the two of you. It was like the two of you were always meant to end up so close to each other, like this. Your foreheads were already touching, your lips barely inches away from each other, when the door to the chapel slammed shut and the both of you immediately flew off of each other. Pidge was calling for Ouija, telling her that Maria was calling a meeting. Ouija, frustrated, promising you she would be back for you, „continuing where you left of“. And now you were here.
You stepped into one of the shower cabinets, turning on the shower head.
You sighed as the warm water washed over your body, immediately making you sleepy again. You hadn’t slept really well with that racist woman Epps beneath you. You never knew what she might do and you always had to sleep with one eye open. It was exhausting and definitely took a strain on your body.
"Mornin', muñequita."
You turned around to the voice, looking directly into Ouija's eyes. She looked a little sleepy, but her half-closed eyes were still roaming your body, drinking in your frame. With just a look, she was able to to make you sweat, blush, avoid her gaze… it was nerve-wracking. With a towel wrapped around your body, you stepped outside of the shower and towards the fully dressed Ouija.
"Hey there“, you answered, yawning.
"How you doing, mama?"
"I'm good, a little tired still." She nodded understandingly.
"Glad my pretty girl is doing well", she smiled, leaning against the wall.
You blushed a little and looked to your feet, trying to hide your reddened cheeks.
"Yo, come over here, mama", she beckoned.
You looked left and right to check if anyone was there who could possibly see you before you moved out of the shower cabin and over to where Ouija was standing.
As soon as you were standing in front of her Ouija grabbed your shoulders and pulled you close, wrapping her arms around your lower torso. She pressed a kiss to your forehead, allowing you to rest your head on her chest.
„Y/N?“
„Yeah?“
„I wanted to say thanks for the time you found me..you know, crying, and comforted me and shit. I didn’t deserve that and I’m still a shit mom, but I talked to my son on the phone and...he’s coming to visitation next week“
You squealed in excitement, jumping up a little bit, so excited for Ouija.
„Ouija, that’s great! I’m so happy for you!“
You wrapped your arms around her neck , embracing her in a hug.
Ouija grabbed you by your hips and switched positions so that now you were pressed against the wall. Both of her hands were placed next to your head while yours were busy holding up that towel of yours.
„You’re so cute when you’re happy, you know that?“, Ouija asked, biting her bottom lip. She leaned in closer, taking your face inbetween her hands. Your eyes closed in anticipation, ready to finally connect with her, to finally feel the full extent of the electricity between you too. She leaned in, leaned in, you started feeling dizzy of her scent, of her presence...
BANG! The metal door to the showers slammed shut, loud voices coming from the doorway. Ouija immediately let go of you, distancing herself, and as some of the other inmates walked past you and entered the showers, you tried to act as nothing had happened before. You exchanged a frustrated glance with her, were you ever going to be able to kiss?
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
It was your bunkmate Epps' birthday and she made like this whole deal out of it. Almost everyone in this prison was invited, including you and Ouija and almost every single lesbian which was weird, since Epps was definitely homophobic.
But she and her friends did know how to throw a party, you had to leave her that. There was a snack bar with drinks, a dance floor and colorful garlands reading "happy birthday".
You had just entered the overfilled room, completely overwhelmed, not knowing what to do or where to stand or where to sit. You were looking around for Ouija, finding her in a corner of the room, next to Pidge and Zirconia.
She was staring down everyone in the room, a grumpy expression on her face. You know how frustrated she had been the past few days, you were about to kiss two times, but always had been interrupted by one of the other inmates. Privacy was basically non-existent in prison and by now, the two of you were so desperate to kiss, you almost felt like two pathetic lesbian teenage girls.
You were walking towards her, pushing through the crowd, and as you approached them, Zirconia noticed you, her face lighting up.
"Y/N! Hi!", she exclaimed happily.
Ouija's head immediately snapped in your direction and her entire demeanor changed. Her grumpy face disappeared, her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her lips.
"Well, yo, look who showed up!", she said, genuinely happy to see you.
You smiled at her and Pidge.
You looked around for a chair to pull up next to the group, but of course, every single one was taken. This did not go unnoticed by Ouija and she certainly did not seem too unhappy about this fact as her smirk widened.
"Come, muñeca, you can sit here", she said, pointing to her man spread legs. Damn, you thought, really really wanting to, but not being sure if it might be risky. You looked around to see if anyone was looking except for Zirconia and Pidge, but everyone was too focused on themselves to even slightly care about the two of you. And even so, you didn’t care.
You lowered yourself onto her lap and immediately felt her arms tightly wrap around your torso.
„Good girl, put those pretty thighs on me“, she whispered in your ear, her hand stroking your leg softly. Your eyes widened, the familiar blush spreading on your cheeks. „Mi amor, mio todo mio“, (my love, mine all mine) she mumbled, placing a kiss on your shoulder.
The evening progressed without anyone even looking at you. You sat on Ouija’s lap the entire time, wondering how it wasn’t taking a strain on her legs, conversing with her, Zirconia and Pidge. You did not once go to the buffet because you were so immersed in the conversation you were having with them but nevertheless, you were thirsty.
„I’ll just get something to drink really quick, do you want anything?“, you said to Ouija, hopping off of her lap.
„Nah, I’m good, thanks though“
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
You were standing at the bar, deciding what drink you were going to get, not that there were a lot of options, this was prison after all. Possibilities weren’t exactly endless.
„Hi there“, a voice greeted you, coming out of nowhere.
You jumped, letting out a little shriek.
„Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you“, the woman next to you said worriedly, but you only laughed.
„It’s fine, I get scared easily.“
„You’re new here right?“, she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
„Yeah, I arrived here about two weeks ago, so my stay hasn’t exactly been long“
„Ah, so a newbie. That’s why I haven’t seen you around.“
You nodded, conversing in a little small talk with her. You already felt Ouija staring at you, knowing it was because of her protective and posessive nature, but you also wanted friends in here. You needed other people that you could rely on.
The woman, who turned out to be called Carla was telling you funny stories about other prisons she had been at and interactions she had with other inmates there and here at Litchfield.
You laughed loudly, finding her absolutely hilarious. While you and the woman were joking around, Ouija was boiling with anger and jealousy. She tried to keep her cool, „take a fucking chill pill“, like Zirconia had advised her. But it was really hard when she hadn’t even kissed you yet, didn’t even get to call you hers yet. Maybe the possibility of somebody else still being able to snatch you away was giving her the nerves. Maybe she would be more relaxed if she knew you were really hers.
Maybe. But right now, she just wanted to get you the fuck away from that other woman.
As you kept talking with Carla, you felt her put her hand on your waist.
„Um…“, you mumbled, looking over to Ouija. That was Carmen Aziza’s last straw. Nobody would touch her girl, not like that.
She stormed over to where you were standing and pushed the other woman off of you and to the ground where she landed with a loud bang. She stood over the woman, placing her thick boot onto her chest, compromising her airways.
„Touch her again and yo“, she laughed bitterly, „I’ll fuck you up“.
Before you could properly register what was happening, you felt yourself being grabbed by the wrist and pulled away. You didn’t know where you were going, as you were still finding your way around the prison, when you reached the door to the library. It was completely silent, the only sound being you getting pushed against one of the shelves.
Ouija stood in front of you, placing one of her hands beside your head. She used the other one to harshly grab your chin, lifting it up so you were looking at her. Her facial expression was one of anger, jealousy and displeasement.
„I don’t know who that other woman thinks she is, but she better know that you’re mine. Ever since you stepped into the walls of this prison, shit, I knew I had to have you. You're mine, amorcita. You're all mine and yo, guess what? I ain't about fucking sharing. I can’t hide how I feel about you anymore, munequita. Not when 1000 other bitches are this close to you every day. I love you.“
Ouija’s face was full of worry, anticipation of what you thought of her confession, if you felt the same.
„I’m yours“, you said, breathless, and that was all it took for Ouija to smash her lips against you and press you further into the wooden shelves. Her scent intoxicated you, all you saw, smelled, heard, touched was her. She was your whole world and you were hers. Her warm body was pressing into yours, her hands were roaming your body, diving underneath your shirt. Finally, you could do what you waited so long for. Her hands were in your hair, her tongue was dancing with yours. You forgot that you were in prison, you forgot about the world around you.
All there was, was you and her. Your love, yours all yours.
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alpaca-clouds · 9 months
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How to survive the heat
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Okay, let me talk about something else.
The climate is changing and it is getting hotter. The summers especially are getting hotter and hotter by the year and a lot of people are struggling with it.
As my American friends keep reminding me: The US - at least those areas, that have always been kinda hot - has usually ACs for most buildings. But someone sitting in Germany I can guarantee you: Most of us do not. At least not outside of commercial buildings like shopping malls and office buildings.
And still, we have temperatures over 30°C - at times going up to 40°C (that is like 86° - 104° in freedom units) - and somehow have to survive in here. So, as someone sitting in an attic flat with no AC in sight, let me talk survival.
Why heat is dangerous
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Let me quickly talk about heat and why it is dangerous to us. And let me make it clear: Yes, heat is dangerous. Heat usually kills more people than any other type of extreme weather. Because while you can protect against most other weather, the heat is not that easy.
Our human fleshbags usually function best around 37°C (which is like 98.7°F) and to keep itself at around that temperature. When we are cold, our body burns energy to warm itself up. When we are hot, we produce sweat so that our bodies can cool of via evaporation.
The issue is, that our bodies are only able to do that in certain temperatures effectively.
And if we cannot cool off, our body will slowly fail. Additionally we might sweat so much, that we loose too much water through sweat, our bodies might shut off, too.
Just a quick graphic here. Just to make you aware. Because heat is dangerous.
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So, let us talk about something.
How to survive the heat without an AC?
Let me talk about my best friend during the summer heat: The fan. With that I mean the nice electric fan that keeps the air moving. Yes, it burns energy and that sucks, but with the air moving, our sweat can better evaporate, hence cooling us down.
Another thing that might help as well, is a device removing air humidity - because this, too, helps with sweating.
Then, of course, there is the good one: Air out your apartments early in the morning or throughout the night. When it is still cool. Then close up the windows during the day and close and curtains and blinds. If you do not have blinds, you might consider putting something against the windows from the outside. I personally use medical foil blankets, that are made to keep temperatures regulated. But please, please, if you do that: Put them up outside. Because otherwise it might harm the glass of the window. (And yes, sadly I have to remind you, too that you need to check with your landlord if this is okay.)
Another thing that might help you: Fill bottles with water and freeze them. Then put them up in the highest place in your room. This can lower the temperature in your room for a couple degrees. It is a very easy hack that works quite well.
Now, you might have heard about that drinking cold drinks is bad and that instead you actually should drink hot drinks. The science behind it is basically, that cold drinks do kinda cancel themselves out. Yes, cold drinks and ice cream cool down the inside of the body, but with it, it will also tell the body not to sweat. Because of that, you win nothing, but you also loose nothing. The natural temperature regulation gets stopped for a while, but for the same while your body gets cooled by the cold drink. So... It's alright. Do it the way you like. And yes, even though sweating is a good and healthy thing in the heat... It also kinda sucks.
Most importantly though: Drink. And drink something non-alcoholic. (Because alcohol dehydrates the body.) Other than that, it really does not matter what you drink. If it is hot or cold. Just make sure you drink about 2-3 liters a day. To make up for the loss of water through sweating.
The last tip I have is not good for the introverted. But... You might wanna consider spend your days in a place that is climatized. I usually sit in the office even on my off days, because it has a passive cooling system (yes, fancy sustainable stuff even!) and during the weekends I often go to the university library, because it is nice and climate controlled there.
Would I love to lounge around at home instead? Yes. Yes, I would. But... Beggers can't be choosers. And even my autistic ass prefers sitting in the library to having a heat stroke. Because yes, I had a heat stroke once. I cannot recommend it.
So, that said: Stay chilly.
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thegurlwhoisntthere · 4 months
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Okay, so I can’t believe I’m writing this, the Maribat/Daminette fandom has me by the throat so, here we are
There are a lot of fics where Damian comes to Paris and they click and he gets the Black cat miraculous for various reasons, and also a lot where Marinette goes to Gotham with generally the same outcomes, but what about a fic where Damian and his class go on a trip to Paris before Hawkmoth first attacks.
Like, he’s 13 and forced into this trip because the fam wants him to experience more than just being a vigilante and he hates it. His school has a program with Marinette’s, so at the beginning of the year they pack up and plan to spend two weeks in Paris.
This trip just so happens to coincide with when Master Fu is looking for his new Ladybug and Black Cat (y’all see where I’m going with this?)
In this Au, Adrien makes it to the school sooner and misses Master Fu because he’s testing Marinette. Adrien still gets to go to school, because he deserves happiness, but he’s able to get there the first day, and so avoids the whole gum thing that make Marinette hate him, but also sees what Chloe does to Marinette which really changes his initial perspective of school. He would definitely be a temp hero later, but he gets to enjoy being a normal rebellious teen.
Anyway, so Adrien Misses Fu, so who’s going to be the Cat? Well, Damian’s school pulls up at the same time Adrien would have.
The class stops to do a head count and give the general speech of why they’re there in front of the school and Damian’s planning on slipping away because he’s 13 and thinks this is all a waste of his time. He thinks that if he can make it back to the hotel without anyone noticing he’ll be able to make an argument that they forgot him and that he should be allowed to go home (can you see where I’m taking my inspiration from?). Unfortunately for him, Fu sees this and does his test (the fall). All his classmates don’t do anything because they’re from Gotham and are suspicious of everything (and also it’s Paris and they don’t want to be scammed) and the teachers don’t notice. Damian, however, does notice. He considers leaving anyway because it’s not his problem, but he’s been Robin for almost 3 or 4 years at this point and, contrary to what some people might say, has grown a lot. He would feel guilty and maybe even a little unworthy of Robin if he didn’t stop for 2 seconds to help this old man up.
It goes quite similarly to how it did with Adrien, he helps Fu up, but gets caught and can no longer run away from the class.
Basically, this au is a “what if Damian was The Black Cat from the start?”
I have a lot more ideas, but here’s just a few:
Damian isn’t Chat Noir, but I haven’t looked up any cat related names that he could be yet.
As the cat, Damian acts a lot more fun than he normally would allow himself. He’s not Chat Noir level, but this is the first time in his life where literally no one knows who he is and is monitoring his behavior, nor does he have anyone’s expectations on him for who he should be.
He’s initially annoyed with Ladybug, because she’s so clearly untrained, unconfident, and unprepared, but then she comes up with the plan that shows what she could be capable of, and the speech and he might have a crush, but brushes it off as grudgingly respecting her
He 100% plans on training her and their partnership is more equal than what the show portrays it as, because one of my main problems with the actual show is that chat noir, despite being her partner is often shoved aside and given the sidekick role
Damian doesn’t tell his family what’s happening. As far as they’re aware, Paris is fine. Normally he would have, but he had no time until after the fight and he really enjoyed being the cat that he’s like “I’ll tell them later” which keeps being pushed back.
At the end of the trip he somehow talks his family into letting him actually transfer to Paris so he can stay as the cat
He is baffled that this works, but they are all so happy that he’s taking an interest in something other than Robin and Superheroing that they jump on letting him before realizing that it means he’s gonna be in Paris for months.
Dick is sad about this later, so is Bruce and Alfred and the others, but he’s the most vocal about it.
Damian is also baffled that they haven’t figured out what’s going on by now and as everyday passes he gets more and more annoyed by the fact that his so called family of detectives have realized that he’s decided if they can’t figure it out, he’s not telling them.
He has not figured out that magic is preventing knowledge of this from leaving Paris and even if it didn’t, Magic is protecting his identity.
He acts annoyed by Plagg, but he actually loves him so much
His cat outfit is still fun with the ears and tail, but it’s a lot more elaborate and has a utility belt and a lot of hidden things
In fact, because it’s so elaborate, Marinette’s boring suit only stays for the first time she transforms. Once the fight finishes her little fashion designer brain can’t stop thinking about it and comes up with a new design after consulting Tikki.
Of course, she only has the idea of the costume down, because by the time they finalize it, she sees the news and has her depression moment, so the first time she wears it is when she saves Alya.
Due to this first change, her outfit would constantly be changing throughout her time as Ladybug, as she learns more about fighting and what she’s comfortable with, as well as what’s actually possible with magic and the miraculous.
By the end of the year her firs are going to be crazy (wait till she finds out she can change her actual eyes (both color and the pupils and-) hair colors and length)
She will eventually bully Damian into making some changes but he’s generally happy with the first design.
They also know each others identities a lot sooner because Damian actually knows the benefits and his cold logic is able to cut through a lot of her anxiety.
It still doesn’t happen until at least the second season tho.
Y’all I have so much more, but this is getting long and I’ve got things to do so tell me if u want more or feel free to add your own ideas!!!
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2:54 AM
tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
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summary: you want to know why peter's been distant lately.
warning: injuries, mentions of typical spiderman violence yk, my inability to write a crime accurately (don't look into it too much), reader's a little oblivious to the obvious.
wc: ± 3000
a/n: i hate this endingg!!!! but i need this out of my drafts. let's also pretend that this trope is so original and not overused at all lmao. requests open:)
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The incessant ticking of the clock above your head was beginning to piss you off.
The small restaurant was fairly busy, no one would've even be able to hear it, but you'd chosen the table next to the window–the one with the clock hanging on the wall adjacent to the big glass pane. You'd chosen this table because it was Peter's favorite. He loved watching the bustling city outside as the two of you enjoyed your meals.
You'd think that after living in the city as long as he has, that the scenery would have bore him by now, but he absolutely loved people watching. He could spend hours sitting outside on the rooftop or by the big window in your bedroom, just staring down at the people and cars going about their day or night. He could find entertainment in some of the most mundane activities, and that was one of the many things you adored about your boyfriend.
Right now, however, it was hard to think of how you much you adored him, but rather how mad you were at him. Tonight was your and Peter's six month anniversary, and although you weren't one to celebrate every little milestone, Peter had insisted that you go out for the night. Ironic, since he's not even here right now you thought.
You looked down at your wristwatch, almost in a way to spite the big one that hung right above you, and checked the time. It was a forty-eight minutes past eight. You'd been sitting here for almost 50 minutes waiting for Peter to show up.
You checked your phone, praying he had left a message saying that he was on his way, that he was just running late, but the empty lockscreen staring back at you only made a knot form deep in your belly.
Wait till nine, your mind tried convincing you. He's probably just really caught up at work. So you waited impatiently, your heeled foot nearly tapping a hole into the restaurant floor. After a few more minutes, your waitress approached your table. This was her second time at your table; she had come around first at around twenty minutes past eight, and you had kindly asked her to give you some more time, because you were waiting for someone.
You could see the pity on her face, her probably thinking you got stood up. But you weren't getting stood up, because Peter was just a bit late, and in a few minutes he'd walk through the door and the two of you'd enjoy a wonderful dinner. At least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself.
"Are you ready to order ma'am?" the waitress asked politely. You shook your head, putting on your most convincing smile. "No not yet, I'm waiting for my boyfriend, he'll be here any minute," you said. The pity on her face only seemed to increase. She gave you a weak smile and a nod, and went on her way to help another table.
You glanced up at the small TV that was displayed against the wall on the other side of the small restaurant. It was replaying an old football game from the previous week, before being interrupted by a local news channel's lives broadcast. The TV was muted, but you could see the headline at the bottom of the screen in big bold letters as the reporter stood gesturing at the scene behind her:
SPIDER-MAN TO THE RESCUE ONCE AGAIN
The fact that the city quite literally had it's own superhero always amazed you. Here this random guy was, jumping around in a blue and red suit, fighting bad guys and catching criminals, basically doing the cops' jobs and for free.
You've never had any personal encounters with the elusive hero, but you've heard enough stories from people about him, about how charming and slightly cocky he was and how they so desperately wanted to know who hid beneath the mask. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit curious to know too.
On the screen you could see Spider-Man lowering people from the second floor of some building by his webs. After lowering everyone to safety, he dissappeared back inside the building. It seemed to be some kind of hostage situation, people scurrying around confusedly and police cars surrounding the building.
You were so enthralled by the scene playing out on the screen that you hadn't noticed how much time had passed. When you looked at the little clock being displayed in the corner of the TV, your heart sank once again.
21:05
It was five minutes past nine, and no Peter in sight. You could feel your cheeks burning up from anger. A whole hour. Peter made you wait a whole hour, and it didn't look like he was gonna come any time soon. The anger was quickly replaced by sadness, the tears of frustration already fighting to fall from your eyes. You made your way over to the counter of the restaurant, apologizing for wasting their time and tipping your waitress for her effort, before making your way to the door.
It felt like everyone's eyes were on you. They could all probably tell you've been stood up too. There was no other reason for a girl to be walking out of a restaurant after ordering nothing for an hour with her head down and tail between her legs like a kicked dog.
The air outside was refreshing. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down your racing heart and somehow will the tears away. It was no use; after months of forced stoicism and pretending like Peter's recent negligence didn't hurt, the dam finally broke. You decided to take the walk to your apartment rather than hailing a cab, reasoning that the cool city air would do you good.
On your walk, the sobs continued to leave your mouth quietly. You missed your boyfriend, you missed being able to spend time with him and just be around him. The two of you worked at different times and lived on different sides of the city, so it was already hard to find a time when both of you were free.
The two of you hadn't been together for too long, but it truly felt like Peter was the one for you. When you first made things official you couldn't stay away from each other for too long. You always went on little dates and would meet up whenever the both of you were free, but recently your boyfriend's been very distant and you've been seeing less and less of him. Tonight had been the third date where he'd stood you up, and you couldn't help but think the worst.
What if he was seeing someone else? What if he didn't enjoy being with me anymore and this was his way of asking to break up?
The thoughts left your mind as soon as they were conjured up in your brain. Peter would never do anything like that to you. Not your Peter. He was the sweetest guy you had ever been with and there wasn't a day he wasn't telling you how lucky he was to be with you, or how pretty he thought you were and how much he loved you.
Even on the days the two of you weren't together (which were almost always lately), he'd still send you messages telling you how much he missed you, or would send flowers to your apartment when he knew you were feeling down and he couldn't be there.
Peter was a sweetheart, but you still couldn't help but wonder why he'd been so distant lately. You pulled your phone from your purse, quickly checking to see if he had left a message yet, but still nothing. You shoved your phone back into your purse angrily and started walking faster. All you needed right now was a hot shower and your bed.
As you entered your apartment you hastily toed off your shoes at the door and threw your purse on the nearest table. After a long, piping hot shower and a bowl of leftovers (you still being hungry due to your failed dinner plans), you decided to head to bed, where you cried some more before falling asleep.
A loud banging woke you up in the middle of the night. You checked the alarm clock on your nightstand, and when it read 2:54 AM, you turned yourself back around and ignored whoever chose to bother you at this ungodly hour.
Not even a minute passed before the knocking returned, this time followed by a shout of your name, not loud enough to wake up the whole floor but loud enough for you to hear. When you recognized Peter's voice, you groaned, kicking the covers from yourself begrudgingly before dragging yourself to the door.
You pulled it open aggressively, and when you were met with Peter's silhouette slouching against the doorframe, his head hanging low, all the angry words you had for him sat stuck in your throat. He looked up at you and his big brown eyes found yours in the dark of the hallway. He gave you a weak smile and you had to fight everything inside you to not smile back, reminding yourself why you were mad at him.
"Hi, sweetheart," he whispered. All the anger suddenly returned, and you found yourself slamming the door in his face, but before it could fully close, he blocked it with his foot and invited himself in. When he got out of the dark hallways and inside your apartment, you noticed the bouquet of flowers he held tightly in his hand. They looked like they had been through a lot, and the dress shirt he was wearing (most likely for your date) was untucked and heavily wrinkled.
"I don't want to talk to you," you said, turning your entire body away from him and crossing your arms like an arrogant child, trying to get him to leave, but he was stubborn, putting the flowers on the nearest table, gripping your arms and turning you to face him again. You refused to make eye contact, rather looking down at his pair of dirty sneakers. "I know, but let me explain myself please—"
"And say what?!" you snapped. You hadn't realized how loud you were until you saw Peter flinch slightly, his grip on you still not loosening. "What are you gonna say Peter? You got caught up at work? You had an 'emergency'? You—" when you finally looked him in the face, you got a good look at him in the warm light of your living room/kitchen.
He had a lot of bruising around his face, a rapidly darkening black eye and a busted lip. You looked down at the arms still holding onto you, and you could see similar marks lining his arms. Most of them looked very fresh.
This was another part of Peter that added to up sleepless nights, worrying yourself sick over your boyfriend. He always seemed to have some sort of bruise whenever you'd meet up. Sometimes it was something small like a cut across his eyebrow or a nasty gash on his cheek, and other times it was way more major, like the one time he showed up to a coffee date with a broken arm after being just fine three days prior.
The best part was how fast he'd heal too, no less than a weak and he'd look perfectly fine. It didn't make you feel any better though, and you'd still worry about where he was getting beat up like this.
You tried asking him about it, multiple times, but every time he would just cover it up with a lame joke or just completely try to change the subject. You stopped asking after a while, but that didn't mean you weren't concerned about his safety and curious about what was causing all of these injuries.
"Peter what happened to you? Your face? Are you—" you wanted to reach out and touch his face, but he stopped you with a hand that quickly caught your wrist. "I'm okay," he said, smiling sweetly and giving your wrist a quick kiss, before letting go of your hand. "No you're not. C'mon lemme clean you up," you said grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bathroom, almost completely forgetting about the argument.
The patter of your socked feet filled the quiet of the apartment as you led Peter to the bathroom. You sat him down on the toilet seat and quietly moved around the almost-too-small bathroom, opening up the medicine cabinet above the sink to retrieve the first aid kit. You started to clean the small cuts and gashes on his face.
His hands hesitated before making their way to your waist, holding onto your hips. Every time one of the cuts would sting, his grip would tighten slightly. The silence stretched on while you continued to patch him up, and after a while you decided to speak up.
"Look, Peter, I understand if you don't wanna, y'know be with me anymore, but even if we were to break up I'd still be concerned about you. I don't like seeing you get hurt and i can't help if—"
"Woah, hey what?" Peter interrupted your rambling, "I don't want to break up." "Then why do you keep canceling our plans, how come I never see you anymore?" you asked, pausing the work on his face. He winced slighty when he noticed your anger had returned.
"I've just...I've been busy, sweetheart," he said softly. "I've been busy too Peter, but I make time, because I wanna see you, and because I miss you like crazy. Do you even miss like you say you do? Because it surely doesn't show."
"Of course I do!" Peter said, the grip he had on you unconsciously tightening again. "Then why don't you make time?!" you said, the tears of frustration quickly returning to your eyes, "and what about all these bruises, huh? Every time I see you you're hurt somehow and I don't like that, 'cause I don't like seeing you hurt, Peter." By now a few tears had already unwillingly fallen, and you tried to swiftly wipe them away with the sleeve of your sweater.
It both warmed and broke Peter's heart to know that you were so worried about him. He really did miss spending time with you; you were his best friend and he loved being around you. He didn't want you knowing about him being Spider-Man, because he didn't want to put you in any danger. He wanted to keep you as far away from that part of his life as possible, you meant too much to him and he wouldn't forgive himself if anything happened to you.
He wanted to tell you on many occasions, he'd come close too many times to count, but he'd stop himself each time.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. "Don't apologize, just talk to me, please," you said brushing your fingers through his soft brown hair. The action calmed both you and him down, and he closed his eyes for a moment, appreciating your touch. It was then when he realized how much he missed your touch, how much he missed you, and being close to you. He felt like he hadn't talked to you, or really even seen you in forever.
Peter didn't know what to say, he wanted to be honest with you, wanted to tell you so bad, but he wanted to protect you above all else. The silence between the two of you stretched on until you sighed, removing your hands from him completely and sighing.
He started panicking, he knew what this meant. You were going to break up with him, tell him to get out and never talk to him again, and even the thought alone made his heart sink down to his feet. He braced himself for the inevitable, retracting his hands from your waist and getting ready to get up and leave.
"It's really late, would you like to stay the night?"
He was definitely not expecting you to say that, and the look on his face certainly told you that. "Are you sure?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. "I don't want to taking the train at this time. You can take a shower while I reheat some leftovers for you," you replied dryly, making your way out the bathroom and to the kitchen.
Peter took your advice, still not sure why you weren't screaming at him to get out of your apartment. After a brief shower, he found some of the clothes you had borrowed from him folded neatly on the toilet seat. He put them on and made his way over to the kitchen. After a much appreciated meal the two of you made your way over to your bedroom.
He found himself immediately moving towards the small plush chair that stood by the big window, lowering himself into it and staring down at the city. You stood next to him quietly, placing your hand on his head and running your fingers through the strands once again.
"I promise I'll tell you one day," Peter whispered, turning his head to look up at you. "I know," you replied, "until then, I'll just patch you up when needed."
You wanted so badly to understand what was going on with Peter, but you knew that there was no getting through to him now, because he was stubborn as hell. So you'd take what you could get for now. And in return he'd try and be there more for you, because he missed you, and the selfish part of him loved you too much to let you go, even if that were the right thing to do.
"How about you move in with me?"
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