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#but that had a little too much reference already associated with it
spacerockband · 29 days
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Legend tells of the carp that leapt over the Dragon Gate at the crest of a river and became a stand up comedian.
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hoshigray · 5 months
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𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah
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“That one was weak; do another three.”
“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”
“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”
We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!
Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!
Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 
But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”
“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”
Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 
Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.
But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.
He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.
Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 
Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.
And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 
Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”
Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”
That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”
You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”
“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”
Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.
“…Five minutes.” 
“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.
Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 
No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  
Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!
In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??
Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—
“Y/n?”
You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!
Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!
“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“
“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”
You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”
The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”
“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.
“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”
No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.
“How was it today?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“The workout. How was it?”
“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 
“And why is that?”
Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”
He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 
His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—
“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 
“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“
“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”
“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!
Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”
Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“
“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”
Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 
The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.
“How come?”
For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“
“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 
Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“
“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 
“Right…”
“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”
“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.
His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 
The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“
“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 
“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”
Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 
“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”
“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”
And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.
The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.
The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.
Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.
“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 
The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”
And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.
Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.
You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 
“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”
His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.
“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”
KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!
Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—
Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  
“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 
“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”
“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…
Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.
“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 
“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"
With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 
“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 
Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.
“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 
“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”
“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.
“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”
Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.
A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 
“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”
By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.
But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.
Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 
“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 
Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 
But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.
“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 
“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”
“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 
“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”
Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”
He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 
“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 
That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 
The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 
Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 
The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.
“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 
Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”
Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 
“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 
With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.
RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 
The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 
“Hey, is that you, Ino?”
“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”
“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”
“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”
Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”
“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”
“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“
“Ahaahhnn!!”
A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”
Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?
How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.
“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”
Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.
“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”
“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”
“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 
And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”
He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”
That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”
He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”
Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…
…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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gotham-daydreams · 9 months
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How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.
I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!
I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.
Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.
Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.
Nevertheless, back to the reader!
From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.
One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.
Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!
They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.
Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.
When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.
So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.
Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.
It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.
Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.
The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.
The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.
It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.
Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.
However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.
Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.
You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.
Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!
Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.
So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.
Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.
He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.
No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.
Let's just say, things work out a little too well.
---
As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!
Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!
I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.
So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.
This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.
... Hopefully.
I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.
Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.
Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.
Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.
The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!
Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.
Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)
I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.
Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.
The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.
So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.
Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.
Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.
So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.
I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?
So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.
I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!
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happy74827 · 7 months
Text
Late Night Serenity
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[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Harvey doesn’t particularly let out his feelings much, so when you get a call in the middle of the night, completely unannounced, it’s safe to say you’re there within a heartbeat.
WC: 1134
Category: Slight Angst, Comfort
I wrote this at 3am after watching an edit... yeah, not my brightest moment. But hey, this beauty came out of it :)
『••✎••』
“Harvey…?” You spoke into the phone, a little concerned as to why he called you at such a late hour. You were already in bed and about to fall asleep.
There was a short silence before he answered, almost as if he was waiting for the right words.
Finally, he replied, and you heard the slight hesitation in his voice, the uncertainty, and the exhaustion.
"Yeah?"
You were instantly on alert, but you made your voice calm and soft so he wouldn't hear your worry. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?"
There was another pause, this one longer than the first. Your worry increased. You sat up, already pulling on a sweater, trying to get ready to go to Harvey's.
"No. No, it's alright. I just wanted to hear your voice. Sorry to wake you."
Your mind raced, trying to decipher Harvey's words and the hidden meaning behind them. His tone wasn't right; it was too quiet and too sad, nothing like the normal cocky, self-assured, sometimes slightly arrogant tone.
"You didn't wake me. Is something wrong, Harvey?"
You heard him sigh, then the sound of a door shutting and the muffled sounds of the city streets. He must have stepped out of his office, maybe gone outside.
"No. Everything is fine; It's okay. Go back to bed."
He didn't sound okay. In fact, he sounded a bit upset, though not like he was angry, more like he was frustrated.
You slipped on your shoes and coat, grabbed your keys and wallet, and quietly opened the door.
"Where are you? Home? I'll meet you there."
"What? No, no, that's not-"
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Wait for me, okay? Don't go anywhere."
You could almost hear him frown through the phone. "I can't ask you to do that. You don't have to.”
"Harvey," you interrupted him again. "I'm coming, alright? See you soon."
You hung up before he could protest more and drove as fast as you could to his apartment.
Once you arrived, you saw that Harvey was waiting for you outside. He looked exhausted and was staring up at the sky, his hands in his pockets. He was still in his work suit but had taken off his tie and jacket, leaving his top few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up.
"Harvey?"
He jumped slightly and looked over at you. The moment he saw you, he relaxed and gave a half smile, but you could tell he was still worried.
“Hey, Bumblebee,” His nickname for you. You had told him how you hated bees when you were younger and had a fear of being stung, and ever since, he had called you Bumblebee, telling you that you were the cutest little bumblebee. It was definitely meant to be teasing, but somehow, the way he said it was never mean or rude, and you secretly loved it no matter how much you’d deny it.
“What was it? Mike?” You guessed, referring to Harvey's associate, whom he had taken under his wing a while back. Harvey shook his head.
"Jessica, actually."
You raised an eyebrow.
"She found out and wants me to fire him. But I can't, I just can't, not now."
"I’m sorry, Harv, but you knew it was a risk, right? She had to have found out eventually.”
"Yeah, I know, I just thought maybe... maybe I wouldn't have to, and we could figure something out. He’s got so much potential.”
Harvey looked down and sighed. He looked so tired, but you knew his mind was racing, always trying to find a way to fix things. He had been working with Mike for a while now, and even though he would never admit it, you knew Harvey cared about him and had grown attached to his presence.
And when Harvey gets attached, he hates to lose.
Your hands found his arms, and you squeezed gently, trying to reassure him. You had done this plenty of times in the past, and you knew it worked.
"Look at me," you told him, and he did. His dark brown eyes met yours, and you were almost startled by the amount of emotion in them. He was always good at hiding how he felt, but you could see through his mask, and you saw how upset he was.
"You’ll figure it out; you always do. And even if somehow you don't, it's not the end of the world. He could always… you know, actually, go to law school."
Harvey laughed quietly, and the sound warmed your heart. He was finally relaxing, slowly calming down.
"No, that's not an option," he replied.
"Right. I forgot how stubborn you both are."
You smiled, and Harvey smiled back. He had the most wonderful smile, the kind that always made you happy no matter what was happening.
"I'm glad you came," Harvey said, taking a step closer. His hands found your waist, and yours reached up to wrap around his neck. You could feel the warmth from his body through your clothes, and you leaned in, resting your head against his chest.
"Me too. Especially when you’re in a mellow mood," you teased. Harvey chuckled and rubbed your back. “That's rare."
"Hey," Harvey replied, feigning offense. "I'm not always a dick, you know."
"About eighty percent of the time," you grinned, looking up at him. Harvey's smile faded, and his eyes locked on yours, gazing at you with a certain intensity that made your breath catch.
You stared at each other for a few moments, neither one of you moving, until Harvey suddenly leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, his hand cupping your cheek and the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you against him.
The kiss was slow and sweet but full of all the emotions that neither of you could say. There was no rush, no desperate passion or need, just the two of you together.
After a while, Harvey pulled away but kept his forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
He didn’t say anything, but you knew exactly what he was thinking. You had spent enough time with him to be able to read him perfectly.
Thank you.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for caring.
Thank you for being mine.
You reached up and kissed his nose.
"Love you," you whispered.
"I know," Harvey replied. His lips turned up into a smirk, and you rolled your eyes, trying to act annoyed but not doing a very good job of it.
“You’re proving my point, Harv.”
Harvey shrugged. "But you love me anyway, right?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I really do."
“Good,” His lips brushed against yours, and his smile was still there, but his eyes were serious. “Glad to know we feel the same way.”
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ineffable-suffering · 7 months
Text
The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie
Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley
Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.
So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:
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(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)
As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.
When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.
Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.
Ergo:
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✨This✨
Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!
Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.
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Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.
Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.
Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...
... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:
Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."
At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)
Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!
And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).
But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.
Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)
This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.
So, riddle me this:
Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?
To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–
No.
He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.
During one car ride.
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Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!
Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.
Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?
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Talk about over the top ...
Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?
These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.
Oh, right, speaking of books:
Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:
Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...
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... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?
That's right: Giving away his books.
I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.
Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?
Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.
And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.
Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):
Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."
Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!
And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.
You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?
Mhm, that's right.
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This pretty old serpent.
I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:
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You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.
And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.
I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.
As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.
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... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?
"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.
Marvellous!
You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and
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However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:
"Have you thought of just talking to him?"
Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?
'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?
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Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!
Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)
On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.
Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?
Well. Well.
The answer's in the title, babes.
Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!
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Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.
And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?
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Oh, bless it, angel.
He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"
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Ah yes, there he is.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.
Oh, yes, right. The dancing.
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Parallel much?
But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).
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And once again, fhwack:
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... the rosy bubble bursts.
Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:
In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.
During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:
doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed
remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley
and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)
So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”
The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.
And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.
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*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.
***
Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!
Au revoir! 💗
566 notes · View notes
syneilesis · 6 months
Text
[fic] Coffee Break
Coffee Break
Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 1.2k words ao3 link
You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.
A/N: I am so in love with this man. Day 2 of the closed beta test and here I am writing fic lmao. God, I love Shen Xinghui so much. This fic is inspired by his Shimmering Sunlight story. Some spoilers about the main storyline and character-exclusive stories, though nothing too significant. Though I frequently refer to his CN name in my other posts, in this fic I use his EN version -- Xavier.
The box is light in your hands, but the salesperson assured you that weight does not equate to quality. Price, too—because although the Hunters Association is generous with their pay, you don't want to raise flags by taking missions incessantly. Tara's nose for intrigue, of course, is well-known among your circles.
It would be all the worse if Xavier gets in on the gossip too. (You'd have to thank the stars for the man's indifference to workplace drama—and to most in general. Xavier may be airheaded at times but when he's focused on something he is monstrously focused on it. It's impressive, and—well—cute.)
The recommended beans are secured inside your messenger bag. You don't call Xavier this time to give him a heads up. He had, a few days ago, granted you the privilege to enter his home whenever you like, his hand tracing the book spines on the shelf, all the while saying it. He wasn't looking at you, but his tone remained light, playful even, that it prompted you to tease him by pointing out that if he merely wanted an efficient alarm clock, he could just buy one of those state-of-the-art ones sold in major stores. That's when Xavier whirled around to look at you, mirth in his eyes but with a secretive, scheming tilt on his lips.
“I'm coming in,” you announce, regardless, by the door, pushing it in with one hand, and Xavier's voice floats across the hall.
“You're really taking advantage of this, huh.”
“Well, a wise man once said that one must seize every opportunity given their way.”
Xavier emerges from a room in all his cardigan-and-sweatpantsed glory, hair mussed enough to indicate that he's just risen from his bed.
“Good morning!” you chirp.
He glances at the clock—two in the afternoon—and eyes the box in your hands. The caution—and curiosity—is obvious in the lilt of his question. “What's that?”
“For you.”
He takes the proffered item and inspects like it'll explode at any moment. You sigh and retrieve it again, and he follows you when you make your way to the kitchen.
“I already have a coffee machine,” he says, confused, as you begin to clean the gift.
“And it brews bitter coffee.” You spare a glance at him to find that he's watching you. You tap the lid of the machine. “This is a more recent and an undeniably better model.”
“I don't recall asking you to buy one for me.”
“That's because you didn't.” There's a pause where you deliberate telling him your next sentence and facing him directly as you say it. You go for it, in the end. “It's a gift. This is a gift from me to you.”
It doesn't register to him at first—it's as if he's waiting for an explanation that requires the mention of Captain Jenna's orders. But after a blink and a shuffle, it clicks, his eyes widening and he's fully awake all of a sudden.
And when he responds, it seems urgent: “What's the occasion?”
You shake your head. “Nothing—or rather, it's the occasion for drinking good coffee.” The coffee beans make their appearance. “Go sit on the sofa or something while I work this thing out.”
Xavier chuckles. “What—now you're ordering me in my own home?”
“And making you good coffee!”
“You're a guest—even I know that it's rude to have the guest make food or drinks for the owner of the house.”
“It's fine! And besides, I'd like to test this out as soon as possible. Refund and exchange policy only lasts for seven days from the date of purchase. I'd want to know if this works just fine.”
Xavier attempts to protest a little more, but you hold firm. Once he trudges back to the living room, you concentrate on the coffee. The salesperson seemed trustworthy enough when pitching the product, and you really can't forget the time Xavier served you a cup of bitter coffee. Not even three sugar cubes could salvage that unholy concoction.
When it's done, the heavenly aroma wafting along your nose, you test a sip from your own mug. It's a success. Placing the mugs on a tray, you head to where Xavier is.
He's reading a book. Though 'reading' seems to be a stretch because his head bobs twice, his eyelids drooping, the edge of a nap threatening his posture.
“Xavier,” you call him, and his head snaps back to attention. You bite your lip to stave off a laugh. Sitting next to him on the sofa, you put the tray on the table and hand him his own cup. “Try this one.”
A sniff and a tentative sip. And then he hums in approval, now drinking it normally. You smile around the rim of your mug, your eyes falling on his book.
“This is good,” he comments, wearing a smile of his own when he turns to you. “Did you use another kind of coffee beans?”
“Yep. The salesman recommended me another one, and it was the right decision. By the way, why are you reading an instruction manual on building a claw machine?”
“It's nothing,” he says, swiping the item away. There's another book on the table—a collection of short stories—and he snatches that up instead. You recognize the title.
“Oh! I've read that before.”
“Is it good? I haven't read it yet.”
“Yes. I particularly loved the titular story. The suspense buildup was done skillfully and the payoff was perfect.”
“I see, then I look forward to starting it.”
Surprisingly, Xavier begins reading it then and there, occasionally sipping his coffee and turning the page. You, beside him, are minding your own cup, thoughts drifting here and there. Your next mission. New strategies in battle. Your next appointment with Dr. Zayne.
It's when a weight has plopped down your shoulder that you jolt out of your musings: Xavier falling asleep on your shoulder, mug empty, the coffee residues pooling at the bottom, book opened in the chapter of your favorite story.
“Xavier?” you murmur, careful not to startle him if he's truly asleep.
He doesn't stir—only burrows further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, the puffs of his breath close and warm against your skin.
It would've been cruel to push him away, not when he looks comfortable. And besides, you're afforded an opportunity to study him—so you let him as he is.
From your angle, staring down at his sleeping face, you note of his eyelashes, long and thick and seemingly soft, slightly curved upwards, hovering over his smooth cheeks. They frame the blueness of his eyes very well. They make him even prettier under daylight. You're reminded of the time you and he strolled under the blooming peach blossoms, the pink backdrop highlighting the radiance of his presence, statuesque. He as sublime art itself, rivaling that of Rafayel's paintings—or better yet, surpassing them. And when he smiles—
Unbidden, heat crawls across your cheeks and settles there. Oh no. Oh, no no no.
Oh dear, this won't do.
You swallow, and turn away. Against your neck, Xavier sleeps on, unaware of your unfurling realizations. By the window, a familiar bird perches, twittering under the afternoon sun, a small but melodious background song.
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krisdreaming · 10 months
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Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader (He refers to you with fem terms i.e. girlfriend)
WC: 940
Summary: The different ways, over the course of your relationship, that Kuroo gets to call you his
A/N: Hihi, it's still Kuroo hours <333
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i.
It's becoming something of a tradition, Tetsurou tells you. In spring, at the break of the school year, he meets up with his old teammates in this little hole-in-the-wall bar Yaku had discovered. You have to try the karaage, he insists as the two of you walk down the street hand in hand. It's a surprisingly temperate spring day, and he thinks it's cute how excited you are to meet his friends. He's excited for you to meet them, too.
Finally, you reach the spot, and he pulls open the door for you. Inside, Kai and Yaku are already seated at a table, and they both turn and smile as you approach.
"Hi guys," Tetsurou grins as you shrug out of your jacket and drape it across the back of your chair. They're both looking at you curiously, and he can't help but draw out a smug silence until you you turn to him with a quirk of your eyebrow.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" You prod.
"This is my girlfriend," He finally introduces with a hand barely brushing the small of your back. "Y/N."
Yaku and Kai introduce themselves as you both take your seats, but he's not paying much attention. He's too busy tasting the words my girlfriend on his lips, admiring the way they roll so effortlessly from his tongue. He's still in a little bit of disbelief that it's you. You're sitting beside him, laughing behind your hand at something Yaku just said, and he can't help the smile that quirks at his lips.
He isn't sure how long he spends just watching you, but suddenly you're tipping your head back in more raucous laughter. Judging by the look on Yaku's face, he's undoubtedly said something at Tetsurou's expense. You rest your hand on his arm as your laughter trails off, and he can't even find it in himself to be chagrined at Yaku's smirk.
You're his girlfriend, and he likes the sound of that.
ii.
The Christmas dinner is really fancy. The Volleyball Association certainly knows how to treat its employees well, you'd remarked the moment you walked through the door. Even though he's dressed for the occasion, Tetsurou can't help feeling just a little out of place in this high-end banquet room. You're dressed to the nines, though, and look just like you belong in this sort of high society.
"Stop it," Is all you say when he tells you this, swatting him on the arm. You're looking around trying to disguise your awe, taking in all of the decorations as Tetsurou scouts out each of the tables looking for your names.
Right as he spots your seats, he's met by his boss, who greets him warmly, reaching out to shake his hand.
"Komatsu-san," he says after the initial greetings, hand finding your elbow. "I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée." He still can't quite believe that's a word he gets to use. You smile and shake his boss's hand, making a formal greeting as Tetsurou watches you with pride.
"It's lovely to meet you," His boss finally says before slipping away, off to greet someone else.
"He seems like a nice man," You comment as Tetsurou pulls out your seat before taking his own.
"He is," Tetsurou agrees quickly, distracted by the way the lights in the room reflect off of your ring as you reach for your glass of champagne. "Your ring looks extra sparkly tonight," He adds in a lower voice, for your ears only. You turn your hand gently, admiring the ring, and turn to grin at him. It's still so new that looking at it is a novelty for both of you.
"I think that's the first time I've ever introduced you as my fiancée," He adds softly, feeling the thrill again at the words. Every time he says it, he's reminded that you've actually agreed to be with him forever, and he feels a familiar warmth curling in his middle.
iii.
Tetsurou has been keeping an eye on the moving trucks and commotion next door for the past few days. Finally, it seems like the new neighbors have gotten settled in. The two of you have been meaning to go over and introduce yourselves, but so far you haven't had the chance.
One evening after getting home from work, he walks to the mailbox and finds the new neighbors working in their flower beds.
"Hi!" The man greets with a wave, dusting off his hands and crossing the yard towards Tetsurou, the woman close behind him. "You must be our new neighbors," He greets, extending his hand for Tetsurou to shake. "It's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you, too," Tetsurou grins. "I'm Kuroo Tetsurou. We've been meaning to introduce ourselves, but it's never quite worked out," He admits sheepishly.
The neighbors wave it off and introduce themselves, and they've just begun to chat about the neighborhood when Tetsurou hears footsteps on the walk behind him.
"I thought I heard you get home!" You say as you approach, smiling amiably at the new neighbors. "I was wondering what was taking you so long," You laugh, joined by the neighbor couple.
"This is my wife," Tetsurou introduces you, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. You greet the new neighbors, but he takes a few moments just enjoying the feel of you next to him. Even after all this time, introducing you as his still never fails to make him feel the slightest bit giddy. He doesn't think the sound of the words my wife will ever get old.
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ddejavvu · 5 months
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pairing: han solo x reader
summary: you get a little distracted while giving han a blowjob // based on a message from my friend who i do not wish to expose by name, about "licking Harrison fords space body"
this post is 18+, minors dni.
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Maybe it's that this time you're on your knees recreationally, not driven by a vapid pit of lust below the gut of the man standing before you. When you have the time to be thoughtful about sex, you typically prefer penetration, but today you'd felt like occupying your mouth, and Han had been happy to oblige.
"Well get after it, killer," He drawls, confused by your sudden hesitance. You've never wasted this much time before sucking his cock into your mouth before, and he's not sure why you're doing it now.
Your eyes are trained on his hips, broad, tan stretches of skin and muscle and bone that lead into his thick, sturdy thighs. You've heard a similar build be referred to as a tree trunk thigh, and you cant say you disagree with the description; they're strong and firm, something you'd definitely like to climb.
You've squeezed his thighs before, flung your arms around his waist when he'd tried easing you off of his cock before you were ready to let go to anchor yourself to him. You've touched them, you've sat on them, you've ogled them, but you've never fully appreciated them like you want to do now.
"Come on," He urges, voice taking on an exasperated bite, "What're you doing down there, meditating? Get in there."
He braces a hand at the back of your head and pushes it forwards into his hips, his hard cock running into your face. You scramble to open your mouth and suck it between your lips where it had been smearing sticky precum against your cheek, a stain of it left across your chin, too. He gives you a moment to get settled but you're still distracted, and Han can tell in the way that you're only absentmindedly suckling at the head of his cock.
His mouth ticks down in a disgruntled frown and he reverses his grip on your head, pulling instead of pushing. Your scalp burns where he tugs at your hair but it's only enough force to get you off of his cock, and you lick across your sticky bottom lip while staring up at him, waiting for an explanation.
"What's with you today, crazy?" He asks, eyes narrowed as he thumbs at your chin, "You got somethin' on your mind?"
"Your thighs," You admit, voice already a tad raw from sucking his cock, no matter how casually you'd been doing it, "They look really good."
"My- thighs?" He confirms, brows furrowed, "You had my dick in your mouth, and you were thinking about my legs?"
"They're sexy," You breathe, reaching up to ghost your fingers against one of his thighs, feeling its warmth beneath your touch, "Han, can- can I please...?"
"What?" Now he's thoroughly exasperated, "Spit it out."
You do quite the opposite, and attach your mouth to his thigh.
You're sure that the warm, wet swipe of your tongue over his hip is strange, and you wonder if you'll ever hear his breath catch again so sharply, so weakly. It's a sound he's drawn out of you countless times, but never have you managed to catch him off guard enough for it to come out of him. His muscles tense under your tongue and you turn to teeth, gnawing gently on the firm mass of tanned flesh between your jaw.
"-the fuck do you think you're doing?" He demands to know, even more alarmed when your tongue wets the outermost undercurve of his ass - barely teasing at the skin there but enough to send him into a daze.
"Your hips are so sexy," You breathe, words fanning hot over his side as you bite down on his hipbone once more. There's something deliciously taboo about them, typically covered if only for the modesty of another body part; chaste in design but sinful in association, "Han, please- please just let me stay here for a minute."
He's persuaded by the way that you dip your tongue into the crease between his thigh and his cock, lapping at the sweat-tacky skin there and ignoring the way that his balls nudge against your face. His hand flies to his cock, stroking it before he even realizes he's moved it, words uncharacteristically strained as you press a parting kiss to his balls before snaking your tongue downwards in a slimy trail.
"Fine. Fine, shit," He hisses, feeling the burn of your fingernails into his skin as you wrap your arms around his thigh. You hear obscene squelching sounds as Han strokes himself off, vigorously thanks to your efforts in soaking his thigh with your drool, although he pretends not to enjoy it, "Y'know, something's wrong with you. Gave you my cock and you're over here chewing on my leg instead."
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mingsolo · 7 months
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yeosang x reader (f) / g: crime au, arranged marriage, angst, smut / wc: 6.5k / warnings: guns, blood mentions, descriptions of violence, minor character death, general 'mafia' and crime references, language, sexual content / r: 18+
another fic for another now defunct collab that i decided to write anyways! ps. sorry for the banner, i had a free editor and a dream :')
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It's a beautiful Saturday. 
The bushes and trees glow with that yellowish green shade proper to late summer. The sun is warm and it makes everything shine with a golden hue. You glance quickly towards your mother, she really knows how to choose the right date for the right parties.
As you bring your champagne glass closer to your lips, not sipping on it yet, the sight of the handsome man coming down the patio stairs behind your mom grabs your attention. He’s greeting and smiling warmly to everyone who gets closer to congratulate him. 
Kang Yeosang, son of your father’s biggest and longest associate; soon to be one, if not— the most influential name of crime in South Korea.
And now, your husband.
“You can’t deny he knows how to look happy,” the voice of your younger brother interrupts your thoughts as he slides beside you, taking a champagne glass for himself from the waiter's tray as they pass by. “But you still think he is too...” Chan makes a pause reflecting on his words, “Soft?.” 
You remain silent, your upper lip still slightly pressed into your glass. Your eyes don't leave your husband for a moment. Now he’s talking amusedly with your, barely older than you — stepmother, smiling and petting the two pomeranians she refused to leave at home for the wedding. He carries them like babies, smiles at them as your father’s wife shamelessly strokes his shoulder and smiles widely at the act. He puts the little dogs back in the ground and the furry things sprint around his feet as if he was their owner. He laughs heartily at the cute scene and it can be heard through the whole party. His laugh was low but gentle, warm and contagious. 
“He does seem, maybe too nice...” Chan adds, before getting distracted by the giggles of his new girlfriend coming from a few feet away. “Shit.” He says and sprints away to her. You glance over the scene, the barely overage girl drunk as a skunk hovering over one of your cousins. You chuckle as Chan disappears into the main house draggin the girl away from your cousin. Immediately your eyes go back to Yeosang. 
The more you stare at him the more he seems a stranger to the life you were used to living. He acts and looks softer and purer than every man in the room. You can hardly believe he has seen the surface of what this kind of life has to offer. But again, his father was one of the most ruthless men of the country, it was equally hard to believe he hadn't.
Barely a month ago, when your father gave you the ultimatum to marry someone powerful in the city, you had thought of Jeong Yunho first. Yunho, son of the chief of security of the capital, and an agent of the government himself. Both of them are corrupted and dirty even more than your own family, and half the “criminals” they swore to catch everyday. 
Yunho was also your classmate back at law school, your party sidekick and your tennis partner, one with an incredible hit. You both had a long relationship of business and pleasure. Sadly, he was already engaged to the Governor's god-daughter. Everyone knew your family and he had a long history of running dirty business under the table, but marrying? That would be too much for Yunho’s bosses at the government to turn a blind eye to.
So after a short thought, all cards fall back into the Kang family, the only family beside yours with enough influence and power in Seoul. When you were told the son of Boss Kang was back in Korea after spending most of his twenties overseas, you had no chance but to accept he was the one. 
It was a little troublesome, not knowing what to expect from him. But you would find out soon enough, or so you thought. 
You didn’t meet Yeosang until a week before the wedding, at a rushed dinner arranged by both families. 
The first time you laid eyes on him, all you could see was sincerity. He was polite, bright, witty and surprisingly fun. He had deep brown eyes and fine lips. On the left side of his face, he spotted a rather big beauty mark of peculiar shape. Beauty marks of that kind are usually unwanted and something to keep hidden, worse than scars, but the ones on his face framed it gracefully, like a fine accessory.
On him, there was none of the somber demeanor the people who have seen it all in this lifestyle usually had. At one moment he turned to you and smiled, understanding you might be cautious around him, and that confused you. You weren’t used to having emphatic men around you. 
“Here’s to an union that brings out the best for both our families.” He had said with a toast, and for a moment when he smiled softly at you, it seemed like the life you were about to have by his side was a normal, risk free kind of one. 
That was the first time you saw your now husband. This day, the wedding, was the second. 
“Lovely wedding,” a soft voice came from behind you. You recognized it instantly, looking over your shoulder to see the tall frame of Yunho getting closer. “You look so beautiful as a bride”. He raised his glass and both made a silent toast, still looking ahead to the patio. “I heard you are going to Greece for your honeymoon?.” he pouted slightly. “Very romantic.” 
“Now, who told you that?.” your eyes roll at him. You took the chance to glance at the expensive tuxedo he was wearing and how it looked maybe too good on him. It was really a shame you weren’t marrying Yunho instead, that trip to Greece probably wouldn’t have to go to waste.
“Chan did, but you knew that.” He smiled.
You glanced at your brother, who was now dragging his girlfriend back to the party, saying a few curses to your cousin as they passed by him. “Didn’t see you at the ceremony.” you turned to Yunho, who was shamelessly eyeing your cleavage. 
“Oh I just came to the party,” He licks his bottom lip “I couldn’t bear seeing you swore true love to another man, tears are not a good look on me.” 
You scoffed. “Doubt so.” 
He smiled, biting his bottom lip. “So, have you had time to get to know more about him?.” 
The sudden question made you arch your eyebrows. “Well, he is Kang Yeosang, soon leader of the entire Kang clan, owner of half of the dirty business in South Korea, what am I missing?.” 
“I guess there’s nothing else worth knowing?.”
You look back at your now husband, pursing your lips when you find him staring directly at you. He was a few feet away but you could feel his eyes on yours, it was just a second but it sent shivers down your spine. He then immediately turned his attention to his father beside him. 
“You alright?.” Yunho asks, raising his voice lightly as you zoned out for a moment.
You shook your head, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“When are you coming back from Greece?.” Yunho knows better than to try to push an answer out of you.
“Uh, we both need to get back quickly, so a week or so.”
Yunho hummed. “Will you call me when you get back?.” He said sipping on his drink without taking his eyes from you. You shook the sensation from before and chuckled. Men were really like kids. “Please?.” he added with a pout. 
“You got balls huh? You really don’t care, I'm married to a Kang now?.” 
Yunho turned to see Yeosang, now leaning attentively, as his father spoke to him closely. “Not really, should I?.” 
“No, I don’t think so.” you turned to your husband again, not really believing he was entirely harmless. His kind laugh resonated again. Comforting, contagious, and you smiled.
.
.
.
That same night you and your husband flew to Greece. You got there together, to the mansion owned by Yeosang’s father, a house big enough to fit a couple of families without a chance for them to cross paths for a few days. 
Yeosang gave you a brief tour of the mansion and said that every person there was your disposition for everything you needed. The only rule was not to get out to the city alone. He had business to attend to, of course, so after showing you around he left you and told you he would be back late that night.
He never did. So you spent the night getting familiar with the place, didn’t even bother to unpack except for your bathing suit and some toiletries as you knew you would spend all the time at the pool or sunbathing at the private beach, with your body guards close by all the time.
You got mad at first, as you too had matters to attend back home and decided to put them on pause for the trip. If he had stayed at least you could get to know him better, get an idea of who he was as a person, but he didn't show up for the next two days. 
You planned to return back to Seoul alone on a tantrum, but decided to just stay and enjoy the comfort of the mansion and the sea. Whatever the case, you needed a week of relaxation before going back to normal business. Yeosang or not, you knew people in the city and you could go out to the club or something. You had an arsenal of armed bodyguards to feel safe despite what Yeosang had warned you about.
On top of that, the thought of calling Yunho once you were back home ringed in the back of your head, so the wait was worth enduring. 
By the end of the week, after daily sunbathing and catching up with a few books, you decided it was time to have at least a night of real fun. You called a couple of friends, letting them know you were in the city and were in need for a night out. 
The night finally came, only a few minutes past nine.  Your shiniest and shortest dress is waiting for you lying on the bed. Right now in just your silk nightgown you were finishing with your makeup, when a sudden loud blast made you roll the tip of the lip gloss applicator over your cheek. Reflexes abruptly make you take out your revolver from the nightstand, walking slowly to the door paying attention to any noise. 
You glance outside through the glass windows, the garden lights illuminating the roundabout at the entrance of the mansion. There you spot the men guarding the entrance getting in an alert position, running towards the door. 
A couple of loud blasts more and you see two of them dropping on the ground. Quickly you turn the lights off and hide in the back of the room, the moonlight giving you enough vision to see if someone gets inside, your gun closer to your face pointing ahead.
Alerted, you hear steps getting closer. “Mrs. Kang, are you hurt?!”. A voice you couldn’t recognize shouted. Yeosang’s men were still pretty unfamiliar to you and this was definitely not one of your guards. 
You cautiously got closer to the door, gun still ready to shoot. “I’m fine.” you said. The handle of the door twisted as the man outside tried to get it open. “Tell me what is happening.” 
“Someone tried to get into the house, they are probably looking for you or the boss, they got the ones at the entrance.” 
You recalled one of your guards dropping on the ground a few moments back at the roundabout, and you sighed. “How many inside?.”
“A lot ma'am, we need to move quickly, please come out.” you could sense the man’s hurried tone on his voice.
“Where is my husband?.” 
The man got silent for a moment before shouting. “He’s on his way, but right now we need to take you to a safer place, they are probably after you as well.” 
Suddenly your cell phone began vibrating, it was over your bed, so you went to pick it up quickly. It was Yeosang calling. 
“Mrs. Kang?!” the man shouted.
You tapped to answer the call. “Don’t open the door. I’m close.” your husband's voice was calm and clear, you didn’t respond and he hung up.
The man kept calling you as he knocked on the door. Desperation showing with the force and pacing with each knock. You hid inside the back of the room pointing out again. After a few seconds of silence you got startled by the man kicking the door, opening it widely. You pointed at him silently, thinking the dim lights were hiding you and giving you time to have the upper hand.
“Gotcha.”
The man jumped at you, having seen your reflection by the wall mirror against where you were hiding. You shooted and missed, he took the chance to tackle you down. He roughly rolls your body facing the ground, hands at your back, gun point to your head. 
“You should have just opened.” he whispered to your ear, making you grin in disgust. 
“You better let go of me.” you glared at him, as he made you stand up and guided you to the door with so much force your arm was getting numb. 
“Or what?,” he chuckled, pressing the gun to your temple, hurting you. 
“Or I will blow your brains out”. 
Both the man and you looked up, the shape of Yeosang entering the room from the door frame, gun pointed at the latter. Two of his men behind him.
In the background, the shooting had ceased, apparently this man holding you was the last of the ones that had entered the house. 
“There’s none of your friends left here,” Yeosang said, confirming your suspicions. The man tensed against you, now practically choking you by having his arm on your neck. “Let her go. I won’t repeat myself.”
“Fuck you Kang, here’s a little message from-” 
The man’s last words were interrupted by Yeosang shooting his gun to his head, just a couple inches from your own. The loud noise made your ears ring, as the sudden force the man was applying to your neck vanished completely as he dropped dead. Blood and brain matter covered the top of your head. The cheek you had ruined with your lip gloss now covered in red. 
For a moment you groaned in disgust, falling on your knees trying to breathe normally again, soothing your neck from where the dead man was choking you.
“Get up. We need to go.” Yeosang gave you his hand and helped you up. The blood dripping down your neck made you nauseous and you couldn’t hold it any more. The last thing you saw before fainting was Yeosang’s eyes on yours, your name sounding muffled as you closed your eyes on him. 
.
.
.
When you woke up, you couldn’t recognize the room you were in. It was almost the same as the room you were in before. Big glass windows that reached the ceiling, greek decor and furniture. The light coming through the white curtains blinded you for a moment. When your eyes adjust to the sunlight, you look out, the Greece sea reflecting the sun rays back at it. 
Your head was spinning. Instinctively you caressed your neck. Carefully you got up towards the big vanity mirror placed in front of the bed you were laying on. No trace of blood or the rest of that ashole’s brain over you, yet remembering how it felt made you nauseous again. A few faded yellow and purple bruises painted on your neck. 
“You should go and take a proper shower.” 
Yeosang’s voice came from the door frame, where he was leaning on. He walked slowly inside the room, passing you by and looking outside through the window glass.
“Who cleaned me?.” was the first thing you asked.
“The maids.” He said calmly. “How are you feeling?.”
“My head is killing me. And now I have these ugly bruises all over my neck, definitely not the good kind.” 
Yeosang hummed, arching his eyebrows slightly. “How many times have you been in that kind of situation?.”
“A few.”
He remained silent, looking at you as you poured water into a tall glass. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, getting closer. “One of your guys from Korea told them where we were, I should have been there.” 
“What?.” 
“Jung Taein?.”
“Jung? No fucking way.” you chuckled bitterly.
“It’s my fault. You alone at the house made you an easy target.” He said ashamed, looking away. “It won’t happen again.” 
“Do you know who sent them?.” 
“Yes.”
“Would you take care of that?.”
“It’s done.” 
“Alright.” you added, finishing the water. 
“Let me know when you are ready. We are flying back to Seoul as soon as you are.” 
With that, Yeosang left the room, leaving you for the time being. 
The flight back was a silent one. Yeosang spent the whole time on the phone -yours was turned off. That was for the better. Your parents must be calling you non stop all morning. You took the chance to sleep more, since you were still a little shaken by the attack. 
As soon as you put foot at home, the whole day was turbulent. Both your mother and Chan were already waiting for you in the living room of your new mansion. They asked all kinds of questions again and again, making you dizzy. They both questioned Yeosang as well, making him swear that the guy who had planned the attack was more than dead. 
Your father showed up later that evening, and the whole thing repeated itself. He spent most of the time in Yeosang’s office, briefly asking if you were okay when he arrived. When he was ready to leave he stroked your head saying “The pig is dead, your husband took care of that himself.”
That night, laying alone in your new bed, feeling cold and anxious more than ever, you replayed the scene in your head over and over. 
“These mercenaries and their speeches, always thinking of themselves as movie villains.” Your father had said to you once when you were little. “Once they start talking, you have to shoot them.” 
As you remembered this, you felt like smiling. 
The next morning you got downstairs to have breakfast, surprisingly finding Yeosang at the table.
“Good morning.” He greets.
“Morning, oh what do we have here?.” you yawn, siting and finding a plate of pancakes and fresh fruit already served.
“You need energy.” 
“Mmh,” you giggle cutely, catching a glimpse of Yeosang's smile. He notices you noticed the gesture and he quickly goes back to his breakfast. “How are you feeling?. ' he adds, eyeing his plate.
“Way better.” you said, shoving a big piece of pancake on your mouth, “I need to get ready to go to my office.” 
Yoesang clears his throat, pensive. “I think you should lay low for a while.” 
“Isn’t the guy that attacked me dead now?.” you asked, stuffing a strawberry on your mouth as one of the maids poured orange juice on a tall glass for you.
“Yes.” Yeosang pressed his back against his chair. “But there’s other guys.” 
“What about you? Are you going to stay home as well?” your voice sounds annoyed but you don’t care. Yeosang looks briefly at you and then away. “So what should I do then? Stay hidden for the rest of the year here?.” 
“Just a few weeks, until we are sure no one else is onto us anymore.” He said standing up.
“You know, there will always be someone “onto us”.” you huff, rolling your eyes at him. 
“Let me know if you need something.” he said, giving you a nod and walking away.
“Seems like it's going to be you and me, girls.” you said to the two maids when he disappeared from the room. The women gave you a polite smile and you sigh.
That morning was the last time you saw him in almost four weeks.
Handling work stuff from the house was mad boring, and you started to feel claustrophobic. Rounded by security, you only had visits from your mom and Chan, sometimes your father or your new in-laws. The house was full of people all the time yet you felt completely alone in it. Suddenly you missed your office, your old apartment, your friends, anything but that strange house who you could barely call yours. 
But oddly and mostly, you were desperate to get laid. It was a bothersome sensation inside you, not being able to release the stress from everything that had happened within the last month from being recently married to a stranger to almost being killed on your supposed honeymoon.
So you did what you planned to do in the first place as soon as you were back, the only thing that would make you release the stress and clear your mind. 
Yunho called first, a few days after you arrived back at Seoul. The conversation was brief but he let you know he was available for whenever you wanted to see him. A month ago it seemed too recent to meet with him, but now it felt just about right. 
Finally tonight, after having spent a full month trapped inside your house, you and your friend decide to meet up.
Both knew you needed to be cautious; you are a recently married woman —and he, an engaged man. 
You decided to meet up downtown. You had an apartment there in one of the biggest hotels at the center of a prestigious but quiet district. You used it mostly to crash on when you partied regularly, so it was a familiar place to your guards. Yunho let you know he already booked one of the suits for the night, so he could just knock on your door without any trouble. 
Yeosang hadn’t called for a few nights, apparently he was attending some business in Tokyo with both your father and his. It was the perfect timing.
The night arrived and you finally went out. As you got ready in front of the mirror in the bedroom, anticipation started to build as you waited for Yunho.
You changed into a casual dress, and your favorite jewelry; a long pearl necklace that ended up in the right place at your cleavage. Hair styled in a messy bun, the best hairstyle to try when you knew it was going to end up disheveled — a trick you learned from your mother’s long sessions in front of the mirror when you were maybe too young to even understand the tip. 
You sprayed your favorite perfume on the right spots and poured a few drinks, preparing yourself to loosen up to finally enjoy a good night since you married, even if it wasn’t with your own husband. 
Midnight, and Yunho hadn’t shown up. You started to get annoyed. Sending him a couple of texts like; ‘Where the fuck are you?.’ and ‘Are you serious right now?.’ 
You were growing impatient, desperate. He had said late night but this was just too much. And why wasn’t he answering your texts?. 
You blew raspberries, lying back on the bed. Incorporating a little, you saw yourself in the tall mirror at the corner of the room. Your backless dress, makeup… you looked so good and now it was going to get to waste.
It was ridiculous that with all the power, money, a damn husband and a friend like Yunho, you were really struggling this much to get laid. 
Being almost killed —again, having your family on your neck all the time, the pressure of the business and people — had to deal with, and an absent husband you barely knew on top of that was starting to get to you for good.
Grabbing your phone ready to call Yunho, something you would never do being in your right senses, you hear a knock on your door. 
You sit on the bed automatically, fixing the wrinkles of your dress. “Fucking finally.” 
Walking towards the door, you looked through the peephole, immediately taking a few steps back. The man at the door wasn’t Yunho.
“What is he doing here?,” you muttered to yourself. 
“Are you going to open?.” Yeosang’s voice coming from outside made you come to your senses, he sounded different from the other times you two had spoken. Hesitating, you opened the door. His hair was down and parted in the middle, wavy strands falling at the sides of his ears. He was dressed casually, not in the usual business attire you have seen him in so far. 
Yeosang walked in, closing the door behind him. You looked nervously around, feeling suddenly exposed by your little outfit, and he seemingly read your mind, as he took his sweet time looking at your clothes, or the lack of them.
“What are you doing here?.” you ask, trying to sound casual. Suddenly the thought of Yunho knocking on the door any moment made your stomach turn upside down. “Weren’t you in Tokyo?.”
“I remember telling you no to go out yet, so the question is what are you doing here?.” 
You shrugged, feeling his gaze all over you. “I- was, going out…”
“If you wanted to fuck, you just had to ask,” he looked at you with a dark shine on his eyes. “I never told you you were allowed to be playing whore with other men, did I?”.
Your chest started to thump. This wasn’t the Yeosang you have known so far. He spoke harshly, but with a slight hurt pride that confused you.
“The fuck that’s supposed to mean?.” you glared back at him. “You haven’t talked to me properly since we married, you don’t even sleep at home.” you said, mimicking quoting the last word with your fingers. He glared at you too, walking towards you and hovering you against the wall. “Seriously, you won't even allow me one normal dinner and you think you have the right to tell me what to do?.” 
“I'm your husband.” he said dryly, “That should be enough.”
“A husband who hasn’t even fucked his wife once.” 
Yeosang scoffed. He looked at you with big eyes, deep brown eyes that shone differently from back when you saw them at the wedding. You were tense, that wasn’t what you wanted to reproach him for, but your brain was letting the words come out from your mouth without a second thought. “Were you waiting for that Jeong bastard to come here and fuck you? Are you that desperate?.” 
“Yes. Maybe I fucking am.” 
Just then, Yeosang tugged your chin with his hand, brushing the hem of your skirt with his fingers, slowly getting them underneath. His breath was hot and it burned against your neck. He leaned forward, brushing your throat with his lips, and then the tip of his tongue. 
“Well look at you, being all eager.” He whispered with a voice so dark you couldn’t recognize it belonged to him. 
His hand was now fully under your skirt, and his thumb brushed softly where you needed him the most. Your hips start rolling towards the contact, desperate for more friction. You pressed your lips together, restraining yourself from giving in so easily, but the truth was that you needed to be touched. Yeosang rolled his thumb over your damped spot, his gaze got cloudy, tongue resting on his bottom lip as he rubbed in circles on your clothed clit. He slides the lacy fabric to the side, gently pressing two fingers inside you. 
You let out a whimper, biting your bottom lip. Surprised at how he knows exactly how to curl his fingers upward, his fingers caress your center so sweetly, feeling as familiar as your own.
“You feel just like I imagined.” He brushes his words over your lips, kissing you softly. His tongue finally lands against yours, sending tingles all the way to your lower stomach. 
“You imagined?.” you moan against his mouth, and he slowly wraps his hand on your neck, making just the right pressure to make your closed eyes roll to the back of your head. 
“Mmhh.” his voice vibrates over your lips, while he kisses you roughly and sloppily. He’s now adding a third finger deep inside you. You throw your arms at his neck and lift your leg onto his hip to give him more access. He grabs your leg with the hand that isn’t inside you, and continues fingering you with faster pace without stopping kissing you.
“Oh my god…” you cry when he begins scissoring and curling his fingers inside you. You let out a loud moan knowing you are done for and he stops kissing to see you as you come. His fingers keep going, gaze fixated on you as you shut your eyes and roll your hips making his fingers touch you even deeper. “Fuck, oh fuck!.” you whimper when he doesn’t stop and you start squirting all over his fingers. He looks down cheekily, seeing how you coat his fingers with your arousal.
Yeosang smiles, removing his fingers from inside you and making you open your mouth so you can taste yourself on them, when you finish he goes back to your lips, kissing you again. “So sweet.” he whispers, lowering your leg and helping you walk to the bed. 
He makes you lay on your back, taking your panties off and throwing them aside. He lifts the skirt of your dress and places himself between your legs. “Let me taste more of that.” He says, licking your entrance with one strip, as he starts devouring you entirely until there’s no trace of your release but the sweet sensation inside you.
“Fuck, Yeosang.” you moan, feeling the familiar knot yet again. He keeps sucking on you, your hand tugging his hair from the overstimulation. 
“Are you going to come again?.” 
“Yes!.” you cry, but whine immediately after when he stops eating you up. 
“Not like that.” He helps you get up, walking backwards as he sits on the armless chair next to your vanity, taking his belt off and opening the zipper on his jeans. He helps you sit on his lap, always looking at you as he does. Your heavy lids fall on him, admiring just how beautiful he is, and you wonder for a second if you have had a man like that before him. 
Your mind is still foggy, you feel breathless but you indulge in his instructions, glad he’s telling you what to do next. 
Yeosang guides you on top of him, and you observe patiently how he takes out his length and strokes himself a few times, making sure you look. He then tugs your dress down to expose your tits. He licks his bottom lip and goes to kiss one of them sweetly, one hand stroking himself and the other squeezing and licking your nips. You hear his quiet moans and whimpers, giving each of your breasts delicate attention. When he’s had enough, he aligns you on him and slowly pushes you until he has bottomed inside you.
“You really needed this huh?,” He chuckles darkly. “Such a tiny cunt.”
You whine at first, feeling stretched so deliciously for the first time in so long. You lean and kiss him, both your tongues tasting and savoring each other. The pearls of your necklace hang over his chest, the silver of your rings shine between his hair as you dishevel it. Yeosang squeeze and massage your nips with his palm as you take the time adjusting to his length inside you.
He stops kissing your nipple and signals you to look to the side, where you find both your reflections in the big mirror of your vanity, seeing your almost naked form sitting on his lap makes the sensation on your lower abdomen intensify. Yeosang slips your dress over your head, and you remove his jacket and unbutton his shirt hastily. 
“Show me,” his tone is low, hoarse. He cups your chin with force, so you are now looking straight at him. You flutter your eyelashes confused. “What were you planning to do with him?.” he asks, heavy lids eying your bottom lip. 
You bit your lip with force, somehow embarrassed that you already forgot you were supposed to be on top of Yunho. Yeosang smirks slightly, and even if the lights in the room are dim you catch that smile and it drives you mad how confident he is, but also makes you eager to show him. 
“Yeosang, please” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him again. A big open kiss on the mouth first, then going down to his neck, his shoulder blades. You were marking every inch of skin your lips could reach in your position. It felt as if he could suddenly evaporate if you didn’t. 
You start rolling your hips back and forth on top of him, moaning everytime the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot. Yeosang had both hands on your waist, keeping you in place as you rocked your hips at a slow but steady pace, not wanting to come too fast and just enjoy the sensation of having him buried deep inside you.
Yeosang’s whimpers quietly, but intensely. He lets a dry chuckle every time you remove yourself almost completely from him only to go down in one motion over and over. Your hands are on his hair, pulling the strands everytime the pleasure was too much.
He grabs your face and kisses you, biting your bottom lip and coating your entire mouth with his tongue, desperate to fill you connected to him in every way. He groans when you bite back, enjoying every little cry and whimper you let out. “All of this for him?,” he tugs your hair making you face him. 
“Right now I’m fucking you and you only.” you tell him, eyes falling down on you unable to keep them open. “You fill me up so well.”
Yeosang smiled cockily, going to your clit and rubbing his thumb in circles again, making you bury your head on his neck. “Like that? Is that what you wanted?.” 
“Yes!” you cried out loud, not caring at all if the guards outside could hear. His thumb and cock both send incredible sensations through your body, your release building up again ready to break out at any second. “Don’t stop please, I’m gonna-” 
You couldn't finish, feeling the knot in your lower abdomen explode inside you. Yeosang was quick to grab your hips so you stayed in place, and he helped you rock them faster, chasing his own. He looked at your reflection in the mirror. Head thrown back, nails digging on his shoulders, eyes closed and mouth full of whimpers and heavy breathing. You came and Yeosang followed right behind you, letting out the loudest moan since you started. His hands were now on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, having come from your high. He bit your shoulder as he painted your walls with his load. Yeosang cursed under his breath, finally stopping until he finished inside you. 
“Yeosang,” you phanted, caressing his face and making him look at you. His eyelids were heavy, long strands of wavy black hair falling on his face, lips half open trying to catch his breath. “I needed that, fuck.” You waited until he was breathing regularly and kissed him roughly again, taking his breath away once more. 
Yeosang smiled widely and you recognized the sweet man that you married a month ago. The same soft and cute eye smile and seemingly innocent aura came back, transforming from the one that was guiding your hips as you rode him to oblivion mere seconds before.
“I've wanted to have you on top of me since I saw you at the dinner,” He said sweetly, brushing his nose against yours. “Wanted to have you cry my name and brush away that condescending look you gave me at the wedding.” 
You chuckled. “I didn’t know what to expect from you,” you paused, choosing your words carefully. “You seemed too nice for this kind of life, too pure.” 
Yeosang chuckled lightly, helping you stand up, finally removing himself from you. “Seemed?” He kissed your chin gently. “Not anymore?.” 
“Someone who fucks like this?, no way.” 
He lets out a loud laugh, hand covering his mouth. “Y/n, you should know no man is pure. Crime life or not.” 
“Yeah, I guess so.” 
You stood up from his lap, looking around for your panties on the floor, but Yeosang pulled you against him, wrapping his hands on your waist, hiding his face in the space between your shoulders and neck. He kissed the skin there and you hummed, content and relaxed feeling the warmth of his lips. 
He guided you to the bed, laying beside you and leaning over you. 
“Why didn't you want to spend time with me until now?.” you asked, his big eyes shone brightly. “I thought you were avoiding me on purpose, no one is that busy.” 
Yeosang laughed. “Oh but I am. And soon you will be too, as my wife and associate, you will have to deal with a lot.” He lowered his eyes for a second. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to you, I wanted to, but after what happened in Greece I needed to make sure you were always protected.” 
“Did my father intervene?”
“I almost let his only daughter get killed mere days after our wedding, how does that make me look in front of him, of everyone?.”
You hummed but remained silent. You knew your father had already told him everything he needed to hear. “So I’ve been under surveillance all this time?.” You arch your brows, realizing that’s how he knew about your meeting with Yunho tonight. “Shit! Yunho… is he…?.” 
Yeosang chuckled again and this time it was an amused one. “He’s not dead, I still need eyes and ears close to the police,” His lips turned upwards into a mischievous smile. “But he won’t dare to come close to you with certain intentions, ever again.”
“Oh.” you said, pouting. “But he’s an excellent tennis partner though.” 
“I can be your new tennis partner, I can be everything you need me to be.” 
Yeosang kissed you softly, thumb caressing your ear. Your hands traveled over his chest, throwing a leg over his waist and you smiled on the kiss. He let out a soft “Oh” like a shy boy getting his first kiss and it made your heart incredibly warm.
“Who would thought we only needed to fuck each other dumb to break the ice huh?”. You joked, letting him keep kissing your neck and start all over again.
.
.
.
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©mingsolo / please do not edit, repost, translate
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mintsuwu · 3 months
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please how did you come up with her design I've been trying to make a design for my poppy playtime oc but it always ends up looking like rubbish please give tips😭😭
Hello, thank you for asking! Truth be told is that it took me a bit to figure out how to do LoolaLamb in general, she didn't come out too well on the first try xD I had to tweak a couple of things in her like the hair, colors or snout.
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Initially, I wasn't quite sure of what animal picking for her, but then I went with the lamb idea for a few reasons:
- When I was little, I used to have a lamb plush I used to love dearly. Sadly I don't have any pictures to show since I no longer have it with me so I tried to look for one that looked similar on the Internet- But that was the main inspiration for her character. And since the Smiling Critters have their own plushies as well, I thought it would be interesting to make one of them after a real toy. I also took reference from other characters in media that were based on sheeps, like in Pokémon (Flaaffy & Whimsicott).
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I would always recommend using references if you ever don't know where to start with a design. And in the case of a Poppy Playtime OC, you can look for references if you desire as well, or even turn a beloved toy of yours into a character, anything works!
In many cultures, the lamb is a revered symbol of innocence, purity, and sacrifice. It is often associated with religious connotations, particularly in Christianity, where it symbolizes the embodiment of Christ's innocence and the sacrificial lamb offering redemption and atonement for humanity's sins. I simply liked the symbology of this because I'm always a sucker for that when it comes to creating characters;;
This was mainly due to lore reasons, her association with Catnap, a follower of an entity, the Prototype, whom he workships and would do anything to get its blessing. LoolaLamb "sacrified" her voice for the Prototype (well, it actually was that Catnap took away her voicebox with that excuse).
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Her name "LoolaLamb" is a word play for "lullaby", given the role she was going to have in the Smiling Critters line, a replacement for Catnap who would have a similar role as his, except that instead of using a gas to make people fall asleep, she would use her voice. Sheeps and lambs are also heavily associated with sleep and dreams, given the advice: if you can't get to sleep, just “count sheep” until you drift off into a peaceful slumber.
Sheep are wanderers. It's their nature. Even in the best and safest of places, places that provide protection, water, and food, sheep are known to wander off, get lost, and sometimes eaten by predators.
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Her color pick was mainly because even if the smiling critters have more or less the colors of the rainbow and there are already two blue colored critters (Bubba Bubbaphant being more of a neutral blue or azure and Craftycorn cyan or aquamarine), I noticed that there were no dark blue or indigo colored ones. My first idea for LoolaLamb was to give her more violet colors, given her correlation to Catnap, but at the same time I wanted her to stand out amongst the others, being a little more of her own character, so that´s why I ended up picking a different color pallete for her.
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And those are pretty much the basic things I had in mind when creating LoolaLamb! Of course it doesn't always have to be so elaborated with all characters, but I'd always recommend to find references, information, symbolism, anything that might help you with the creation of your character in case you don't know where to start or are simply stuck!
I might not be the best when it comes to explaining things but I hope this has helped you and I wish you the best in your creative process, anon! 🙏🏻💖
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sashaisready · 1 month
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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 3 - Head in the clouds
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
Warnings for: drunk minor character, violence by a minor character to reader (she's okay!)
Thanks so much for the response to this story so far, so glad people are enjoying it. As always I appreciate reblogs and comments. Thanks! Also sorry for anything I get wrong about biker clubs/rules/rituals etc - just pretend that's how it works in this specific AU!
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You’d been working at the bar for a few weeks and had just started to find your stride. You’d already whipped Tom, the blundering bartender from that first night, into shape by teaching him a few tricks of the trade. You’d even showed him how to make a couple of simple cocktails. Not that they were ordered much in a biker bar, but always good to have them in your back pocket. Sure, Tom would spill the syrup all over the bar and break at least one glass every shift…but he was trying. He was the brother of one of Bucky’s buddies and it was almost sweet the way Bucky wanted to help him out – even if it meant turning a blind eye to his often less-than-competent performance.
You’d also gotten to know more of the club and had learned about some aspects of the motorcycle club (or MC as they referred to it) and how it worked.
There was Steve of course, the no-nonsense blonde from that first night, Bucky’s righthand man. He was Vice President. Steve had been a little frosty with you initially but had warmed up and the two of you were becoming friends. You understood he was just a little protective, and that meant he was careful with outsiders and like to vet them first. He was strategic and careful, always one step ahead to ensure that the club were safe from potential threats. He didn’t always say much, but it was clear you’d know if he had a problem with you – so you settled into a quiet understanding with each other.
Bruce was the Treasurer, he was sweet and smart and easy to talk to. Sam was the Road Captain, he was amiable and easy-going, he teased you a little, but it wasn’t with any malice. You gave it right back to him, of course.
Nat, the beautiful redhead you’d seen playing darts, was the Sergeant-At-Arms, which apparently meant being the enforcer and keeping things in order. This had initially surprised you until you saw Nat in action whipping them into shape after some of them had a bit too much to drink one poker night at the bar – she was slightly terrifying, taking no shit from anyone. The whole MC respected (and were slightly terrified of) her… (maybe even Bucky). But the two of you got on well and she was sweet as pie to you, and you were always happy to have another friend.
Thor was the club Secretary, possibly the largest man you’d ever seen – well named. Until now you’d always associated secretaries with typing and pencil skirts – no more. Although seeing Thor in a pencil skirt would certainly be something.
Parker…or Peter, as you found out was his first name, was a recent prospect who had become a full member. He was still finding his way a little, and the others were still ribbing him, but he was sweet and enthusiastic, and you liked him a lot. The dart incident was all forgiven, although he still tiptoed around you a little despite your insistence everything was fine between the two of you.
You were still getting to know the other members – Scott, Clint, Loki, Drax to name a few…Then there were the hang-arounds – not members. Some were prospects but some were just buddies of the club. But Steve was very discerning about who they associated with, he would weed out any sycophants or creeps who just wanted the glory of an MC on their side. It was a whole new world, and you were still learning.
There were also a gaggle of girls who hung out at the bar most nights. They were sweet, some of them were involved with various members, some just wanted to be. All very pretty, very fun. They would drink and play bar games and keep the mood light. Perfectly nice to you, decent tippers.
It hadn’t bypassed your notice that Bucky, as President, was their ultimate target. They’d follow him around, laugh uproariously at his jokes and hang off his every word. Amber, who you’d sussed was their de facto leader of sorts, seemed to have staked some sort of claim. All blonde hair and long legs, skin that looked like an Instagram filter and tonight wearing a, frankly, gravity defying halter top. She’d give the other girls a certain look if they got too close to him and they’d dutifully scatter. Your instincts told you she was not someone you wanted on your bad side.
Bucky didn’t exactly deflect her advances. He’d grin at her with amusement when she would drape her long-manicured nails across his arm, whisper something in her ear that would make her giggle and playfully bat him away.
Which you were fine with.
Obviously.
It wasn’t like you had developed a huge crush on Bucky since you’d been working here, or anything like that.
You didn’t steal glances at him when he moved across the bar, his large, toned arms always bare under his kutte – one flesh, one metal. Some threadbare tee worn underneath, straining against his chest and impossibly flat stomach. Didn’t notice the way he’d absentmindedly brush his hair back out of his eyes, scoop it into a loose bun or small ponytail as he chatted. Definitely didn’t feel a little rush of giddiness when he’d lean over you to get to the cash register and you’d get a whiff of his cologne…
“Sugar? You still with us…?”
Your head snapped towards the intrusion, Bucky’s smile tearing you away from your little daydream as he leaned over the bar. Sometimes it seemed like he could read your thoughts.
“Uh, sorry,” you recovered, wiping down the bar with a washcloth. “Was just thinking I need to do inventory”.
He chuckled, “you work too hard, Sug”.
You smiled at one another for a moment before you saw Amber snake her hand around Bucky’s arm. “Buuucky”, she whined. “Come play pool with us,” she said pleadingly.
He looked at her then back at you, opening his mouth to say something before-
“Can I get a beer here or what??”
The three of you glanced down the bar towards the voice. A broad man in a trucker hat stood sullenly at the other end of the bar, gesturing dramatically at his empty bottle.
“Of course, sir, coming right up”, you chirped a little more cheerily than he deserved.
Bucky frowned. You knew that frown well already. He didn’t like the demanding customers who liked to bark their orders.
“It’s fine,” you told him softly as you pulled another bottle from the fridges. “I got this, you go play pool”.
He continued to frown but seemed to relax slightly at your words, looking over at the man sternly as he got up and Amber squealed excitedly at her victory.
Ugh.
“Just come get me if he gives you any shit” he said harshly as Amber tugged on him.
“You know I’ll give him shit right back if he does,” you winked.
“See? She’s a pro. Let’s GO” moaned Amber as she smiled sweetly at you before shoving him towards the pool table.
Bucky looked back at you for a second before the others cheered at his arrival and Sam handed him a cue. Amber had her hand on his back, rubbing it up and down.
You sighed and moved to hand the new beer over to the customer. You smiled and placed it down in front of him and in response he wordlessly tossed a bill from his wallet onto the bar. Charming. You peeled the money off and gave him his change from the register, then did your best to look busy as you kept an eye on the activity by the pool table.
Honestly, you didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were a grown woman, Bucky was your boss and you’d be out of here in no time anyway. Why were you feeling jealous of another woman about a man like this? You weren’t at school anymore. Grow up. The house was coming along nicely, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. You’d get over your crush and move on. You got the impression Bucky had a whole rotation of women…and that was perfectly fine. None of your business. Everyone knows getting involved with your boss is a terrible idea anyway…especially when that boss heads up a biker gang.
The next few hours passed uneventfully with a solid but not overwhelmingly throng of customers, the occasional whoop and cheer from the pool table as the club played and showed off.  You chatted with Nat for a while as she perched on a bar stool, then Vis and Wanda came by to see you which was sweet of them. Over in the corner, Amber was treating Bucky like a soldier back from battle solely because he’d potted a few balls.
The bar thinned out and only a few customers remained. You were at the bar by yourself just refilling the straw holders when a slurred voice interrupted you.
“Another fuckin’ beer” said the demanding customer from earlier, barely able to keep upright as he slammed his hand onto the bar.
What? No way had you served him that much. He’d had about 4 beers all night…What on earth-
“Sir…” you responded as he swayed and wobbled.
Just then, a small glass bottle fell out of his jacket and clunked hard onto the wood below. Ah, yes. That’ll be the culprit.
Your eyes flickered to the gang across the room who hadn’t yet noticed the small disturbance. You were tempted to call them over, but you didn’t want them thinking you couldn’t handle a single drunk guy.
“Sir…you’ve had enough. You need to go home,” you admonished. “You’ve brought outside liquor in here too and I’m not serving you anymore. You need me to leave, alright? I can call you a cab if you need-”
“Another beer…” he repeated, as if you hadn’t said anything.
“Sir, I told you – no. Now please leave,” you folded your arms, the annoyance of dealing with him all evening boiling over into anger. Maybe a little Amber frustration was there too.
“Ano-”
“No,” you cut him off. “Enough. Please go…”
“Listen here, bitch…” he pointed a dirty fingernailed hand at you. “If you don’t get me another beer-”
“You’re not getting shit, so save us both the trouble and get the fuck out before I get Security to throw you out. Hell, I’ll do it myself if I must” you spat back.
He stared back at you agog, seemingly surprised by your change in attitude. The confusion quickly shifted to rage, and it took a moment for your reflexes to catch up with your brain as he suddenly curled his fingers around the discarded glass bottle and-
You ducked, but unfortunately, a tiny bit too slowly. The bottle bounced off your forehead and hit the bar, shattering and sending little shards of glass into your arm. You stepped backwards in surprise and stumbled, crying out in pain as your lower back hit the bar shelf behind you.
You heard the stampede a second later, a flurry of leather and denim enveloping the bar as the man seemed to levitate – but in actual fact he’d been grabbed by Thor and unceremoniously hauled up by his collar. You briefly heard him stumble apologies, but the sound faded fast as Thor pulled him towards the door, flanked by Sam and Steve.
“Oh babe, I’m sorry we left you” said Nat who was leaning down in front of you and checking out your injuries. “You’re okay. I promise”.
You looked down at them too, your arm was bleeding slightly but didn’t look too rough. You couldn’t see your head but could feel a little lump forming. You didn’t feel pain, not really. The adrenaline of the shock saw to that.
“Why didn’t you call us over?? Jesus Christ, Sugar” Bucky chastised as he jostled past Nat and delicately moved your hair out the way to look at your head. You widened your eyes in surprise as he moved his face to yours, measuring your reflexes with his finger in front of your vision.
“I didn’t realise he’d flip…he was just drunk” you mumbled, slightly dazed for more reason than one. “I just told him to leave. I’m fine…”
“No, you’re not, you’re bleeding,” Bucky scoffed, carefully inspecting the cut on your arm.  “And maybe concussed”.
“Bucky…” you frowned.
“Don’t ‘Bucky’ me. You could’ve got really hurt. Why are you bouncing customers? That’s our job”. His tone was angry, condescending.
“Jeez I misjudged it, okay?” you scowled. “He seemed like a mouthy drunk is all. Don’t talk to me like I’m a baby..”
“I’m not! I just-”
“You were busy! I didn’t wanna interrupt…”
“Just playing fuckin’ pool, Sug! Not too busy to stop you getting brained by a bottle…”
“Alright, break it up you two,” Nat interjected. “We don’t need more trouble tonight”.
Bucky scowled but shut up regardless.
She squeezed your hand. “Let me take you in the back, we’ll get you cleaned up. And then let’s get you home, alright?”
You smiled at her, grateful for her kindness.
“No…I’ll take her” Bucky said. “Get over here…”
“Bucky…” you said with insolence.
But he just ignored you, grabbing your hand from Nat’s and dragging you to the back room.
“Buuuck,” whined Amber from across the room. “We still gotta finish the game”.
“Sam can take my shots” Bucky grumbled, continuing to pull you along without looking up.
“But-”
“Amber, what?! Can’t you see I’m busy here?” he spat, looking daggers over at her. “Ask Sam”.
She went quiet, then pouted and harrumphed. Bucky ignored her and kept going.
“Fuck, Sug,” he muttered. “What are we gonna do with you?”
*
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loriannbowman · 2 months
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Honkai Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader | Part Three
Sunday sits you down in a room that you can only compare to a conference space. You had walked through a long corridors littered with sparkling windows, golden statues. There was a room with a mini city in the centre. You didn't get a chance to look around though, Sunday was insistent that you follow close to him.
The room was round with an evenly round table, place eerily perfect in the center. Tall bookshelves that reach the ceiling cover the walls, some having library ladders next to them.
"Make yourself comfortable," Sunday says casually, running his finger tips across the top of the table as he makes his way to his seat, "We might be here for a while."
You uncomfortably shift within your seat, the cushion beneath you not as comfortable as you'd expect. Your poor ass.
"Now," Sunday interlaces his fingers, "Where should we begin, hmm? We already had polite introductions, what should we do next?"
You can't help but feel a bit uneasy; his casual demeaner is so off putting. You leg begins to bounce rapidly, a nervous tick you picked up.
You attempt to clear your throat.
"Well... let's go over what we already know," you say, trying to regain control over yourself.
You scoot a little in your chair, straightening your back and folding your hands.
"I am (Y/n), codename: Lamplight. I am a combat specialist and medical researcher in Oripathy. Uh... I'm from the region of Laterano, species: Sankta. I currently work under the association 'Rhodes Island' under the direction of Doctor Kal'tsit, Doctor Loriann, and Amiya. Uh... there's nothing really else that comes to mind... Oh! I am also highly dangerous as I am infected with Oripathy."
Sunday sits quietly, his lips lightly pursed, eyes closed as he takes in all this sudden information. All of these things... he's never heard of a single one of them. Sunday takes a deep breath before letting it go through his nose.
"Alright. Thank you for your introduction. Let us first go deeper into these statements. In return, I will explain as much and equally about me and the world around you. Does that seem fair, Lamplight?"
You nod your head, eyes slightly wide at him referring to you by your codename.
"Good. Then let's start with this 'Oripathy' you speak of. You say you're a researcher in this field while also being... infected?"
Your hands fiddle with one another, once again shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You clear your throat again.
"You just had to start there, huh...?" you say with a somber tone, "Alright, I'll tell you everything I know."
You begin to explain your home, how a powerful and dangerous material, 'Originium.' You explain the usages it has... and the horrible, deadly effects it has on the human body. You even roll up the pant sleeve to show a small collection of black crystals forming on the side of your shin. You even told him how you became infected.
"I was on a mission with Doctor Loriann when I got pierced by a Originium lump. Luckily, The Doctor was right there and was able to immediately slow and contain the growth of the Oripathy. I'm glad that I don't use Arts, or the growth would be a lot faster. You don't know just how lucky I am to have my Oripathy growth so slow. Other infected would kill to have theirs infection be so well maintained. I just hope it gives me enough time to live a somewhat fulfilling life."
Sunday's gaze during the whole time never left your form, and once you showed your leg, his eyes never stayed from the crystallin chunks that speckle your skin. He attempted at one point to touch, but you quickly grabbed his hand.
"I wouldn't, not unless you want to be infected too."
It was more of a warning than anything, of course, but you could never be too sure. You would never forgive yourself if you got an innocent person infected.
"I see... Well, let's continue our conversation, shall we?"
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇 • 𝕰. 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗: chapter two
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synopsis: for as long as he could remember, eren jaeger’s only concern and love was his music..despising fame and all that came with it. That was until he was forced into a club appearance by their mutual manager and met (y/n) (l/n), a renowned pole dancer and social media’s newest rising star. After a picture of the pair together begins circulating, they find themselves at the center of a rumor mill. But with the two forming a fast friendship, will they feed into the speculation or will the rapper’s less than welcoming nature push her away?
cw: inappropriate and heavy language, drug use (mainly weed), mentions of sexual content and nudity, FaceTime (implied phone sex and masturbation), eren being a flirt, pole dancing (not stripping though), small mentions of sex toys
wc: 5.8K
📝: y’all, I’ve been enjoying this story so much, obviously. I’m going to try for weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) also, if you’d like to be added to the tag list for future chapters, please comment or reblog to let me know!
“Babygirl, I don’t dabble in what ifs and rumors..little too grown for all that shit. I let people believe what they want because I don’t care. As for as you and I, if you really wanna give ‘em something to talk about and make ‘em mad, then keep fucking with me..I’ll make it fun.”
prev chapter > next chapter
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“Alright, let’s take a break right here and then we’ll run it back one more time. You’re doing great, bro. I’m loving it so far.”
the rapper could be seen nodding behind the plexiglass partition to Eren, who was talking over a microphone as he removed his head seat to pause for an intermission. For some reason or another, the famed producer seemed to be in a much better mood than he was during the previous session.
either way, he’d take this version of him over the temperamental one any day and while he was letting him rest, he’d go grab him some water. just then, the red light and buzzer, signaling that someone else was trying to enter his little lair, sounded off above the ceiling.
he’d flip the switch to unlock the door, because people loved to walk in unannounced and interrupt him so he had to remedy it. He knew it wouldn’t be long before someone came to disturb his peace and progress..
“Mr. Jaeger, Mr. Jaeger…are you in here?”
spinning around in his chair, Eren would be greeted by his wiry, red haired, hard working assistant. Who, as always, was a basket case and didn’t want to disturb his boss while he was busy. But what really annoyed him was the way he greeted him. “Floch, dude. Chill with all that ‘mister’ shit. We’re like a year apart, you can call me Eren. It’s cool, I promise.”
what he didn’t realize was that it just reminded him too much of his asshole doctor of a dad. And being remotely referred to in any capacity the same as that man, made him want to claw his own eyes out..regardless, Floch would apologize and he’d ask him to state his business so he could get back to work.
“Right, sorry sir. Well in any case, I just wanted to bring you this. Came through your email this morning..offers from like six different clubs to do an appearance, GQ and Elle both want to do interviews with you. For Ten Favorite Things and Song Association.” But if he knew anything about his employer, every last one of those were about to be declined with a quickness.
releasing a heavy sigh, the producer reclined in his seat and just shook his head.
“Dude, you already know the answer to this shit. The answer is no. And not just no, hell no.”
“I know and I apologize, but—“
but before that question could he given a proper answer, another voice intervened and interrupted their talk.
“I told him to accept them. Looks like you have a busy week ahead, buddy.”
it was none other than the maverick herself, and she seemed to be all smiles..which frightened both of them! “M-miss Ackerman!How’d you get in here?!” Floch muttered nervously, knowing better than to question her but still curious all the same.
but the musician surely wasn’t afraid to ask.
“Yes, Mikasa. That’s a good question, why the hell are you walking in my studio like you pay bills here? Better yet, why are you volunteering me for more bullshit?”
she was as much of a powerhouse as ever; intimidating and afraid of nothing, including the brown haired brat sitting in that chair. Dressed in a more casual outfit than her normal thousand dollar Givenchy and Giuseppe’s, she’d just smirk and help herself to one of the empty seats.
“Didn’t we just go over this like three days ago or are you just pretending to be stupid?”
one thing about her was that she would always meet him where he was at. If he took it low, she’d go to hell and wouldn’t stop until she won. As with everyone. You’d be a damn fool to ever challenge Mikasa to anything. She was a third generation talent in the music industry and next heiress in line to take over AMG, Ackerman Management Group.
they were the premier record label and talent agency that everyone wanted to work with. They were notorious for getting some of the biggest names their start but working hard all the same.
founded by her great uncle, Kenny, who was a popular rock singer back in the day and taken over by his son and her uncle, Levi. Who was even far more ruthless than she could ever be! he wasn't a fan of the rapper’s lackadaisical attitude in the slightest so he told her to make him get his act together or get his ass out the door. Needless to say, she didn’t want it to result in the latter. Hence why she was here.
“I’ve got a dress fitting at twelve and a meeting with my wedding planner after that so let’s make this quick. And I’d prefer if we could do it privately.” Talking bluntly as she scrolled through her Apple Watch, pecking at the screen. It didn’t take long for Floch to get a clue and kick rocks.
he’d take being on his boss’ shit list over hers any day.
regardless, he could care less and both of them to beat it so he could continue recording..once the two of them were alone, Eren stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket and gave her a deadpan expression.
“I’m just gonna take a wild guess and say you aren’t here for a friendly chat.” “Correct again. There is more than wind between those little ears of yours.”
he really wasn’t in the mood for her nonsense so she better had made this quick! Whatever it was…
“I’m here because one, Ms. Hange asked me to send her personal regards and this…said that her club has been packed full every night since you performed and she’d love to have you back.”
handing him an envelope with a check in the amount of ninety five thousand dollars. When you were a huge name of his caliber, it came with a hefty price tag! She wasn’t mad though, because she made a couple million easily that night..the second thing on the docket though, was a tad bit more personal and something she needed to know.
it had been a week since that show and since he met (y/n), who was all over Twitter and Instagram, going viral for the simple fact she was spotted with him. And Mikasa would be damned if he screwed up this poor girl’s career this early on.
“Speaking of..you mind explaining why you and my new client are playing footsies in VIP for the entire internet to see?”
scratching her forehead as she pulled her phone up to show him the picture that had been circulating social media heavily. Which he probably knew nothing about since he never checked those damn things anyways. Poor (y/n) was probably being bombarded with more questions and threats than she knew what to do with.
“I know that shit was your idea, Eren. You get a rise out of sending people into a panic so you probably told her to kiss you. Am I right or am I right?”
without so much as another word, she just let out a frustrated huff. “So goddamned predictable..”
she was incredibly annoyed and hadn’t even been there for five minutes.
“Please don’t tell me you fu—“
“No!..what type of man do you take me for?”
“A slut, because that’s what’s you are!”
taken aback in complete offense as he playfully grabbed his chest!
she knew him well enough that he wasn’t the type to do a million random hookups but he was also a huge flirt and could charm the pants off of a snake. Which telling by that photo and the videos, it was obvious that he had this girl wrapped around his finger and vice versa so she wouldn’t be surprised if something came of it..
and he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t feeling (y/n)…you were stunning, funny, sweet and had all types of sex appeal. Honestly, had you been the one initiating it, he definitely would’ve hit on the first night.
“Look, I’m not telling you what to do with your life but I am telling you not to get this girl caught up in some weird nonsense. She’s got a bright future ahead of her and the last thing she needs is to be messed up by the industry’s favorite misfit.”
rolling his eyes, Eren leaned back in his chair before grabbing his water bottle.
truth be told, the only thing on his mind was making music and getting this album finished. He didn’t have time to lay up with you or anybody else.
“Mika, if I wanted a lecture, I’d go call my mom and let her bitch at me. Thank you for the check but I promise, you don’t have to worry about anything. I barely know the girl, we did as you asked and that was it. Now if you’d be so kind as to get the hell out so I can finish working, I'd be very grateful.”
at this point, it was the best thing. He was hard headed as hell and knew he’d go against her out of spite. Still, a small part of her was happy to see him smiling for once and if you had managed to bring that side out for just a moment, then she was fine.
“Fine, I’ll leave you and your rat’s nest to it. Just remember what I said.”
demanding as she rose from her seat and began to leave. But of course, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her. They were best friends before they were manager and client.
“Yeah whatever..hey, speaking of rats, where’s your ugly fiancé?”
clicking her tongue into her cheek, Mikasa just rolled her eyes and dismissed the comment. She knew that they didn’t and probably would never get along but she also knew Eren was an asshole.
“You’re such a jackass, I swear.” declaring before turning on her heel and heading towards the door.
“You know he got a face that can’t be seen in the daylight. You’re gonna scare my neighbors.” cracking up as he joked on the rival artist.
all he received in return is a middle finger from his manager! “I love you, Mika!” she was so used to his annoying behavior that she just tuned out half the time. Now that she had left though, it was time to get back to what really mattered and that was working his magic on another project.
just then, his friend and fellow rapper, Connie Springer reentered the studio, ready to finish out the second half of this session.
“Aye bro, you ready?” He’d ask from behind the partition as he placed his headphones back on. However, there was one thing Eren needed to take care of beforehand. Grabbing his phone, he’d scroll and search for a particular contact..one that hadn’t left his head since Saturday.
he couldn’t believe that someone actually had his attention..and he hated it! But still, it’d be nice to hear from you again.
staring at the screen for just a minute, he’d contemplate sending the message he had typed before setting it down and getting back to the grind.
“Yeah, I’m ready, bro. Let’s run that last shit back.”
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meanwhile, somewhere a couple states away, (y/n) was working diligently on your craft as well. Preparing to perform alongside the headliner for a music festival and you had to ensure that not only yourself but the entire collective was on their A-Game.
“Alright, we all go up on three count, heel click at five and come down on eight. Got it?”
a group of five other ladies looked back at you and nodded with reassurance as you stood before them in front of the pole classroom at the Allure Dance Studio. The premier studio where you and your team had practiced for many years now.
The Pole Assassins consisted of yourself, Janae James, Syrai Hughes, Kellie Grant, Niesha Daniels and Brianne Scott. Some of the most talented performers; some of them well versed in a multitude of dance styles and having served as backup for so many artists..ranging from SZA, Megan The Stallion to Rihanna and many other household names.
although there was a huge misconception that all of you were just strippers turned social media stars, that wasn’t the case. Granted, there wasn’t a single thing wrong with that because Syrai and Brianne did happen to get their start at the infamous Blue Flame in Atlanta.
regardless of where all of you came from, you were here now and getting backup performers their much deserved recognition.
in another year’s tops, you wanted to organize your own tour..traveling across the country to show off the illustrious skills and art of pole. Help break the stigma and bias towards the trade..
but at the moment, duty called and there was so much to do before the show in a couple days. At the moment though, what you all could use was a much needed break! “Alright y’all, let’s rest for thirty and then get back to it.”
all the ladies exhaled a sigh of relief and dispersed for the time being. That was all except one..your best and closest friend, Niesha. Everyone on the team had a close bond and considered yourselves sisters but you and Niesha had known each other since childhood.
she lingered around, taking a sip from her water bottle before collapsing near her designated pole.
“Damn bitch, I knew you worked hard but you straight slave driving us today.”
joking as you walked towards her, playfully swinging a towel at her. You couldn’t help but laugh because your reputation as a perfectionist preceded you. Everything you put your name on was done to the precise tee or not at all!
and although the rest of them were gracious for your hard work and leadership, they were no stranger to that obsessive behavior and rigorous training.
“Was I that bad?” muttering and giggling as you took a seat next to her.
“Nah baby, you good..but the last time I saw you go this hard, you were fighting with your ex nigga and your family. What’s on your mind?”
Niesha was the jokester of the troupe but she was also a sweetheart. She never let any of you have a bad day or stay there for long..releasing a sigh, you’d take a swig of the chilled water, positioning yourself on the backs of your seven inch clear Pleasers.
“I’m good, I’m just trying to make sure we do this right, ‘s all. I want us on that next level so I’m pushing hard this year.”
Niesha would nod, seconding the sentiment. She knew you well enough to know that was the case but also, couldn’t help but feel as though something else was at play here..clicking her tongue in her cheek, she’d smirk and glare over at you.
“Yeah..or the fact that you all over the internet right now and you’re trying to forget it.” And there it was. She had called your bluff yet again..as a true best friend would! Doubling over in laughter, she’d watch your expression change and couldn’t help but to cackle about it.
if it’s one thing she knew about you, it was that this fame thing would never quite register. Unlike her and the rest of the girls, you did not attend these industry parties or accept hotel room invitations.
once whatever job you were hired for was finished, you were the first to dip..you didn’t get starstruck or fawn over the million different famous faces. You simply wanted to dance and that was that. But if there was one person that stance was broken for..it was the man who was featured in the circulating photo with you.
but it was bittersweet, considering the fact that every other comment was basically alluding to the fact that y’all were fucking or that you needed his name for some half assed attempt at getting clout. Which was a complete lie because in the entire week you had known him, you only spoke for a little while before your work pulled you both away. There was no agenda or networking..just a nice vibe and you wanted it to stay that way.
“Girl, ion know why you even tripping. That man is so fine, I wouldn’t give a fuck about what these people got to say. Especially the way he was all up on you? Chile, you a better woman than me..I know I would’ve folded.” that’s exactly why you loved her! She was your exact opposite and afraid of nothing. Shame and judgment didn’t exist and she lived everyday to the fullest, doing whatever made Niesha happy.
smacking your lips, you’d dismiss her argument. As right as she was, you couldn’t allow yourself to get carried away.
it wasn’t as if something would come of the little exchange. It was a job and nothing more. By now, you were certain he had forgotten all about you and was on to the next model or singer on his roster. meanwhile, you were being called a ho and clout addict by the illiterate rap pages and bloggers..not to mention his hormonal fangirls who probably had a shrine of him in their bedrooms.
you heard the rumors about how he operated but you couldn’t help but feel that they were just that: rumors.
because he didn’t do a million interviews or put his business on front street, these shady reporters did the next best thing and constructed lies to get their clout and coins up.
“Be for real, Niesha. You know that man probably doesn't even remember me. Besides, he only did that because they were taking pictures and annoying him.”
“Right. And if I was you, I would’ve gave they asses something to snap. You had Eren fucking Jaeger touching all over you in the middle of the club and didn’t give that man no pussy? You crazy. Listen, they would’ve just had to hate me.” all you could do was laugh at this point because she was serious and you had to respect it..at least she was honest!
“Do you hear yourself right now? I don’t care who it is, I’m not fucking on no random man after only three hours of knowing him. He was real sweet, we had a good time…even smoked a lil’ bit after the club but that’s as far as it went and will go. I’m not ‘bout to be on the front page of TheShadeRoom every week, fighting hoes in the comments. Not over him or nobody else.”
she knew there was no changing your mind but she considered the fact that you had been going hard non stop since you all had made it big. No breaks, no relaxations and damn sure no man in your life..tapped into multiple lines of work but never taking time for (y/n).
so what if he did one night you? That the two of you would’ve gone back to your hotel and let him put those lyrics to the test? No one would have cared or blamed you for doing so. You were a young woman, a very beautiful one at that it so made no sense to sit here and let that allude you. Nothing was wrong with dating and
“Girl, I think you just need to stop letting stuff get to you. I know you don’t want to hear this but it comes with the game. These bitches gone’ talk shit regardless and if you wanna be out there and have Pole Assassins all over the world, then I think you need to get a bit of thicker skin and let it roll off your back. They don’t pay your bills so don’t pay they asses no mind. Period.”
she was right! No need in dwelling over something that couldn’t be undone. You two enjoyed yourselves so there was nothing to regret, even if it was short lived. Meeting him was a top five experience in your life and career, even if that was the first and last time…rising from her spot, heels clicking against the previously polished sandalwood floors, marked by your scuffing.
“As for mister EJ, if he does by some miracle remember you, don’t fumble that bag, bitch. It’s time to put (y/n) first and stop worrying about an image. He obviously don’t care so why should you?”
letting out a loud huff, you’d stand up as well and stretch your limbs. It was no point in denying the truth..someone was going to have an opinion, good or bad. Something that Eren had probably learned early on and it was your turn now to do the same. Especially if you wanted to achieve all these wild dreams and see (y/n) (l/n) up in lights…
“Yeah, yeah. Damn I hate that you always right..”
you just hoped that it wouldn’t be for all the wrong reasons..
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later that evening..
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darkness had all but settled over the bustling city of Miami but it was most certainly a place that never slept. Parties, clubs, bars and adult playgrounds alike..you’d definitely find your poison there. Something to suit a vice of every kind. It was also a place, notorious for the amount of celebrities that resided there, including Eren himself. However, he didn’t partake in the late night culture much or being around people at all for that matter. Granted, it was a far cry from his hometown of northern Jersey but at the fresh age of sixteen, he made the move all by his lonesome to South Florida and hadn’t looked back since. It was something that kept his family at odds for years and baffled his friends all the same.
they thought he was insane for choosing to leave a life of comfortability and luxury, just to chase this dream of making music. To voluntarily couch surf and sleep in cars all because they didn’t support him…it seemed crazy but it was a necessary sacrifice. He could’ve easily followed in his father and older brother’s footsteps; dealing with sick people or sitting in a chair with a note pad, listening to people bitch about their problems. But he’d much rather go mop the entire sea floor of Miami Beach before being in their shoes. So he stayed diligent, drowning out any noise that refuted his goals and went hard. He worked at Foot Locker during the day and done a few..illegal things at night to fund his engineering education. Fast forward almost ten years later and it had paid off major. Three Grammys; two for album of the year, one for songwriting, four VMA’s, and even an Emmy for a song he once produced in a movie. His resume was quite stacked and impressive for being so young. And the bank account matched!
with a net worth of over thirty million, it was no wonder that he was the topic of discussion every other week. Wondering how he did it..what his secret was and what he was going to do next. At the moment though..he was enjoying the fruits of his tireless labor.. but without squaring away the remained of his business first!.. “Listen, I heard the song and that shit go crazy…bro, I’m telling you, this the next single!..imma be flying out there next week for a shoot and you already know what I’m on. Let’s link and make this shit happen. I just got my second studio out there and I’m ready to go to work. I’ll send my verse in the morning..”
the rapper spoke into his AirPods as he conversed with excitement on his face. When it came to creating, that’s what truly made him smile. All that other stuff, they could keep. On the other end, was a fellow artist that had been dying to work with the famous producer. Not just to mix and master the music but have him on the song as well and getting an EJ The Don feature was like getting the rarest Pokémon you could find. He was a hot commodity, even after all these years and still hadn’t reached his prime! It was a great feeling because his best work was yet to come. For now though, what he needed was rest! “Aight, man. I’ll talk to you later..bye.”
ending the call shortly after before settling into his massive king bed with the pillow top mattress. Covered in neatly tucked silk sheets and fluffy comforters..all courtesy of his wonderful housekeeping staff. Which consisted of seven people that kept his ten thousand square foot, three story mansion spotless. Six bedrooms and baths, a mini theater, game room, home gym and an infinity pool with a jacuzzi in the spacious backyard. Not to mention, the all black Wraith, cobalt blue Maserati and two muscle cars sitting in the five car garage. To say he lived lavish was an understatement and the best part was..he did it all on his lonesome. Not a red cent of his doctor daddy’s money like everyone loved to claim.
but one thing about him, is that he didn’t give the first, second or third fuck about anyone’s opinions. He had the life that they could only dream of and no amount of comments or commentary videos would stop him. Having freshly showered, the musician ties his shoulder length shag into a bun..completely topless; covered only by his tattoos and donning grey sweats as he climbed into bed. On the nightstand sat his phone and a pre rolled blunt, awaiting his ignition. After the stressful day he’d had, he most certainly needed it.
despite his rampant success and having anything he wanted at his disposal..there was something missing that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Unlike most of his cohorts, he didn’t do well with company. Having a house full of strangers to fill a void or laying up with a bitch he didn’t know the first thing about was not his ministry. He’d rather be alone in the solitude of his fortress before going out sad like that..still, like anyone, he did long to have someone around, at least to talk to.
his two best friends: one, a philandering playboy with more bodies than the morgue and the other, a soon to be married woman with a husband that hated his guts had no time to kick it with him, as their schedules just didn’t permit it. Reluctantly, Eren grabbed the phone from the nightstand and scrolled for a minute. It was very rate that he even picked that thing up because he was just jaded by social media and folks in general. But it was the closest he’d get to human interaction right now.
placing his blunt between his lips, he’d grasp the lighter sitting next to it and spark a flame, allowing the air to permeate his lungs. There wasn’t a better feeling in the world!..but it was about to get that much better when he flicked his thumb across the screen to scroll up his very bare feed, completely ignoring the thousands of notifications and spotted something in the recommended tab..
@(socialmedianame) Worked on a little something today with the girls..can’t wait to be on the stage at Rolling Loud. ♥️”
a video with a familiar song, a very familiar face..and a pretty infamous body too was seen twirling around a pole to one of his tracks, doing a variety of stunts until she went spread leg in the air and then landed on the floor in a split! To say he was impressed would be an understatement. Stretching those big green eyes, the rapper replayed the reel at least a couple times before becoming completely entranced..he couldn’t stop staring at the woman or her movements. Out of complete curiosity, he’d click the user and there she would appear..
(Y/N): the one who had been on his mind constantly. And that much was proven by the fact that he was even lurking on your page because he never even bothered to check in anyone. But after only seeing a couple pictures, that infatuation grew tenfold. From the aesthetically pleasing photos of you in some sexy outfit, to the videos of you twerking to a new song as you sported a string bikini. Now, he had had his fair share of women and seen all types of girls throughout the tenure of his career but not one of them would EVER come close to being as bad as you..that pretty brown skin tone, perfect hair, nails and makeup..an absolute beauty. Of course, he was a man before anything so his attention averted to that ass, which was sitting..
he’d never admit it but he had watched it far more times than he should’ve been proud of. One perk of being alone in this big house was that he was free to do as he pleased..which included cupping a hand around his bulge and release a huff while watching that thickness move like water. “Damn (y/n)…”
it made no sense how fine you were and how mesmerized he was..the fantasies running through his head right now were not thoughts unbecoming of a renowned recording artist. But something would soon snap the singer out of his trance and that was a call from (y/n) yourself! Not was he expecting but he’d quickly pull himself together to accept. “Fuck.” Mumbling underneath his breath, Eren swiped over and in a matter of seconds, your pretty face was on the other end in real time.
“What’s good?”
his deep set voice speaking out and immediately catching you off guard..not because it scared you but that tone done something to you. He played it so cool that you wouldn’t have even known that you had him sweating bullets a few minutes ago!
“I’m just now getting in, sorry about calling you this late..I didn’t see your text until now so I figured I’d say hey.”
now, if anyone else had been hitting his line that late, they would’ve been getting cussed out from A to Z but for you? He was happy as hell to hear your voice and even happier to see that smile. Something he didn’t believe he had ever experienced. Yet here he was imploding with joy..blowing a cloud of smoke, he’d eye you up and down before speaking again.
“Nah, you fine. Glad you did…” from there, the two of you proceeded to talk about your days, exchanging laughs and stealing glances of one another through the camera lenses. You were in your hotel room, just now making it back from a photo shoot and fine wasn’t even the word to describe the look. Face beat to perfection, long thirty inch jet black hair laid and a skimpy two piece on your curvy body. “You look pretty. Like that outfit on you..” the compliment making your stomach flutter in return. For some reason, conversation flowed so casually with him. This was the first time that you had actually seen his face since the club and you didn’t even feel nervous. The fact that you even had his number was still a shock but it was nice.
however, there was a huge elephant in the room that would inevitably take over your chat. “So Miss Ackerman called me today..” the words making him visibly irritated because his mind immediately reverted back to their talk earlier in the day. He despised being told what to do but as he was certain she gave him that advice, he was sure she had given you the same lecture. “Oh yeah? You got a visit from the wicked witch too? What she say?” Playing oblivious as he absentmindedly turned on the TV to distract himself. Meanwhile, you’d giggle and prepare to put your hair up. Unbeknownst, she had already gotten on his ass but you’d be completely honest.
“She said she was really happy with the club performance and that she’d be happy for us to come back and host any time. Which again, I have to say thank you for helping me. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do it without you.” nodding gently as he looked at you. It was his pleasure because your paths probably would’ve never crossed regardless. Which may have been for the best, considering that you were being dogpiled simply for being associated with his namesake. But Eren wasn’t much for small talk and he could tell by the look on your face that something was bothering you..
“And what else did she say?”
the question caught you off guard but there was no use in lying. Might as well be upfront because knowing him, he was completely oblivious to the whole situation. “..I’m assuming you don’t know about the picture then, huh?” letting out a soft cackle, he’d simply shrug his shoulders before pursing his lips together for another hit. “I’ve been made aware..why? What’s up?” It was as if nothing ever got underneath his skin. Which was more than what could be said about you because for the past few days, they had managed to piss you off something serious! As you stood before your bathroom mirror, you’d section off those locks into sections; placing them in rollers for the night.
“Well, they out here saying we fucking. Talking shit and making up stuff..so annoying.”
without so much as the raise of an eyebrow or change in expression, EJ blew his third consecutive puff and dismissed it, which you figured it was because of his long term tenure in the industry and he was accustom to having his name used for clickbait. It was another day for him but you weren’t exactly privy to it so he’d try to ease your mind…at least in the best way he knew how!
“I mean…I’ll prove ‘em right if that’s what they want.” muttering so casually that you’d blurt out a laugh and smack your lips. “You know what?” eventually, he’d start laughing as well and sit up, now staring you straight in the face. “But for real, that don’t bother you? They just making shit up, playing on yo’ name like that?”
the question was all but rhetorical, still her answer truthfully and let you know exactly what the deal was! “Yeah, cause imma be mad that they’re saying I had sex with a beautiful girl. Oh, the horror..” that sarcasm was something you’d hav to get used to quickly if you wanted to be his friend and not many people had the patience to put up with it. You found it refreshing though.
that’s when he’d say something yet again to take all of those thoughts and say to hell with them.
“Babygirl, I don’t dabble in what ifs and rumors..little too grown for all that shit. I let people believe what they want because I don’t care. As for as you and I, if you really wanna give ‘em something to talk about and make ‘em mad, then keep fucking with me..I’ll make it fun.”
the absolute and sure fire conviction in his words was so attractive! That nonchalantness was so sexy and you couldn’t help but wish that they were correct in their statements. Gliding your tongue across your lips, you’d just smirk and try to feint your true feelings. He was problems..that much was certain but were you truly prepared to deal with them? Was Niesha right about what she said?..what should you do?..
“Mmmm, can’t tell if you threatening me with a good time or what?”
“Shit..come find out.”
he really did play too much!
while you were busy contemplating, he’d set the phone down and you’d catch a glimpse of his chiseled physique and you wanted to jump through the screen. You should not have had this much tension and attraction to a man you barely knew but honestly, how many girls would kill to be in your spot? FaceTiming with everyone’s celeb crush. Hell, you wanted to put it in the camera for him!
“..well I gotta go. I’m happy you called me, beautiful. Get you some rest, alright? And don’t let these dumbass people get to you..”
you didn’t even try to attest and would tell him goodnight because you definitely needed to get out of these clothes and into a hot shower. “I’ll try. Goodnight..”
and with that, the line would disconnect, leaving you both to reflect on the conversation and all of the intrusive thoughts that plagued your minds during and had to suppress out of respect for one another but when you hung up, you couldn’t help but to think about what he said:
“If you really wanna make ‘em mad, keep fucking with me..”
it was a dangerous game messing with him but maybe it was time to live a little. You could only imagine what it would actually be like..unfortunately though, that was all you could do. Imagine! Throughout the duration of that call, you were trying to hold it together but that was a problem and a half.
letting out a loud sigh, (y/n) proceeded to continue that nighttime routine and get ready to settle down for the night and you knew just the way to relax..
“I’m so glad I brought that damn rose toy with me..imma need it.”
you doubted that this rumor would come to fruition anytime soon but it didn’t hurt to improvise.
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if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾
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cheeseanonioncrisps · 2 months
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Love how Vox and Velvette seem to alternate between portraying themselves as the ‘head’ of their little trio, with Velvette referring to herself as “the backbone of the Vees” and Vox plastering his logo over everything and vehemently denying Alastor's insinuation that he couldn't go on without the other two.
And meanwhile, like… Hells entire cinematic industry seems to mostly centre around porn.
Like, I'm sure there are other films out there (Blitzø has apparently seen Shrek) but the “cinephiles” are all off watching “award winning demon bukkake shows”. And I'd be very surprised if the internet porn industry wasn't also pretty big.
Outside the main three Vees, Angel Dust appears to be the figure most associated with their brand. Not any of Velvette's models or Vox's stars. And posters of Angel appear in the Lust Ring in Ozzies, implying that Val's influence extends outside Pride, something that doesn't seem to be the case for the other Vees.
And the whole reason Vox had to hire Sir Pentious to spy on the hotel is because Val hires so many people that all the randos on the street who might be looking for a quick buck were already working for him. Given how sex-obsessed the culture is generally (and considering that for every pornstar Val hires, he's also going to need several camera people, sound people, set designers, editors, etc.) Val could easily qualify as the biggest employer in Pride.
And if he owns even a fraction of those souls, he'd probably be one of the most powerful Overlords with or without the other two backing him up.
And that's not even getting into the age thing!
All the Media Demons seem to be loosely associated with the era when their chosen form of media got popular.
Vel is the social media demon, and one of the youngest Overlords, seeming to have died in the '10s. Vox is the TV demon and supposedly died in the 1950s. Alastor is the Radio Demon and died in the 1930s.
Photographic porn first became a big thing in the late 1800s. Val's style of dress to me loosely indicates 1910s or 1920s. If we're sticking with the established pattern then Valentino could well be older than Alastor.
What I'm saying is: the reason Valentino seems so much less concerned with the image and branding of the Vees compared to the other two might not just be him being dumb and impulsive.
From his perspective, the whole Vee thing might just be something his boyfriend and best friend are invested in, that he just kinda puts up with (and, heck, probably finances) because it makes them happy and gets him out of Overlord meetings.
Out of the three of them, Val may actually be the one who would be most able to go it alone, and the one who is the main source of their power. Possibly the only reason Vox and Vel even get to argue over who is the top dog in the group is because the actual top dog is too busy with his real business to give much of a shit about their fun side project.
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fancifulplaguerat · 11 months
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Time to put Daniil back on the vivisection table because I am not done with him. I’ve been thinking recently about Daniil’s reaction to Aglaya’s ‘betrayal,’ because honestly I feel like people don’t talk enough about how much it affects him, or how much it influences his decision in the Cathedral. When I finished the Haruspex Route, I was kind of surprised by how central Aglaya’s death was to Daniil’s arguments in favor of the utopian ending—when Daniil tries to convince Artemy to save the Polyhedron, one of his main points is that in doing so, Aglaya will die. I also remember being struck on Day 12 of the Bachelor Route by that lengthy dialogue with Artemy, where he defends Aglaya and Daniil insists upon her betrayal. In the Bachelor Route, this breach of Daniil’s trust is a fundamental aspect of what informs his final decision, and is arguably centred more than the Polyhedron or Kains’ miracles. 
This makes sense to me, because I don’t think Daniil has such a strong reaction to anything else in Patho, not even Simon’s death—even though there’s much customary Dankovsky rage in his reaction, it seems underlined by genuine hurt. For instance, when he asks, “Aglaya, how could you do this? This is an honest to God betrayal. I trusted you...” It even feels a little childish, for want of a better word, how he says “I don’t want to talk to you. I despise you.” It’s also ridiculously hypocritical how he lashes out at Aglaya, telling her that revenge is a poor companion for someone like her, while simultaneously saying shit like “I do not want to take revenge on the Powers That Be anymore. I want to take revenge on you, Aglaya,” or “Watch me sign your death sentence.”
Returning to that dialogue with Artemy, I enjoy how his defense of Aglaya sort of picks apart this reaction: 
Haruspex: You're just holding a grudge, oynon, nothing more. You only feel betrayed because you've entrusted yourself to her—but that was your own choice. It's unwise to brand someone a savior beforehand and then denounce them when they fail to live up to your expectations—even though they didn't know you had them.
> She knew. That's the difference. She knew and exploited my hopes.
[...] 
Haruspex: The feeling that hinders you now is rage, oynon. You feel deceived because you put too much hope in those who have been guiding you all this time. Consider the fact that Aglaya has been guiding you according to her own truth. She is a servant of the Law.
> It doesn't matter—she has deceived and betrayed me. She treated me like a pawn, and I won't ever forgive her for that.
I feel Aremy’s emphasis on how Daniil feels hurt because he put too much hope and trust in Aglaya gestures to that Daniil seems pretty trusting by nature. I think how he acts in the Haruspex Route in particular suggests that he might not give out his trust completely right away, but he still strikes me as quite a social and collaborative person, despite everything. Just in how he quickly refers to Aglaya and Block as his best friends, or works amicably with Rubin and Artemy, or refers to his relationship with characters like Saburov as friendship, rather than an alliance or something similar. And it seems that Daniil truly did trust Aglaya, because when Clara first tells him about her plot, he shoots back, “You liar. Aglaya is my best friend and the most reliable ally I have.” So again, I think there’s an undertone of personal hurt here that goes beyond anger at being a pawn or made to tell lies (though in my opinion, they weren’t *really* lies).   
In this vein, I want to mention that Daniil already seems to associate lies with deception and a breach of trust, given this dialogue: 
Herb Bride: Do you really never tell lies?
> I hate lies. 
> Nothing is more villainous than deceit.* 
Herb Bride: Why? I didn't say 'deceit'. Telling a lie doesn't equal deceit.
> All my life those who pretended that black was white prohibited me from winning. Every deceit hides someone's dark intentions.
Herb Bride: What makes you think they have to be dark?
> Because they replace the true state of affairs with a false one to profit from someone else's suffering.
> It's in their nature.
The exchange provides some interesting insight into why Daniil despises lies so much—they have been used to fool him before, and prevented him from accomplishing his goals. I doubt this is his singular reason, but he seems to see lies as inherently manipulative and exploitative, which probably added salt to wound in the Aglaya situation. Daniil likely assumed that she had the worst intentions and took it as a personal attack against his victory, when really, Aglaya’s deceit was in their mutual interest in terms of getting back at The Powers That Be. After all, they wanted the Town unchanged, so to destroy part of it would indeed allow Daniil and Aglaya revenge. 
A final thing I want to mention is in an opening dialogue, when an Executor tells Daniil that “He who trusts everyone is asking to be deceived.” One of Daniil’s replies is, “Yet he who trusts no one is deluded. I know that from experience.” Which potentially makes this even more depressing, if Daniil was previously rather guarded. I could see how Daniil could  fall into considering himself his only ally, as he has rather outlandish goals that many people likely wouldn’t take seriously. Or perhaps it was from a place of ‘I know better than everyone else,’ which drove him to not take others seriously. Either way, the dialogue implies that Daniil was initially not as trusting as he seems in the game proper.  
I like that Daniil is trusting and hopeful; I personally dislike the idea that that is somehow more naïve than being guarded or pessimistic. I consider it one of his strengths, which allows him to work with others (even if he can be exceedingly ornery sometimes) and is an important foundation for his ideals. It’s all just sad to me how Daniil’s own virtues end up being used against him, but it makes an interesting case study of his character 
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I see you very much as an expert on all things Rohirrim, so I bring to you this question, hoping I can pick your brain for info to use in my own fics (full disclosure). 😅
It seems to be a popular fanon that the Rohirrim/Riders of Rohan have tattoos, and that body art is a part of their culture. Do you have any thoughts or personal HCs about this that you're willing to share?
Thank you in advance! I appreciate you and your blog so much (if you didn't already know that).
Oh my goodness!!! I am so very honored to be thought of as a person who is knowledgeable about my beloved Rohirrim, and I hope very much that I can live up to that reputation. Thank you!!!
I’m not aware of any real textual evidence for body art among the Rohirrim, and the historical record in the medieval Anglo Saxon and Norse societies that Tolkien used as a reference for them seems to be disputed. But I absolutely understand and agree with the conventional wisdom that tattoos are a thing in Rohan. It just fits well with a warrior culture that has a wilder, dare-I-say more pagan aesthetic as compared to the smooth solemnity of Gondor or the formal elegance of the elves. And since they’re a culture that doesn’t document things in written words, pictorial representations such as tattoos and body art would be one way to fill that gap (along with their songs and oral traditions).
In my mind, tattoos in Rohan are common but basic—they’ve really only got the technology for the “stick and poke” method so the designs are kept simple because anything too elaborate is difficult to pull off well. They’re mostly in black line (using soot) but some have color using powder made from grinding up certain dried roots and plants.
Each village/community has its own distinctive tattoo motif that is worn by all of that community’s members. So you can tell just by looking at someone whether they’re from Upbourn (a fish because it’s a river town) or Dunharrow (mountain peaks since they’re in the White Mountains) or Everholt (a boar in honor of the wild boar that live in this part of the Firien Wood), etc. And soldiers also tend to share tattoo designs specific to their éored—getting your éored’s mark is a formal rite of passage for the younger members when they first get assigned to their company. These shared tattoo designs are important both for group cohesion and as a means of identifying fallen Rohirrim even if the deceased isn’t known to whoever finds the body.
Beyond these ritualized and practical functions, I do also like to think that there are some purely decorative tattoos among them as a means of personal expression and/or to help cover small scars that so many Rohirrim have from battle, riding accidents or other mishaps. Obviously horse-based designs would be very popular, as well as other flora and fauna of Rohan. But they’re a very sentimental people and so I think little emotional signifiers would also be very common (again, especially because they generally don’t have a means to pay tribute to beloved people/things in written form, this sort of symbol would serve the purpose of making some kind of record of those tributes).
In terms of specific people in my head canon: Éomer has a little simbelmynë blossom for each of the major figures in his life that he’s lost (forearm). Háma had a sun to remind him of his wife, who brought warmth and light to his life (shoulder). Théodred had stars in the shape of a particular constellation that is visible every year on his mother’s birthday (chest). Éowyn has a representation of her father’s sword (left wrist) and gets a quill (right wrist) to represent Faramir after they get married. (Faramir got a little running horse in her honor on his first trip to Rohan. He was glad he did it, but he never wants to sit through that again.)
Merry brought tattooing back to the Shire when he showed up with a tobacco pipe on his bicep (both for its association with Buckland and in tribute to Théoden, whose last words to Merry were about smoking together someday when peace was restored). Unsurprisingly, tattoos did not catch on with the other hobbits, but Merry remains very proud of it.
Anywayyyy…I hope that was in any way helpful! Thanks so much for asking!! I remain a huge fan and am so grateful to you for helping convince me to put some of my thoughts and stories out there vs keeping them all in the confines of my own Google drive!
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