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cooki3face · 8 months

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cookie face master list ♡

message: this is my official master list for my tarot readings and any of my other favorite post that I’ve made so far, I make a lot of posts that aren’t titled or formatted in any way so this a good tool to use to be able to find any of my posts that are important to find that have any important information or did really well. Thank you to the user who recommended I create one of these, I had started making one some time ago but I ended up giving up because I was intimidated by how many post I had and how I would format this master list. ❤️

public psa & content breakdown (PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU INTERACT!!!)

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ tarot readings:

cookie face tarot info: (please read!!) (personal tarot readings closed)

Cookie face tarot readings ♡

entertainment:

your first time alone with your spouse 🖤

their last dream of you ☁️🔒

how people see you ⭐️

what will your marriage be like 💍

what would your divine masculine be like as a father

their favorite things about you 💐

how does your person view intimacy with you (18+)

what kind of seducer are you (18+)

what will you be like as a mother

what permanent union w/ your divine feminine would be like: divine masculine reading

why are they silent?

what lessons are you learning in love right now?

Messages from spirit on conflict between Israel and Palestine 🇵🇸❤️

your next quantum leap

what your in laws would think of you (and their child)

messages for singles from your divine counterpart

messages from someone who let go of you

what you need to hear right now: channeled from spirit

what’s going on in your friendships

Your present reality vs far future

***

energy check-in:

~ Energy check in w/ advice : July 2, 2023 ~

~ Energy check in w/ advice : June 27, 2023 ~

energy update 🧿: 8/18/23

six card pull: energy update ♡

***

divine feminine/divine masculine:

what’s going on within the divine masculine collective | divine masculine update | June 30, 2023

what would your divine masculine be like as a father

divine feminine/divine masculine update & twin flame update : 8-23-23

Divine masculine & Divine feminine update / twin flame update 🖤 : 8/30/23

what permanent union w/ your divine feminine would be like: divine masculine reading

***

spirit baby readings:

spirit baby reading 🧸

spirit baby reading🍼

***

disclaimer: any readings that I do can be switched around to resonate with any sex/gender. I’m just a woman and most of the imagery I’m attracted to is feminine in nature and I have a large feminine following and community so often times I feel their energy strongest when I’m channeling for the collective but if you’re a masculine energy that doesn’t mean there isn’t a message for you in a reading of mine!

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ spirituality/self-care/healing:

"Physical Pain In The Body And Their Spiritual Meanings"

“Differentiating between steady boundaries and self -sabotaging as a trauma response: how to identify & what to do”

“Understanding the difference between “niceness” & kindness”

My opinion on organized religion

"Manifesting with conviction & intention: What is it and how to do it"

"How to fix a broken sleep schedule: relaxation tips & creating an ideal bed routine"

“Your anger is the part of you that knows your mistreatment."

people pleasers

"men who refuse to grow up will find women who suit their lifestyles"

"Normal people have trauma"

"Nobody is responsible for your triggers and you aren’t responsible for any of anyone else’s"

"Grew up hearing that I was way too picky or that I wasn’t going to get everything that I wanted"

"my anxious attatchment style & mother wound"

"manifestation & energetic frequencies: what people want most in life"

"The dark night of the soul"

“How to navigate the dark night of the soul”

"A fear of being seen"

“wounded feminine energy vs wounded masculine energy”

“healing attachment styles”

advice for growing teenagers and young adults

***

parenting:

"you don't teach your children not to hit people by hitting them"

"gen z not taking sh*t from anybody"

gen x and millennial parents need to get help

***

affirmations:

Self assurance and inner alignment affirmations

Self love & self worth affirmations

divine feminine & divine masculine affirmations: Aug 21, 2023

***

dating/relationships:

"Marriage doesn’t just have to do with love/Women get nothing for marrying for free" : hypergamy

"Loving someone how they want to be loved vs. Loving them the way you want to love them"

“Differentiating between steady boundaries and self -sabotaging as a trauma response: how to identify & what to do”

“Your anger is the part of you that knows your mistreatment."

people pleasers

"love isn’t enough to make a relationship work"

"Rules for Navigating Men That Aren’t The One" (this is a really old post,but it falls under the category)

“What it means to love unconditionally & accept people for who they are”

“Healing attachment styles”

“When people say “please stop saying choose better or stop telling us to choose better because you know men pretend to be someone completely different in the beginning and then change.””

***

divine feminine/divine masculine:

"Broken femininity is generational trauma"

"cancer moon placements & the mother"

"Marriage doesn’t just have to do with love/Women get nothing for marrying for free" : hypergamy

"divine feminine in a twin flame connection: the best thing you can do for your divine masculine is keep loving yourself more"

divine feminine & divine masculine affirmations: Aug 21, 2023

“divine feminine & learning to transmute energy: introduction”

“Whatever you give a woman she will multiply it & give it back”

wounded feminine energy vs wounded masculine energy

““A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek him just find her."”

twin flames, soul mates, & karmics:

"divine feminine in a twin flame connection: the best thing you can do for your divine masculine is keep loving yourself more"

"separation & no contact in high level soul connections"

"is it possible to have increase of sexual energy before meeting your twin flame?"

"some twin flame connections could be toxic and can be hard to deal with, is this true?"

***

I believe that’s it guys, well not all of it ofc there are post I left out that were just little thoughts and think pieces I had that weren’t really all that relevant but most of anything important or sought after is right here. I’d like to say, that some of posts are really old and my format and theme was completely different so when and if you click on them and they look extremely foreign or aren’t well executed that’s why, I’ve been running this blog since 2020/2021, thank you. 💋

***

My social media platforms:

Instagram:

Main: @cooki3face_

tarot acc: @cookiefacetarot

Tiktok:

@cooki3face

***

about me post ❤️

Last updated: Friday, February 9, 2025 @ 2:35 pm

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meduarts · 1 year

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Managing Life (Part 4/?)

Summary: Marinette has been Audrey Bourgeois' secretary ever since she voiced out her dream of having her own business. Audrey thinks that she should learn more about the nooks and crannies of running a fashion business. However, fate has other plans for her, and honestly, what can our resident guardian could do to counter fate?

Disclaimer: I do not own MLB or DCU.

Pairings: Dick Grayson/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

A/n: Well, here we are with another update. Special thanks to @mysnis for giving me the idea for this chapter in particular!

Marinette had just finished the online meeting about the progress report from the main Style Queen branch in Paris. She huffed tiredly as she began to relax her overly stiffed body, a result from sitting for 5 hours straight for the meeting. She was going to lay on her bed when her phone started to ring.

She checked on who was calling her and to her surprise, it was Audrey. Curious, she picks up the call. "Madame? Do you need me to bake you more baked goods?" She asked in concern.

"Non non! Everything is perfect as usual! I'm just here to inform you that you have an interview with Brucie, tomorrow morning! I already made sure that your morning schedule is clear!"

"W-wait, What?" Marinette replied dumbly.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Marinette? Tomorrow morning, you have an interview with Bruce Wayne. He was looking for a new secretary and you are currently looking for a new mentor! Fate, non?"

"F-fate?? Wait! That dinner! I knew you were planning something! Did you pimp me out to him???" Marinette accused while ruffling her hair nervously.

She could hear Audrey's signature shrill laugh from the other side of the connection, "Oh please, Pimping sounds so crude! I merely just help out my darling protege to find a mentor! Anyways, be ready tomorrow morning, Brucie kindly told me that his Butler shall pick you up at 8 A.M sharp! Wear one of your designs and don't bother getting your portfolio and resume together because I already sent a copy to him! Entendue? Good! Have a good night's rest, my dear! Ta~' Then she hung up.

Marinette looked at her phone in disbelief, she was utterly speechless. She has an interview with Bruce Wayne. She has an interview with Bruce Wayne. INTERVIEW! BRUCE WAYNE!

The young secretary's mind went overdrive and crashed immediately. Negative thoughts about the things that would happen and imaginative scenarios about how she would fail the interview, making a mockery of herself in front of one of the most powerful men in Gotham began to pop into her mind. She didn't even notice that she was hyperventilating were it not for the kwamis shouts around her.

"Breathe, Marinette!" Exclaimed Tikki in her ear.

Marinette began rebooting and she made sure to do the breathing exercise that her therapist had mentioned. Once she is calm enough, the fact that she has an interview tomorrow morning made her anxious again. She bolted out from her bed and began pacing.

"Oh, this is a disaster! Completely a disaster! I-i'm nowhere ready! Merde, what if I fall, what if I accidentally spill water on his expensive suit?! WHAT IF I MADE HIM UNCOMFORTABLE???!!" She panics.

The kwamis looked at each other, exasperated at their silly Guardian. They watched in amusement at Marinette's tirade.

"What if I made him hate me?! I might have to fake my death, change my identity and move somewhere remote! To bora-bora or somewhere in Southeast Asia?! Perhaps, Indonesia?! Yeah, that sounds like a good failsafe, I could even change my name, dyed my hair, and even get cosmetic surgery to alter my look! Maybe I should become a hermit in Tibet instead! YES! That's a good idea!"

Plagg sighed frustratedly at his kitten, and he decided to put a stop to this ridiculous rant. He zoomed in front of Marinette and slap her nose, "Get a hold of yourself, kitten. It's getting ridiculous.".

It worked instantly, the girl sucked a deep breath before letting out a huge sigh. "Sorry..." She mumbled softly. "I spiralled again, didn't I?" She meekly asked Plagg with a sheepish smile.

Plagg gave her a droll look, "Ya think? You even talked about getting plastic surgery and becoming a hermit in Tibet."

Marinette blushed in embarrassment, "Yeah, I don't know where that came from."

The other kwamis floated around Marinette, some were giggling and some were looking at her with an exasperated smile. Duusu flew forward and hugged Marinette's cheek. "It's going to be alright, peafowl! You are good at your job and I'm sure that the Wayne man was impressed with your achievements!"

"That's right, Marinette! I'm sure that you'll do fine in your interview! Besides, we're always there for you so you're never alone!" Tikki agreed.

Nooroo shyly floats forward, "I-if it made you feel better. I-i'll be honored to accompany you! P-perhaps my calmness could help!" He offered meekly.

Marinette smiled warmly and reached forward so that Nooro could perch on her palm. She brought him closer and gave the butterfly kwami a gentle kiss. "Thank you, Nooroo. You're such a dear." She complimented which made the said kwami blush.

Marinette then looks at the assembled kwami and smiles brightly at them. "Thank you, all of you. I don't know where would I be without you all."

"Crash and Burn?" Plagg snarks. "A complete mess?" Trixx added. "Rich but not as elegant!" pipes Kaalki. Tikki and Wayzz moved to them and gave all three a whack.

"Don't listen to them, Guardian. I'm sure without us you would be okay." Wayzz argued.

"But I'd be lonely. Either way, I'm glad that we could meet. I'm glad that fate brought me to you. I love you guys." Marinette said and they all share a big hug.

She doesn't know what will happen tomorrow, but with the kwami around, she felt like she could do anything. With her resolve set, she started to form a plan on how to tackle the interview tomorrow.

She can do this!

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"I can't do this~" She whined miserably while hiding her face behind her hands. Currently, she's on her way to the Wayne Enterprise HQ. As Audrey had said Bruce's Butler, Alfred Pennyworth, picked her up at exactly 8 A.M. She wasn't late which was a good sign, she even made sure that she wore her best-designed dress! But after a few minutes sitting in Bruce Wayne's car, her anxiety had come back with gusto.

Alfred clears his throat to catch Marinette's attention. When the nervous girl looks up he gave her a warm smile. "What seems to be the problem, Ms Dupain-Cheng?" He asked kindly.

Marinette chewed her lips while her hands were fiddling together trying to keep herself grounded. "I-it's nothing, Mr Pennyworth. I'm just being silly, that's all."

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, "It must not be that silly since it's making you so nervous. Perhaps, I could give you a bit of advice if you want to talk about it?" he offered kindly.

The girl shrinks but then she felt an encouraging pat from her breast pocket. She looked downwards and was greeted by Nooro's encouraging smile. She let out a shaky sigh, "Well...I'm just nervous about this interview. Mme Bourgeois told me last night and I haven't prepared anything yet! I'm afraid of giving M Wayne the wrong impression. Not to mention, I had coincidentally met him at the park before and I did this stupid thing where I get to be this ridiculous know-it-all! Maybe I shouldn't do this interview." She whined to herself. Alfred smiled softly as he briefly glance at the ruffled-looking girl from the rearview mirror.

"Ms Dupain-Cheng, I think it is best if you take a deep breath and think about your next step and only the next step. You will never know whether you'll succeed or fail, right? Just one step, Ms Dupain-Cheng. Only one step." Advised the old butler while giving a knowing smile from the mirror. Marinette replied with a sheepish smile of her own.

She looks at her hands again and took a peek at Nooroo who was giving her a wide smile. She nodded to herself, took a deep breath, closes her eyes, and tries to clear her mind. Taking Alfred's words to heart she plans in her mind. She was going to do her best in the interview, she plans on what she was going to speak as an introduction and then she opened her eyes with renewed vigour.

She looks at Alfred and smiled brightly, "Thank you for your advice, sir. It definitely works." Her hands raised to her chest to cup the butterfly pendant that she had worn that day. "Just one step..." She whispered again for courage, then a whisper of a familiar voice added.

Do the next right thing.

She could feel her eyes beginning to water, somehow she could feel Master Fu's encouraging pat on her shoulder. A strange but familiar warmth surged to her whole body and she could feel her nerve starting to lessen. She will do the interview to her best ability. After all what's the worst thing that could happen?

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The worst thing did kind of happened.

So, after thanking Alfred for driving her to Wayne Enterprise and for the advice Marinette walked bravely to the huge building. Everything was going well so far, she told the receptionist about her appointment and the nice lady showed her the way to Mr Wayne's office.

The worst thing happened when she walked out of the elevator and ran into someone, hard. Her nerve came again during the elevator ride and once the door opened she bolted out from the confined space, and barreled into someone, sending them both to the ground with a loud thud.

"O-oh my gosh! I-I'm so sorry! I-i wasn't looking." She stuttered apologetically as she moved away from the person.

The one whom she stumbled to turns out to be a man who seemed to be the same age as she was. The man shook his head and held out a hand to stop Marinette's stuttering. "It's...fine." He said politely with a smile. He picked himself up and look at Marinette with a calculating gaze. "Who are you?" He asked politely.

"I-i'm Marinette. I-i was here f-for the interview? W-with Mr Wayne?" She said unsurely. She could feel herself being judged under those scrutinizing eyes of his and Marinette unconsciously flinched.

The man hummed noncommittally. "The office is just down the hall. Good luck, I think you'll need it." He said with a bored tone.

That set Marinette off from her previous nervous self. "And what makes you think I'll need it?" A hint of sass bleeds through in her tone. The man blinked, clearly unexpected to see a change of tone from Marinette.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything! It's just..." The man trailed off his words, his eyes darting around the room trying to think of a more polite way to voice his 'concerns'. "Look, I'm sure you are a very competent person, it's just I know Bruce and I don't think he's looking for someone like...you?" He finished unsurely.

Marinette was appalled, no she was furious, sure she had sent the guy flying with her nervous stumble but she couldn't help it. Her nerves got the better of her! However, that doesn't give him any right to judge her so lowly!

Before she could even give a seething remark the man pats her shoulder and gave an empathetic smile, which to Marinette looked so condescending that she wants to punch that smile off his face. "Anyways, good luck and I'm sure that there'll be another path for you." He 'advised' helpfully and leave Marinette seething and glaring murderously on his disappearing back.

Oh, she'll show him. If before she just wants to give her best for this interview and just leave everything to fate, now she's determined to get that job. She'll show him how much of a terrifying secretary she could be.

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Dick couldn't believe his odds to stumble upon the girl that he had met as Nightwing. The one that had confused his mind with the way the reports told how she had handled the Riddler and his goons. When the girl had sent him to the ground with her powerful stumble and had stuttered out her apology he was ready to believe that what happened with the Riddler had been a fluke.

There was no way that someone like her could do what the reports had stated. Yep, Dick now has a firm belief that what she had done was certainly a fluke. When she introduced herself and told him that she was here for the Secretary/PA interview with Bruce he winced inwardly.

The girl will be eaten by the wolves, where in this case the wolf is Bruce, but he digresses. So he wished the girl good luck and it seems that she had taken it wrongly. Dick had to find the right words to not hurt Marinette's feelings and after saying his piece he thought that he had done a pretty decent job to shoot down any hope for working as Bruce's PA.

He knows his adopted father and he knows that Bruce doesn't appreciate a scatterbrain of a secretary, even if she's quite pretty. He left the girl in the hallway thinking that it'll be the last time he'll ever see her again.

Short answer from the universe? He was wrong. He was so wrong.,

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Marinette waits outside of the CEO's office, still stewing from that guy's condescending attitude. Not even Nooroo's gentle pat could calm down her rage. She hopes that she won't see that guy soon because as much as she prides her ability to control her emotions she wouldn't count herself to not slap the guy silly.

"Ms Dupain-Cheng, Mr Wayne is ready for your interview." Called the lovely secretary who gave her an encouraging smile.

Marinette shoot out from her seat and nodded excitedly. "Thank you! I'm ready now." She said as she pats down her skirt to smooth any wrinkles away. She marched confidently to the office and greet the familiar man with a bright smile.

"M Wayne! We meet again!"

"Ah, Marinette. I can call you that right?"

She nodded with a confident smile as she approach his desk and waited next to the chair in front of him waiting for his permission.

"Oh! Please, sit-sit! I'm sure you already know what we're going to do today?" He asked with a pleasant smile. Marinette took a seat and gave a small shrug.

"I have to say, M Wayne. Madame Bourgeois informed me on such short notice that I'm afraid my preparation would not be as much as I wanted." She explained elegantly.

"Really? Audrey gave you such short notice? Do you want to reschedule the interview?" Bruce offered fully expecting her to accept the new agreement, instead, Marinette shook her head.

"Oh, no. I'm ready." She confidently declined. "I have a point to prove." She added with a smirk. Bruce chuckled and with that, the interview starts.

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Marinette didn't know how they even moved to this topic but right now, instead of interviewing, Marinette is eagerly pointing out the flaws of Batman's hero costume as well as the early Robins costume. Thankfully, Bruce didn't seem put off instead he was listening very intently and even took some notes from her rant. It was pretty surrealistic.

The interview had started out great and it didn't feel like she was being interviewed for a job position, to be honest. They talk about her ability to plan on her feet and anticipate unexpected occurrences. They talk about how she manages Audrey's schedule and made sure the company runs smoothly if one of the others is not present in HQ. Bruce even asked about how she handles difficult business partners or clients and considering the pleased smile on his face she felt like she nailed this interview. At one point, Bruce had asked about her fashion business and Marinette had excitedly explained how she started the business when she was thirteen during the heights of Hawkmoth's reign of terror. All in all, she would consider this a success!

While she was going to move on to talk about the atrocious colour shade that the first Robin had, Bruce Wayne's secretary had come inside the office to inform them about the fitting appointment that they had in one of the reserved meeting rooms. So, they ended the interview there and leave the office while discussing a new topic which is about capes.

"I'm just saying M Wayne, I just think that they should invest in an easily removed cape system. Imagine if the enemy manages to get their hands on the cape? Disaster!" She rants as Bruce frowned thoughtfully.

"You may have a point. Anyways, perhaps we should shelve this conversation for another time. We're here." He said as he opened the meeting room to show that there was already someone inside. "Ah! You're here, perfect. Marinette, I'd like to introduce you to my son. Richard Grayson."

Before either person could introduce themself they both gasped dramatically and pointed at each other with a different variety of shock.

"YOU!"

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Taglist: @timinette-is-bestbest, @peach-blueberry-pie, @tinybrie, @taewinterbear95, @its-maemain, @flyhighdreamer, @kokoroluna @kitsun3699 @lilfuturescarss @kaimodius @sinoffalsejudgement @night-ngale @laydeekrayzee @fauxnormal @stella17luna @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @ae-vixrose @toodaloo-kangaroo @ascetic-orange @l-of-the-gbt @lex-am @hemeraandnyxx @tbehartoo @babylovebug18 @allis-sun @wheredoesonegetnameideas @coolspidermanmusicflower @ascetic-orange @th3crypt1d @kamarallil @0anodite0 @talafairy(Tell me if you want to be a part of the taglist!)

#maribat #maribat fandom #marinette as secretary #managing life au #batfam x marinette #batfam and marinette #platonic brucinette #platonic timinette #platonic daminette #dickinette #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #mlb crossover

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dungeon-meshi-tournament · 4 months

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As per my girlfriend's suggestion and you guys' vote, it's the

Worst Outfit on the Marcille Tournament

This is the masterpost for the tournament. I'll pin it and update it with every new round, so you'll be able to find all polls easily.

The rules are very simple: You just vote for whichever one of Marcille's outfits you think is worse, by whatever metric you choose. The outfit with the most votes advances to the next round.

Propaganda is encouraged! Please put it in the body of the post so I can reblog it.

Spoiler warning: This tournament contains material up to the end of the manga. If you haven't caught up yet, you may be spoiled.

Finale:

Frog suit vs Fashion show (Fashion show won)

Battle for the bronze:

Underwear vs Baby (Baby won)

Previous rounds under the cut:

Semi-finals:

Frog suit vs Underwear (Frog suit won)

Fashion show vs Baby (Fashion show won)

Quarter finals:

Farmer vs Frog suit (Frog suit won)

Fashion show vs Laios' neckpiece (Fashion show won)

Cook vs Underwear (Underwear won)

Baby vs Prisoner (Baby won)

Round 4:

Pajamas vs Farmer (Farmer won)

Frog suit vs Namari (Frog suit won)

Sauna vs Fashion show (Fashion show won)

White dress vs Laios' neckpiece (Laios' neckpiece won)

Concept half-foot vs Cook (Cook won)

Underwear vs Sixth floor (Underwear won)

Baby 1 vs Baby 3 (Baby 1 won and became just Baby)

Prisoner vs Royal advisor (Prisoner won)

Round 3, part 2:

Canaries vs Concept half-foot (Concept half-foot won)

Cook vs T-shirt (Cook won)

Underwear vs Cute dress 1 (Underwear won)

Cute dress 5 vs Sixth floor (Sixth floor won)

Yellow sweater vs Baby 1 (Baby 1 won)

Baby 3 vs Toddler (Baby 3 won)

Cover daydream hour 5 vs Prisoner (Prisoner won)

Royal advisor vs Post-story adventure (Royal advisor won)

Round 3, part 1:

Pajamas vs Nightmare from eating monsters (Pajamas won)

Farmer vs Magic school (Farmer won)

Frog suit vs After a bath (Frog suit won)

Namari vs Cover chapter 38 (Namari won)

Child pajamas vs Sauna (Sauna won)

Fashion show 1 vs Fashion show 2 (Fashion show 2 won)

White dress vs Blind-folded (White dress won)

Laios' neckpiece vs Cover daydream hour 2 (Laios' neckpiece won)

Round 2, part 4:

Cover chapter 80 vs Yellow sweater (Yellow sweater won)

Toddler 1 vs Baby 1 (Baby 1 won)

Baby 2 vs Baby 3 (Baby 3 won)

Toddler 3 vs Funeral (Toddler 3 won and became just toddler)

Dungeon lord vs Cover daydream hour 5 (Cover daydream hour 5 won, surprisingly)

Christmas 3 vs Prisoner (Prisoner won)

Cover chapter 97 vs Royal advisor (Royal advisor won)

Post-story adventure vs Christmas 5 (Post-story adventure won)

Round 2, part 3:

Rin vs Canaries (Canaries won)

Morning dress vs Concept half-foot (Concept half-foot won)

Concept sixth floor vs Cook (Cook won)

Halloween vs T-shirt (T-shirt won)

Modern vs Underwear (Underwear won)

Cute dress 1 vs Cute dress 2 (Cute dress 1 won)

Cute dress 4 vs Cute dress 5 (Cute dress 5 won)

Cover chapter 74 vs Sixth floor (Sixth floor won)

Round 2, part 2:

Art model vs Child pajamas (Child pajamas won)

Sixth floor 1 vs Sauna (Sauna won)

Sheep vs Fashion show 1 (Fashion show 1 won)

Fashion show 2 vs Fashion show 4 (Fashion show 2 won)

Night gown vs White dress (White dress won)

Blind-folded vs Chilchuck (Blind-folded won)

Laios' dream vs Laios' neckpiece (Laios' neckpiece won)

Cover daydream hour 3 1 vs Cover daydream hour 3 2 (Cover daydream hour 3 2 won)

Round 2, part 1:

Concept vs Pajamas (Pajamas won)

Nightmare from eating monsters vs Witch (Nightmare from eating monsters won)

Living armour vs Farmer (Farmer won)

Magic school vs Fourth floor (Magic school won)

Frog suit vs Flashback (Frog suit won)

Resurrection vs After a bath (After a bath won)

Half-dressed vs Namari (Namari won)

Summery vs Cover chapter 38 (Cover chapter 38 won)

Round 1, part 4:

Yellow sweater vs Small child (Yellow sweater won)

Toddler 2 vs Baby 1 (Baby 1 won)

Pasta chef vs Baby 3 (Baby 3 won)

Cover chapter 83 vs Funeral (Funeral won)

Cover daydream hour 5 vs Christmas 2 (Cover daydream hour 5 won)

Winter vs Prisoner (Prisoner won)

Royal advisor 1 vs Royal advisor 2 (Royal advisor 2 won)

Christmas 4 vs Christmas 5 (Christmas 5 won)

Round 1, part 3:

Canaries vs Dancing (Canaries won)

Concept half-foot vs Underwear 1 (Concept half-foot won)

Ballerina vs Cook (Cook won)

Black dress 3 vs T-shirt (T-shirt won)

Christmas 1 vs Underwear 2 (Underwear 2 won and became just underwear)

Cute dress 2 vs Cute dress 3 (Cute dress 2 won)

Cute dress 5 vs Summer (Cute dress 5 won)

Grey dress child vs Sixth floor 2 (Sixth floor 2 won)

Round 1, part 2:

Nightmare from nightmares vs Child pajamas (Child pajamas won)

Golden kingdom vs Fashion show 1 (Fashion show 1 won)

Fashion show 3 vs Fashion show 4 (Fashion show 4 won)

Genderbent vs White dress (White dress won)

Chilchuck vs Black dress 1 (Chilchuck won)

Cover chapter 64 vs Laios' neckpiece (Laios' neckpiece won)

Cover daydream hour 3 2 vs Black dress 2 (Cover daydream hour 3 2 won)

Round 1, part 1:

Standard vs Pajamas (Pajamas won)

Farmer vs Half-dressed 1 (Farmer won)

Cover chapter 19 vs Fourth floor (Fourth floor won)

Fifth floor vs Flashback (Flashback won)

Hood up vs After a bath (After a bath won)

Witch 2 vs Namari (Namari won)

Cover chapter 38 vs Cleaning (Cover chapter 38 won)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi spoilers #marcille #marcille donato #tournament #poll #tumblr poll #masterpost #worst outfit on the marcille tournament

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toomuchracket · 1 year

Note

need some fiancé matty fluff so bad rn, also reader & matty‘s wedding!

let’s be honest, matty would cry watching you walk down the isle at ur wedding. full on tears and he’s not even bothering to wipe them away, he’s just so in love and he doesn’t care who knows it

Have you ever seen those videos of George and Charli DJing ?? I love them so much I imagine them having a set at the wedding 🥹🤍

the wedding!! basing this off of the venue being in london. after the rehearsal dinner finishes in the afternoon, i think you and matty have some time alone at home before you go off to do the "spending the night before the wedding apart" thing. you chill, have some wine and a bit of sexy time (imagine telling matty during sex that "next time we do this i'll be your wife". he'd lose it), before charli drops george and the boys off (they're staying in your house with matty that night) and picks you up so the two of you and the rest of your bridal party can stay in a hotel near your venue. and matty's halfway through the passenger window clinging to you before you leave like "please don't leave me at the altar like a twat" and you're like "as if i'd do that you're the love of my life! meet you there tomorrow" and you kiss.

and then matty looks at charli and goes "and don't you even think about seducing my missus into a torrid lesbian affair tonight" (as she threatens to do quite often, as a bit) and she winks and goes "no promises, healy, i mean look at her", and matty looks at you dreamily and says "... yeah" and you're like "you're gonna cry so bad tomorrow huh" and he's like "absolutely", then kisses you again before charli drives off. and the two of you have fun with your friends/families, but neither you or matty can fall asleep because you're not with the other :(( and he texts you like "can't sleep lol" and you reply "me either lol going for a smoke", and he's like "i'll do the same". so you're out on the hotel balcony and matty calls you and you guys just chat for a bit and it's really sweet, then he goes "s'past midnight angel, we should both get some sleep" and you say "yeah, it's technically our wedding day already and neither of us have gone to bed" and he laughs and says "so it is. sweet dreams, darlin'. see you in a bit" and you both go back to bed and actually manage to sleep. you're both up early, though - you get your hair and makeup all done before the bridal party gets glam, and matty takes mayhem for a really long walk and rehearses his speech on the way before he goes home to get ready. and the two of you are sending voice note updates and its making you even more excited about the day, and then it's time for some pics and then you're ready to go! and matty's probably in a black suit as per, but like the best black suit he's ever worn, and he doesn't even register the bridesmaids walking in because he's too busy craning his neck to catch a glimpse of you. and then you appear and he cries - your dress is perfect, you're glowing, and you just look like YOU, the love of his life. and you're smiling so big at him as you walk down the aisle (it's taking everything in you not to run to him), and when you reach him you say "hi handsome" and matty's like "you're perfect" and you giggle and reach up to wipe the tears off his face and he kisses the palm of your hand as you do, which everyone in the congregation swoons at. you cry at his vows. he cries at yours. adam's son passes the rings up with no problem, his dad behind him quietly sobbing. and then it's time for the kiss - matty being matty, he does something dramatic, either dips you like an old hollywood film or just grabs your face and kisses you. but it's a perfect kiss, full of love and contentment and joy, and then you sign the marriage certificate and that's it! you're married! and you have a little minute alone afterwards where matty's like "you're my WIFE" and you're like "hell yeah i am", and he says "well, wifey, can i kiss you?" and you're like "yeah i wanna make out with my husband". so you do, passionately, and it could turn into full-scale fucking but you both compose yourselves and go out to be congratulated by everyone before it does lol.

and the rest of the night is perfect, too. everyone's happy and laughing throughout the meal and george's best man speech, and crying at matty's (which he just recites to you off by heart). and then the boys get ready and play for you and matty's first dance (accompanied by phoebe, maybe) and it's PERFECT. after that, george and charli do a little dj set to start the party, and you and matty flit between dancing and chatting to people. it soon turns into all your producer and musician friends just taking turns to control the tunes, everyone getting a little tipsy and just having a great time. and there's so much love in the room, specifically between ross and your best friend/maid of honour, who have literally been glued to each other all night - you tried to dance with her to the spice girls but she was too preoccupied kissing him next to the bar lol. and then i think you and matty sneak out for a little smoke, and your hair's a bit messy and you're a little tipsy but you're so happy and matty takes a pic of you, cig in hand and all, because you just look the most beautiful he's ever seen you. and you're like "omg no i look like a mess" and he's like "nope that's my new lockscreen" and you giggle and just kiss him for a bit. and matty says "you're perfect. today's been perfect. i love you so much, wifey" and you say "i love you. can't wait to spend the rest of my life showing you that", and you cuddle. and matty's hands start to get a bit touchy and you're like "excuse me, husband!" and matty's like "as much as i'm enjoying today i just really want to take my wife home now" and you're like "actually fair i think you'll enjoy what i'm wearing under my dress (custom lace set lol)". and matty's like "right that's it i'm stopping the party now!" and you giggle and say "i love you" and he kisses your nose and says "i love you too" <3

#mads answers asks #mads muses #matty asks #fluff asks #fiance!matty #husband!matty

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wyvernquill · 1 year

Text

More Dreamling Anastasia AU

Because I must obviously be stricken down for my hubris if I say I refuse to write something. (Masterpost can be found here!)

This one’s an earlier bit, while they’re still trying to teach “Murphy” how to act like Dream, and first encounter The Corinthian - so please be aware that there will be Corinthian-typical mentions of stabbing and blood in this excerpt!

(Tagging @10moonymhrivertam again, and also open invitation for anyone who wants to be notified of new updates to tell me so, and I’ll tag you when/if I write other scenes!)

---

“Do the list again.”

“Hob…” Murphy sighs, visibly annoyed, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and face ducked into his scarf. There are snowflakes caught in the dark tangle of his hair, and Hob wonders briefly if he would accept Hob’s hat, or look at it with the same disgusted grimace he pulled when he was offered one of Gil’s spare cardigans.

“Come on. Again.” Hob encourages. “You’ll need to know it by heart, it has to be ingrained so deeply into you that I should be able to wake you up at three in the night and have you recite it perfectly.”

“Do not dare to wake me up at three in the night!” Murphy snarls, and they will really have to work on that temper - Gilbert is very insistent that Dream of the Endless’s fury was fierce, yes, but quiet, controlled, and merciless in its silence. These outbursts don’t befit a Dream King, and they’ll have to go.

“I was speaking metaphorically!” Hob laughs and holds up his hands defensively. “I know better than to disturb your sleep, rest assured. Matthew would peck my eyes out, for a start.”

(Judging from the look on Murphy’s face, the man would approve of that course of events, and possibly praise his raven afterwards.)

“But the list. Go on, Lord Morpheus, the list.”

Murphy sighs again, turning his face up to the snow-grey night sky. Hob is suddenly quite glad Gilbert shooed them out for a walk, to clear Murphy’s head after another long day of lessons - more lessons tomorrow, and then they’ll be travelling again over the weekend, always busy or on the move. It’s quite lovely, to have this moment of tranquillity, in the dark and the snow, and to see Murphy… well. Less frustrated and harried than he usually is, solemn and thoughtful and with chapped lips from the frost.

“Destiny, the oldest, in the maze, with the book.” He recites, only slightly sullen. “Death, the second, everywhere and everywhen, but always where she’s needed, with the ankh. Dream, the third-”

“Include the names.”

“Ugh. Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, the King of Dreams, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms, the Shaper of Form, Kai’ckul-”

“Kai-what?” Hob frowns. He hasn’t heard that one before.

“-Oneiros or the Oneiromancer, and the Lord of Stories.” Murphy continues, undeterred, slogging through the list just to have it be over quicker. “There, the names. Now: Dream, in the Dreaming, with the ruby - and sometimes the helmet and the sand. Always with a raven. Next, Destruction-”

“No, please,” drawls a voice behind them. “Tell us more about Dream.”

They both freeze.

Hob turns slowly, stepping to the side just slightly, just enough so he will be in range to shove Murphy behind himself, should it become necessary.

“I do so love bedtime stories,” the stranger who has approached them is grinning broadly, in a tan suit and coat much too thin for this weather, and dark glasses - sunglasses? At night!? - covering his eyes. “Though I always like ‘em best when they have gory endings. When the stepsisters cut their feet to fit into the glass slipper in the Grimm brothers’ version of Cinderella? Boy, I could listen to that all night.”

The man is holding a long knife in his hand, the sort not made for cutting anything but the flesh of your fellow man, toying with it - and Hob feels a prickle of fear slide down his spine.

“Who are you, to disturb us?” Murphy snaps haughtily, and Hob would be pleased at the excellent noble-arrogant cadence, if he weren’t suddenly fucking terrified of Murphy getting a knife in between the ribs for his cheek.

“Me?” The man laughs, throwing the knife up in the air, glittering, twirling, before catching it again. “You don’t remember little old me?”

The man’s teeth are too white, Hob notes, too bright, and too *many* when he smiles like this.

“I’m your worst nightmare, my Lord,” he says, still smiling - and then lunges forward, knife first.

Hob moves instantly, instinctively, without even a moment’s hesitation.

With his elbow, he shoves Murphy back, out of the way, and then bats the man’s knife arm off-course, coming in swinging with the other fist. It connects with an audible crack, but their assailant only laughs, giddy and breathless, and spits out half a mouthful of blood - is there some dripping from his eyes under the glasses, too - before evading Hob’s grip on his arm and dancing out of the way.

“Murphy, run!” Hob shouts over his shoulder, heart beating in his throat, blood up and boiling. He hasn’t gotten into alleyway fights in a year or two, but it’s familiar, the tang of blood, the rush of adrenaline. He’s always liked the brawls where there wasn’t a sharp object involved better, just two men and their fists - but if this madman wants a fight, he’ll damn well get one. Hob’s put better people than him in hospital.

Hob charges forward, goes for a grab at the knife arm again, and manages a short grapple, a kick at a shin, the tip of the knife wavering as they twist against each other, and slicing a red-hot line of pain along the side of Hob’s jaw - the man’s still grinning, holy shit, that’s unsettling - before the other twists himself free again with almost unnatural strength, and Hob has to jump back before that knife goes somewhere vital.

“Well, aren’t’cha quite the fighter, Hobsie?” The assailant says, with his dozens of bone-white teeth bared. “I’m glad. Makes it more fun to carve into you when you struggle a li’l bit.”

“Would love to see you try,” Hob spits back, wiping his cheek, his blood dripping red onto the snow.

They throw themselves at each other again, and the man is impossibly strong, delivering an almost casual punch against Hob’s sternum that knocks the breath out of him, forcing him back a couple stumbling steps.

And Hob knows he should run, too. The best way to win a streetfight is to not be in one, and he’s not keen on getting stabbed. Would be a waste, to die now, when he’s so close to earning himself immortality…

…but he needs to buy Murphy time.

The thought alone, of seeing Murphy dead in the snow, blood pooling around him in and coat spread out like broken wings - he can’t bear it. He’s got the man into this fucking mess, and he cannot let Murphy die because of his con. This is supposed to be a win-win situation for them all, not a threat to anyone’s life!

And if somebody’s life is threatened, it better be Hob’s own. Only fair - he gets the biggest reward in the end, he should shoulder the brunt of the risk as well.

Hob coughs one last time, eyeing the blood-red tip of the assailant’s knife. He won’t die here, he refuses to, and he’ll fight until the bitter end if-

“Wait,” Murphy says, and Hob’s heart stutters in his chest.

The idiot! The absolute fool! Hob told him to run, why the fuck is he still here!?

Hob gets barely more than a second of panic in before Murphy steps up beside him, glowering darkly at the man with the knife…

And then, in a movement quick as a flash, he throws a handful of salt-grit-sand mix - the sort the city keeps in large containers alongside the streets in wintertime, to make the snow and ice safer to traverse - straight into the man’s face.

The man screeches, voice strangely dissonant, as if it comes from three mouths at once, and jerks back sputtering, dropping his knife and covering his face with his hands.

Hob kicks the knife away, out of reach, on instinct - and then he feels a bony hand curl around his own, dragging him away, and he lets it, running hand in hand with Murphy for dear life.

(There are angry shouts behind them, threats, but Hob never looks back, only squeezing the cold palm against his harder.)

They run, and run, and run, until they finally reach the relative safety and familiarity of the street outside their inn, both gasping for breath as they lean against its walls.

“You… need not… have come…” Murphy wheezes, his thin chest heaving under his thick coat, even as his eyes are burning with indignation, “to my… defence!”

“Clearly!” Hob rasps, sliding to the ground, uncaring for the snowmelt soaking through his trousers. “Still… I didn’t want to be standing in front of the Endless alone, in a few weeks’ time.”

He grins up at Murphy - the wound along his cheek burning as he does it - and the sharp retort about being perfectly capable of handling himself in a fight visibly dies on Murphy’s lips.

He crouches down besides Hob, coat puffing up around him, and brings one hand up to cup Hob’s jaw, to turn it and inspect the line of red their attacker’s knife left there. Thumbs the cut, smearing warm blood along Hob’s cheekbone.

“You were hurt,” he murmurs, dark voice almost wavering with distress.

“Shallow cut.” Hob catches Murphy’s wrist before he can fuss any more with the wound, rubs a thumb soothingly over the thin bones there. “I’ll live.”

“Foolish man,” Murphy grumbles - but he’s very nearly smiling as he says it.

Their eyes meet.

They’re both still breathing hard, and for all his haggard, skeletal build and sunken face lined with long years of hardship, Murphy looks almost lovely like this, lips slightly parted and pale face flushed with exertion, looking up at Hob through his lashes as if…

As if…

Hob leans forward, and Murphy does too, something burning bright and smouldering hot between them, lips getting close enough to brush-

“ROBERT! MURPHY!” Gilbert slams open the door beside them, and they both jerk apart as if burned.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re here!” Gilbert flusters, wringing his hands on the grip of his cane. “I had the most terrible premonition that my two dear friends were in danger, most ghastly, so I rushed- Robert, are you bleeding!?”

“I’m fine, Gil,” Hob tries to wave him off - to little avail.

Hob is ushered up into their room, sat down, and then berated by Gilbert for his recklessness while Murphy is carefully, studiously, dabbing at Hob’s wound with one of Gilbert’s handkerchiefs and pointedly not making any eye contact.

(Though Matthew is more than making up for that, staring Hob down as if he knows exactly what almost transpired outside the inn’s door, and is rather firmly against the idea of letting it happen again…

Which it surely won’t. It was a mad impulse in the spur of the moment - they both know better, now.

Yes.

They both know better.)

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #and feel free to send me asks if you want me to elaborate or something #or what i had in mind for other scenes #i'm always happy to chat!#i just couldn't resist an almost-kiss here #and gratuitous references to the 1789 scene #hob and dream fighting to protect each other my beloved #also the corinthian is LUCKY gilbert got the memo a little late #because yes he DOES have a sword in his cane #and he happily would have used it #maybe he will in a later confrontation #because i suddenly have a mighty need for gilbert vs. corinthian sword-knife fencing #matthew kind of likes hob by the way #but after years of protecting murphy on the streets he's just overall wary of others #even if they seem like good guys who let him sip from their beers

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rossellini-tyrell · 8 months

Text

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 6 - Set Me On A Silver Sun (for i know that i'm free) I

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Word Count: 4,458

Warnings:

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING

This chapter contains references to the events of Chapter 1, multiple fairly graphic descriptions of periods (yes, those periods) and some non-sexual nudity + bathing and washing on the reader's part. THERE IS NO SMUT OR ANYTHING EVEN CLOSE. I put reader through a lot of things this chapter, but it's all okay, because Pav makes everything better - where there's hurt here, there's always comfort. However, if these are triggering topics for you, be warned! Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"Any updates on that guy Spider-Man beat up? That guy at the night club?" a man asks. Pavitr hides out of sight, listening in on the discussion taking place in the prosecutor's office. "He accepted the plea deal. Turns out the building next door had a surveillance camera that caught the entire thing, an anonymous tip sent in the footage. There was no arguing out of that," the prosecutor explained. Pavitr had sent in that tape himself, having gone back to scout around the scene and lucked into that camera. A little bit of sweet-talking was all that was needed to ply the camera's owner into surreptitiously letting him take a peek at the feed from the night before. They were more than happy to let him have a copy of his own with just a few honeyed words. "Ah, well I guess he won't be wasting our time then, not to mention putting that poor girl through a trial," the man muses. The prosecutor shuffles her papers on her desk, clearly getting ready to leave for the day. "The sentencing hearing was set for a month out. I had Victim's Services call her yesterday to let her know. At least this should give her some relief," she replies. Pavitr slips into the night, not bothering with the rest of the conversation. It's already so late, you're probably asleep by now and he's got a hungry kitten at home to feed that's growing bigger by the day. He resolves to bring it up with you in the morning, over a nice breakfast while curled up on the couch. For now, he slips back inside his unit, strips the suit off and slides on a well-loved tee with the Kochi Tuskers logo on the front, fading away after many washes and ill-advised overuse of fabric softener. Sheru mewls a greeting from where he's perched on the foot of Pavitr's bed. "Hey there, buddy, didja miss me?" he chatters to the kitten, reaching over to give him a scritch behind the ears that is rewarded by an arch into the touch, just the way he likes it. His body condition is filling out nicely, no longer the emaciated little wisp he used to be.

Sheru purrs a little mrrow, contented.

"I missed you too, bitty fidget," he says, lifting the kitten up to kiss on his adorable pink nose. "You're so cute I could eat you up." The golden kitten squirms in Pavitr's hold. "Speaking of eating, lets get your dinner out, I've made you wait long enough for me," he says, and he carries Sheru into the kitchen to set out his well-overdue food.

---- He feels it before he hears it. drip, drip, drip it goes, from his ceiling into his dreams. The tendrils of hurts hurts hurts wind around his wrists where the web should be. The sky above him is a sickly purple, shattering above him into endless splinters when— luh-luh-LEAVE ME ALONE I D-D-DON'T WANT TO The tendrils pull and he follows, shooting up stock still in his bed. Pavitr's breathing comes in heavy, ponderous breaths, his sense is screaming at him and he's overcome by— pavitr spiderman help me please dont make me please help help help pav please dont let him Sheru urgently chirps at him from where he's tucked against his knee, as if to say go, help her.

His heart hurts hurts hurts because you're in pain and now he's in pain and he wants to do nothing more than help, but he remembers that this time, he can. He ignores the drip, drip, and grabs the bangles and says to hell with the rest of it, he lets your screaming take him up, up, up, surrenders to the pull you have on him to navigate him silently through your bedroom window, the one you've started to leave unlocked for him. Like an arc of lightning, he's there at your bedside, to where he finds you thrashing in your tangle of bedsheets. Pavitr's only seen you after, but never during like this, there's just so much hurt and pain and he hurts— pav i love you puh-puh-please dont leave

"Oh, ahava, I have you now, I'm here" he breathes emphatically, gathers you up into his tight hold while he sits on the edge of your bed. He vigorously rubs your back, plants his lips firmly to the crown of your head over and over to bring you gently, quickly into the waking world with him. Your flailing ceases, your cries fizzling out into unintelligible blubbering, eyes flickering open to a blurry scene.

"Hey there, dove. Hey. Hey, it's okay, you're safe, you were having a nightmare, okay? It's all over. You're okay, you're okay, you're safe in your bed with me," Pavitr soothes into your ear. He senses you shifting in his hold, as if you wanted to press yourself impossibly closer, to melt into him. Your crying gets louder, now fully awake and completely frightened. "Hey, come here, come here, hold me, it's okay, I'm right here, sweet girl," he tenderly instructs, making room for you to wrap your arms around him fully, let him bracket your hips between his knees. "It's okay, you're safe. C'mere, I have you, Pavu's here," he pours comfort from his lips, like warm milk with honey. You grab on and hold, scramble for purchase on his t-shirt as if the tendrils of hurts hurts hurts would pull you down into the next world if you didn't. High, breathy sobs are muffled by the fabric on his shoulder, the clean laundry soap smell and his own scent beneath it are grounding. Pavitr drags out slow, firm circles against your back, the fabric of your pajama top damp with sweat. "It's okay, it's okay, my precious girl, Pavu's gotcha. C'mere, my darling, it's okay, shhhh, it's alright, darling, I'm right here, right here," he cooes to you, trying to calm your heaving respiration with the pressure of his hand against your back. "Breathe, darling, breathe, it's okay, oh my sweet baby girl, shhhh..." More squishy kisses are dotted along your sweaty hairline. You let your head loll to one side, let it rest in the hollow of his throat. You start to settle in his embrace, your head feels so heavy. "That's my sonu, that's my darling girl, there's a love, shhhh..." he praises, the words tender and sweet in your ear. Pavitr trails his kisses to the skin of your forehead, becoming alarmed at the heat he feels against his lips. "You have a fever, sweet girl," he murmurs, the hand on your back coming up now to brush your hair back. "He-head h-hurts," you stammer. Pavitr clicks his tongue, presses a long kiss to your temple.

"Oh, my poor ahava, looks like you've picked up a cold," he tuts. "No wonder that nightmare was so—" and that's when he sees it. He catches a glimpse of the sheets bunched around your legs. In the low light of the room, he makes out a dark splotch, extending to the insides of your thighs where your pajama bottoms cover them. His heart breaks, crumbles in his chest, because all of this could not have come at a worse time for you. "Pav, what are you—ohmygod, nonononono," you whine, embarrassment taking hold of you quickly. Everything burns, your breath is coming quick and stuttered, fresh tears pool along your waterline. You try, and fail to push yourself out of Pavitr's hold, but he doesn't allow it for a second. "Hey, hey, (You), hey. Hey," Pavitr croons in your ear, a stern edge to his voice. "Don't look at that, look at me," he orders, one hand moving to guide your face towards his. "B-but there's—you saw," you protest.

"Oh, dove, c'mere," he commands in the softest of voices. Your boyfriend tugs you even closer, melding you against his chest. He peppers kisses upon your knitted, sweaty brow. The affection drowns out the utter disgust you feel right now with yourself. "Don't cry, darling, everything's okay. I'm not going anywhere," he assures, gives your back a steady rub for good measure while resting his chin atop your head. "Can't, it h-hurts, and I'm so gross, I'm s-sorry—" your voice devolves into a high whine. "Hey, hey, hey, none of that, sweet girl, none of that," he gently, firmly ends your protests. He smudges a kiss against your chapped lips to make sure you get the message. "Let me fix it? Gonna take such good care of you, yeah?" "Y-yeah," you acquiesce, between snuffles into Pavitr's shirt. "Okay, sonu, you stay right here, I'm just gonna grab a couple things and I will make it all better, okay?" he says, waits for your nod of assent. He kisses your nose when you do, leaps from the bed to rummage around in what he knows is your underwear drawer. He nabs a few of your darker pairs, and a couple sports bras too, then spots a couple of spare laundry bags to stuff them in. He then gets to work stripping the bed, wrestles the ruined flat sheet into the other bag. Thankfully, no sign of damage to the mattress, a small comfort. Once he has everything, he returns to your shivering, whimpering form. "Okay, okay, I'm here now, Pav's here," he reassures, brushing his nose against yours. "Pav is going to take care of you now, you just relax and let me do all the work, yeah?" "Yeah," you breathe, all cried out. "There's my girl," he purrs, it's so fond and milky-sweet you're not sure you deserve it right now, nor the way he cups your flushed, fever-warm cheek. Pavitr wraps your legs up in the flat sheet tangled around you, the discolored areas covered up. He slings the laundry bags over one shoulder and lifts you into a bridal carry like it's nothing. He hops out onto the fire escape, casts a web out to slowly lower you both down to his unit. "Almost there, dove, just need you to put your arms around my neck and I'll get you sorted, I promise," he coos. You comply, using the little strength you have left to do so. Your boyfriend carefully rappels you both until you reach his fire escape, and he bundles you into his apartment, cheers a we're home, my darling into your ear. From there, he carries you straight to his bathroom. It's much like yours, expect his unit comes equipped with a bathtub, a feature yours lacks. Pavitr turns on as few lights as necessary and sets you down on the toilet lid. He efficiently roots through his medicine cabinet, finds the cold medicine and painkillers and sorts them, with a glass of water.

"For the pain, ahava," he explains. He passes caplets for you to take, you choke them down, and he helps you sip the water to chase it down, you sputter on it anyway as a cough wracks your body. "My brave girl," he praises, rewarding you with a back rub for your efforts. Your vision is hazy from the remnants of the nightmare, but you meet his eyes through the fog. Sleep is weighing heavy on you and you start to go adrift with it. "Tired..." you bubble out, your chest crispy, frothy on the inhale. "I bet you are, sweet girl, you can sleep so soon," he promises, stopping to wipe some sweat-matted hair from your forehead. "Gonna run you a nice bath, put you in some new clothes, and I'll tuck you into bed with me, doesn't that sound nice?" "S'nice..." you slur, swaying in your seat. "Oh no, not that!" Pavitr chides, a gentle laugh rumbling in his throat. He reaches out to right you, guiding you into sitting up by the shoulders. "You gotta stay with me a minute, okay? Just a little longer for me?" "Uh-huh," you agree. He grins and pecks you on your flushed cheek, his lips pleasantly cool on your skin. You hear him start the water and fiddle with something under the sink, out of your view. He tosses something into the tub, you think you could be imagining things, but you pick up on a slight floral aroma, it's hard to tell with a nose that feels stuffed with cotton wool. He sets out and opens a box on the counter, you recognize it as the box of pads he'd brought home, all that time ago.

"Okay, darling, I'm gonna take care of this—" he says, untangles the sheet from where it's wound about your legs. "—And I'll bring you some towels and clean clothes. Leave your clothes by the door when you get in the bath, I'll knock and swap them out once you've gotten in the tub, alright?" "O'tay," you murmur, eyelids fluttering. Pavitr's heart melts into a puddle of goo right there, he boops your nose with one pointed finger because oh you're precious like this, even under the circumstances. "So cute, sonu," he gushes. "You have fun in the bath, come find me when you're done," he directs. With a final pet of your head, he leaves you to it, taking the sheet with him. He assesses the damage once he gets to the washer, and honestly, he's seen worse. Years of vigilantism have taught him how to get blood and god knows what else out of his suit, whether it was his or theirs. No matter, he runs through his usual routine and sets up a cold water wash, then raids his linen closet for the mahogany-toned bath towels Miles had given him as a housewarming present when he first moved here. Pavitr stops by his bedroom last, piles on a cozy pair of track pants, some fuzzy socks, and one of his favorite old tee shirts, the one you seem to love rubbing your face on whenever he wears it. He then raps on the bathroom door, knocks one, two, three times. There's no reply. "(You)? Dove?" he calls out. Still radio silence. The thrum of the tub filling drones on behind it. He taps his knuckle on the door thrice more. "(You), I have clothes and towels for you, are you okay with me opening the door?" he presses his ear against the door, and there's nothing. Pavitr chokes down the lump of worry in his throat and steels himself to go in anyway. "(You), I'm gonna come in, okay?" he announces. He backs himself into the room in case you're not decent, and, to his surprise, finds you exactly where he'd left you. You're perched on the toilet seat, still in your clothes and slouching off to one side. The tub is just about filled, he deftly stops the tap before setting the linens down and examining your state. You're dazed, eyes unfocused, bleary, as if in a trance. "You weren't kidding when you said you were tired, huh," remarks Pavitr, cupping your chin in both hands. You don't reply beyond arching into the touch, sleepy nonsense spilling from your lips, and Pavitr can't resist cooing at it. He sighs heavily, realizing what he's going to have to do now—leaving you like this isn't an option, and he can't fairly put you in bed in your condition. He'd imagined this scene playing out so differently, if you'd ever wanted for that, and he hates the idea of taking that experience from you, for whom a positive "first" is few.

"Hey sweet girl, we gotta get you out of these so you can get cleaned up and sleep. Are you okay with me helping you if I promise to cover you up?" he asks, as if he were explaining to a small child.

"'M too tired. You do it," you mutter. Your eyelids look like they weigh ten tons when you peep at him through the small amount you can pry them open for.

"Alright then, lift your arms for me, darling," Pavitr instructs. You comply (barely) and he lifts your top from the hem. He pauses at your bust line to drape you from collarbone to knee in the biggest and fluffiest of the towels, then pulls you flush against him to pull the top most of the way up from the back, before getting the towel all the way around under the shoulders. Satisfied that you're covered, he frees your arms from the top, and takes a deep breath before kneeling, hands brushing the crests of your hips.

"Can I take these off?" Pavitr asks. He waits patiently for your nod of assent, and then works everything else over your hips and down your legs in one go, shuffles it all off to the side before you have the chance to worry about what became of them.

"All finished! I'm gonna help you get in the tub now," he says, and loops an arm under your shoulders to guide you onto your feet, the room swims as you do, the sinus congestion making itself known with the dull throb against your cheekbones. Your boyfriend holds you up as you step into the tub of deep indigo water, and then discards the towel to pull you close enough to lower you into the tub without either you falling, or him seeing something he shouldn't. For a second, Pavitr thinks he catches a flash of your exposed chest in the low light of the room, but finds himself unable to care.

"The w-water, its...it smells good," you croak, voice crackling in your vocal cords like a grocery store receipt crushes in your fist. You can feel the heat starting to weave gentle fingers through the knot laying heavy in your stomach, unwinding the tension and clearing up the fog of congestion in your head.

"That'd be the epsom salt cube. I was gonna surprise you with it next week, but I figured you could do with a little pampering right now," explains Pavitr. He perches himself on the rim of the tub, and pours into one hand a generous amount of the very expensive shampoo he uses, you know it immediately by the sharp apple-citrus notes that hang about him whenever you go for a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, Pav, are you—oh, fuh-fuck," you bite out as your boyfriend starts to work the shampoo into your hair, confident fingers and thumbs massaging into your scalp. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you sink deeper into the tub, neck immediately relaxing into his hold as he gently tugs at the roots of your hair.

"Shhhh, ahava, let me spoil you," he shushes you. Your eyes flutter open to catch his expression, the way the tip of his tongue peeks out between his lips as he focuses on applying just the right amount of pressure with each pass, his nails scratching your scalp just so. It's amazing to you how you can be caked in all manner of crud, and this gorgeous man could not be more adamant about literally carrying you home with him, doing domestic things like your laundry, buying you pads, washing your hair for you, and the look on his face is so in love it makes your poor tired heart want to melt away, like the salt in the bath.

"That's your good shampoo though," you protest. Pavitr snorts, it's hard to take you seriously now with how you're putty in his hands, utterly surrendered to the almost medicinal way he's kneading his fingertips into the skin of your scalp.

"I was hoping you'd notice, sonu," he replies, the gentle grin still crossing his face. The pads of his thumbs find purchase at the base of your skull, drawing firm circles to release the tension he finds there, you exhale a curse as he does so.

Your brief surge of alertness begins to wash away with the shampoo suds. The rhythm of Pavtir's fingers stroking through your hair is calming, sleep laps at you in waves and he easily supports your weight in his hands. Your aches and cramps bleed out of your pores, drawn out by the epsom salt in the bath, but also by the warmth of his hands. Your eyes fall shut once again, sinking down, down to the bottom of the tub, to the ocean, weighed down by the lead balloon of fatigue. You hear the rush of water when he lowers your head into the tub just enough to cover your hairline, the soft thump of your heart in your ribcage amplified by the liquid. It should be frightening, but it's not, you feel safe with the way he cradles your head in his hands, knowing he'd never let you drown. He's never let you drown.

Pavitr props your head on a rolled up towel at the end of the tub. You feel him take one of your hands, and then a soft, wet cloth tracing gentle circles down the length of your arm.

"Feels good?" you hear him ask. His voice sounds a million miles away through your blocked ears.

"Mmm..." you hum, relaxing into the warm embrace of the water. Pavitr laughs quietly and firmly kisses your palm, laces the cloth between your fingers to scrub there for good measure.

You feel him repeat the act on your opposite arm, stopping at the point of your shoulder. The touch is fond, as if to say hush, beloved, it turns your already weary limbs into something not unlike an overcooked noodle, tossed about by a gentle rolling boil. There's a shuffling noise, and then Pavitr's reaching into the tub for one ankle.

"Gonna take such good care of you," he purrs.

The cloth tickles a little as it passes the arch of your foot, the curve of your ankle. Long strokes pass along your calf to your knee, the pressure increasing to slough off any dirt or sweat that might be there. He gets all the way around it, and then halts at the inside of your knee.

"Can I go a little higher?" he asks.

You try your best to open your eyes, barely making him out in the low light of the room.

"You don't have to say yes. I just...wanted to help, if you were okay with it. And I really do mean only a little higher." he explains.

Since the first time Pavitr kissed you in your kitchen, he's not once broken your trust, or asked anything of you he didn't know you'd want to give. Wherever you went, he met you where you were.

"Yeah, you can," you sleepily agree.

You feel him rub your knee with his other hand, before slowly, somewhat firmly, stroking the cloth up the inside of your thigh, the cloth dips below the water line as he goes. The touch is soothing, not teasing, and he loops back down with plenty of room to spare before the juncture of your hip, true to his word. Your body is pliant, easily maneuvered like a fashion doll. Pavitr retraces his path one, two, three times, just enough to clean up the skin beneath his hand, no more. He balances your opposite leg on your knee to treat it the same, rotates your hip just enough to get at everything, keeping the rest of you obscured below the colored surface of the water.

When he's satisfied with his work, he flips the drain switch, and grabs the towel from the floor.

"Let me get this under your shoulders," he cues, two towel-covered hands winding around and under your underarms. "There's a love, stand up for me one last time," he praises.

You follow, pushing yourself up on shaky, boneless legs. Pavitr does most of the work anyway, the towel falls in front of you as you stand to keep you covered. He deftly pivots you back onto the toilet seat, then grabs a second towel to dry off your hair and neck. He gives you a brisk rub, then, in a flash of playfulness, covers up your face with the towel. He quickly reveals your face again, your drowsy expression wringing a giggle out of him, he can't resist kissing the tip of your cute nose.

"Silly…" you mutter, the biggest grin you can muster crosses your face at the idea of Spider-Man of all people playing peek-a-boo with you. His sense of humor in a difficult moment warms your heart.

"You love it," Pavitr jests, blows you a kiss.

He fishes a packet from the box on the sink counter, unwraps it and adheres the contents to the inside of the clean underwear. He knows you're going to give him flak for it later, he doesn't care, he's a fucking adult and you're about to fall asleep sitting up, he just wants to get you out of here as quickly as possible. He kneels at your feet, feeds your legs through the underwear, then the track pants, and guides you through shimmying them up past your hips.

"Bed…" you whine, slumping off to one side. Your face is still colored with the overtone of malaise.

"I know, sweet girl, I'm almost done, don't worry," reassures Pavitr, slipping the fuzzy socks onto your freshly dried feet. He reaches for the shirt, the last step.

"Arms up, pretty girl," he tells you, voice low and soft, like a thick, dreamy fog.

You comply, and he quickly pulls the shirt over your arms and torso, the towel drops off as the skin is covered. Before you can blink, you're bundled up off the ground, face pressed against a warm chest. You can't help but snuggle closer, the chills rippling through your fever-ridden body driving you to seek out the heat.

You're set down onto a cloud of linen, down, and cotton, rich and fluffy, and smells like him. You don't know why you've never been here before. The cloud sinks a little as he climbs up beside and around you, pulls up the comforter over the both of you.

"You did so well, darling girl," he rumbles. Arms pull you back into his chest, wind around you into a cozy cocoon with the tangle of his legs. Here is safe, warm, comfy, and the praise makes your head feel all muzzy.

"Sleep..." you breathe, burrowing closer into Pavitr, craving the closeness.

Pavitr giggles lowly, smears one, two, three kisses to your temple and forehead, still far too hot. The flat of his hand drags back and forth between your scapula, slow and hypnotic.

"Yes, ahava, you can sleep now. I'm gonna take such good care of you," he hums into your skin. "Rest now, my brave girl,"

The soft, steady thump of his heart against your ear is your lullaby, the bounds of his arms and chest your cradle. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, letting it fill your tired lungs and soothe your ravaged throat. On the exhale, soft tendrils of sleep sleep sleep wind about you, pull you under, and you willingly follow. There's no pain, no sickness, no heartache, just him.

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baejax-the-great · 5 months

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Sweet Victory

Patroclus x Achilles | college AU | E | Chapter 8/9

For my birthday I bestow on you more nonsense and an updated chapter count.

Patroclus is jerked awake, a hand grabbing his shoulder. “Wha…?” he asks the dark room, his breath coming in short pants, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Achilles. It’s Achilles in his room, kneeling next to his bed. That’s alright then. Patroclus gulps down air and tries to orient himself.

“I was?”

“I… I heard it,” he says as Patroclus touches his own face. Tears? No, sweat. He’s covered in sweat.

“Sorry,” Patroclus says. It’s been a long time since he’s had a nightmare like that—one where he makes enough noise to alert other people. Not since—not since middle school. Whatever it was that had him yelling or crying or whatever, it’s already almost completely faded from his mind.

“Are you… okay?” Achilles asks.

Is he? He might not remember what he was dreaming about, but the feeling it gave him lingers. Dread. Grief. Now that he’s awake, there’s really no reason for that feeling to go away. Achilles is leaving him. Achilles wants to leave him. Everything in his life is just as screwed up as it felt back when he had the nightmares every night as a kid until Achilles dragged a blanket and pillow into his room and slept next to him on the floor.

He takes too long to answer. Achilles gets up and starts to leave.

“Don’t,” Patroclus blurts out, unable to stop himself. It’s too dark to see much of anything, but he can tell Achilles has stopped moving. “Don’t leave. Stay.” Like earlier, he doesn’t mean just now, but for Achilles to abandon his plans of moving out and stay in the suite. Stay with him. “Please.”

Achilles leaves the room, and Patroclus covers his face. How many times is he going to beg? He’ll keep begging until Achilles finally disappears forever. How can this really be the end of it all?

Read the rest here | Or start from the beginning

#patrochilles #college au #fanfic

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aquagirl1978 · 2 years

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I don't know if you've done the route of Chevalier Michel and follow the routes of his events but if the answer is yes, you could make a fanfic of anguish in which Chev dreams of the feeling of love and all the good things that belle gave him then he wakes up knowing what he could have had with her but current belle chose to love clavis

Thank you @miracler18 for this very angsty request! You have no idea how heart-wrenching a prompt like this is for someone who loves Chevalier so much.

When I mentioned to my friend, @randonauticrap that I was working on this prompt, she told me she was working on the reverse! For Chevalier fans, if this fic upsets you, please visit @randonauticrap blog and read her fic where Chevalier gets a "happier" ending. For Clavis fans, well.... you guys finally win in this one. So, I hope y'all enjoy this one.

Just a Dream - Chevalier Michel (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: A companion piece/reverse to my friend @randonauticrap's fic "A Heart to Cling to" that can be read HERE.

Pairing: Chevalier Michel POV

Tags: Angst, Clavis finally bests his older brother

Chevalier wasn't sure how or when, but some way, somehow, his simpleton managed to worm her way not only into his life, but his heart. One day, she was falling from the library ladder into his arms, and the next she was falling asleep next to him in his bed, wrapped in his warm embrace. Not only had she tamed the tiger, but she taught him how to love and be loved.

Nothing made him happier than to wake up and see her smiling face first thing in the morning. On the rare occasion he woke before her, he would quietly watch her sleep, not ready to leave the bed without her. They would share breakfast together, a small slice of quiet where he was lover and not King.

He was well aware he was a difficult man to be with – being with the King of Rhodolite required a certain level of dedication that not every partner would be suited for. Not only had she stood by his side through thick and thin, she had gone above and beyond, continually improving herself for her King.

Every morning, before he left for his daily meetings, she was there to see him off. Wait, she often said, pulling him back by his arm, giving him a final once over to make sure he looked his very best and that not even a single hair was out of place. This small gesture always brought a gentle smile to his face, cracking the cold veneer of the Brutal Beast.

Throughout the morning, he would catch glimpses of his love. Often, she was found working with his brothers assisting with any matters she could help with. It wasn’t uncommon that she would pay visits to the faction offices with a treat or tea. Other times, she would attend social events with the princes and visitors to Rhodolite. One could say, her attention was in high demand in and around the palace. His brothers adored her, but none as much as he adored her.

Later in the day, she would come find him in his private library where they would read together. Greeting her always with a kiss, Chevalier would update her on what happened in his morning meetings – if she was to be his future Queen, she needed to know what was going on in their kingdom.

Some days, when she did not come to meet him in the library, she could be found in the palace kitchen baking with Yves. She was always trying out new recipes in hopes of finding a new sweet for her love. Little did she know, Chevalier loved every treat she made, even if he didn’t expressly say those pointless words. Just the fact that she went to all the trouble to try to please him spoke volumes. Anything made by her hand was worth its weight in gold.

In the evenings, they met in his bedroom where they enjoyed a quiet dinner away from the rest of his brothers. After dessert – her idea, she insisted each evening end with a sweet treat, usually made by her own hand – they retreated to the shared bed, where they took turns reading to one another. She had this habit – Chevalier found it annoying at first, but now couldn’t imagine a night without it – where she would pull his head into her lap as she read and card her fingers through his blond locks.

Every night, he’d drift off to sleep with her safe in his arms, her head warm on his chest, dreaming of what their future will bring.

******

It was just a dream, Chevalier told himself as he put his quill down with a sigh. He looked up from his desk, and gazed into the golden eyes of his foolish brother, who had his equally foolish lover perched right next to him.

Chevalier didn’t hear any of the words that came out of his brother’s mouth. How could he, when his heart ached to hear her speak.

“Wait,” she said, causing Chevalier to look up at the pair. She turned to Clavis and straightened his lapels. “There, that’s better.” Her whisper was surely meant only for Clavis, but Chevalier heard it, too.

His chest ached as his eyes flicked to hers, the memory of the dream still warm in his heart. He shut his eyes tightly, there was no point in wasting precious time reliving those thoughts.

It was all his fault. She came to him, asking who she should attend the ball with. He wanted to tell her to take him – but who in their right mind would choose to attend a ball with him? Instead, he suggested Clavis. Clavis, who swooped in and charmed his Belle. It was twist of fate even he could not have predicted – had he had any idea this would happen, he would have told her otherwise. He would have taken her to that ball.

Quit fooling yourself, his mind scolded. Belle would have never fallen for the Brutal Beast. All this worrying, wondering what if was for naught. It was a worthless, pointless waste of his time.

“Chev, I was hoping I could...”

“Do whatever you need to, Clavis.” Staring his younger brother straight in the eye, he stood up gracefully, and headed for the door.

“I wanted to discuss with you that matter concerning the lands...”

“Handle that yourself,” he said, cutting Clavis off. “We are done here.” His gaze crossed hers, only for a moment, but for a moment too long. He quickly averted his eyes, the guilt eating at him, knowing if he looked into her eyes longer that he might want to reach out and touch her.

Instead, he turned and stalked out of his office, his winter white cloak billowing behind him without giving Belle a second glance.

No, he reminded himself. This was all his fault.

Tagging: @alixennial @redheadkittys @atelieredux @rhodolitesrose @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @ikehoe @altairring @lordsisterxotome @lucyw260 @violettduchessuchess

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please send me an ask or a DM.

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen chevalier #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis #ikemen clavis #ikemen fanfic #ikepri fanfic #fanfiction #otome #otome games

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yakumtsaki · 2 years

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Welcome to Generation 4, and no spoilers but what the fuck. For reasons that will become obvious, I have to start this generation with a culminative update on everyone post-college. We begin, as all bad things do, in the main house. Sophito and Eliza have been invited over so we can ask their dumb asses to move in (since we’re over the household limit, fml) but we’ve ran into the problem of them refusing to get out of the hot tub.

-So babe, after we bang in the hot tub do you wanna knock my new teeth implants out? -You know it! -SOPHITO GET OUT ALREADY SO I CAN ASK YOU TO MOVE IN -In a minute, mom, gawd!

-Do you think your mom will like me, Soph? -I can’t see how she wouldn’t after watching us have sex in her hot tub!

-Great job knocking my son’s teeth out, Eliza! -Thank you, Mrs. Miguel! -Please, call me Mom!

LOL ya I had a feeling you two violent lunatics would hit it off.

In case you were wondering, Shajar remains THE WORST. Cyneswith is more excited to see Sophito again than his own mother is.

-Welcome home, son! You made your mama proud with all that hoeing, huhu!🌸

-CYN, ARE YOU AWARE THAT SOMEONE IS MAKING OUT IN OUR HOUSE THAT ISN’T YOU AND iVAN?!? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL???

Ah, it’s like we never left!

Jojo is unironically 106yo so it’s wedding time, no time to draw this out at all.

-This wedding looks like garbage >:(

Excuse me?? I even got you those Celebration balloon chairs, I normally get the cheap garden ones and call it a day. If I even bother getting chairs at all, that is!

-I don’t care!!! I want my dream wedding!!!

Ya, best we can do around here is your dream divorce.

-Oh Sophito, standing here with you, in front of our families who don’t give a fuck and June in a wedding dress, brings up so many emotions.. Mainly the urge to scream hysterically.. -It’s gonna be ok babe, just stay calm. Focus on me and the fact I managed to not pop the collar on my wedding suit!

Awww, congrats guys!

-What the fuck is your mother wearing?

LOL sorry I forgot to change her formalwear!

-It’s still better than June’s.

I SAID I’M SORRY

Despite some small sartorial problems, this is actually one of the better weddings we’ve ever thrown? There’s smustling..

..brotherly reunions..

..more brotherly reunions..

..and a zombie vs robot deathmatch! I don’t know what more Liz wanted, tbh.

A great wedding, if I say so myself!

-It was not.

Whatever! Time to move on!

Daniel reunites with his bebes and meets their intendeds, who have moved in next door!

-Blue Meatballs, what a throwback! Going from my brother to my daughter.. Wow, I REALLY don’t know how I feel about that.

Let me help, you feel happy!

-Do I though?

Yes, because June is happy, God help us.

-Ok then!

June’s little sisters idolizing her is SO CUTE I CANNOT..

..it also makes perfect sense as Cleo and Cecilia are the biggest fucking nerds I’ve ever played, I think I’m legit gonna go in a Curious Bros direction with them.

We leave Daniel in perpetual happiness with Tara and his human and cat bebes-

-and move to Asshole Manor! Ok you two, take a break.

-What? But that’s only the 8th time we’ve banged today!

IT CAN WAIT.

-It really can’t, we’re 90yo!

Ya exactly, so the time has come..

..to reconnect, and in Gunther’s case, MEET your kids. Reginald stop thinking about crypto FOR 1 SECOND GOOD LORD

It quickly becomes apparent that we’re dealing with a level of estrangement that a few visits aren’t gonna fix, so it’s time for Gun and Mel to take their kids on a vacation! Isn’t this exciting, kids?

-Fuck our lives💜 -I’m a woman of science but I kept praying for our plane to crash. -It’s only 3 days, guys, how bad can it be? -Our rooms have no computers, Reginald. -That’s not a thing, then people wouldn’t be able give financial advice on the internet! -Ya, they are not. -YOU’RE LYING. GET AWAY FROM ME

-Listen son, this isn’t easy for me to say.. -It’s ok, dad, I think I know what you’re thinking. -Then would you please get out so I can bang Melody in this sauna?

-Let’s go, kiddos, this is gonna be fun! -Uh, mom, where’s the pilot?💜 -I’m the pilot! -Since when?? -Since this very morning when I took a class! I’ve topped 7 careers, how hard can this be?

-I am relaxed.. I do not need to give financial advice on the internet..

-I am centered.. I do not need to give financial advice on the internet..

-I am floating.. I do not need to give financial advice on the internet.. -Hey kid, any suggestions on what to order around here? -You mean.. ADVICE on how to ALLOCATE your meal BUDGET?!?

How’s it going, JuJu?

-Having a lot of fun eating soup with chopsticks💜 -Can we go home already? I’m losing career momentum, at this rate I won’t be Chief of Staff by age 23!

Fine, fine, we’ve made some valuable bonding progress already:

-Aaaaah, isn’t this great? -It sure is, mom!💜 -How many ‘get promoted’ wants do I need to roll before you take a hint? -You know, June, you get your workaholism from me! -Oh ok then, that definitely makes up for being a teen girl growing up without a mother!

OOF, ok this will take some time, let’s check out.

We return home and June straight tops the medical career-

-AT THIS AGE. I CANNOT. You know what will make this day even better??

HUHU💙🧆

We’re officially Blueballed! Man, that doesn’t sound right. Look at Melody in her matching teal dress, supportive queen!

-It seems like yesterday I was trying to break Lakshmi and Gunther up, and now here she is, marrying my daughter!

Ok, legit let’s not think too hard about this because it’s very upsetting. Julian and Stacy I’ve decided I will not marry since they don’t want to and they’re married in their 💜s anyway. Next household..

..and I’m gonna let this picture speak for itself. I found out something genuinely shocking: BRIT AND HALF-ALIEN PROF ARE BFFS. Like they’ve been friends since BEFORE Trista banged Gunther, in her memory panel she become besties with Brit first?? Wtf.

-We’re gonna be family now, isn’t that exciting, Brit Brit? -OH YA, IT’S EVERY MOTHER’S DREAM: HER SON GROWING UP AND MARRYING HER BEST FRIEND -I know, right? -THIS IS SICK! -You’re on to talk, Castor, he’s probably into older women because of you and Brit! -BRIT WASN’T MY PROFESSOR, TRISTA -I wasn’t Reginald’s professor either, I’m an art prof! So I’m broke to boot! -I’m gonna go lie down. -Ya, right behind you, darling, but I think I’m gonna vomit first! Which is a shame because I just ate some excellent quail’s legs!

Brit is acting up against this marriage like a rebellious teen, soaping her own gaudy fountain.

-That will teach Reginald!

It really won’t!

LOL @ SHOWING UP IN YOUR SWEATPANTS, COME ON BRIT

-I WILL NEVER ACCEPT THIS.

What about now that Reggie gave birth to a beautiful ginger half-alien bb named BRITANNICUS? (I figured Half Alien Prof knocking him up made canon sense, hehe.)

-Ok, I accept this🖤

Good! Time for our final household!

Sugar and Claire! They adopted a bunch of Wulf’s 30 pets and moved into this beautiful house that I of course didn’t build.

Sugar autonomously knocked Claire up the literal second they moved in so we had a shotgun wedding..

..catered by Claire!

-What are these salads you guys are eating?? -Oh uh.. we kinda brought them with us. -WHY -Uhh.. We don’t feel worthy of your food? -AWWWW. That’s true, you’re not!

Sugar actually started the military career at like level 8 thanks to his insane college grades and I was like wtf??

-I got fired :(

Ya, that’s more like it.

Claire is also doing shockingly well, she’s a lvl 9-

-And I’ll be a level 10 once I figure out how ovens work!

-and she gives birth to a beautiful bb whom Sophito attempts to kidnap after showing up uninvited, wtf. Anyway, the bb is a boy and I name him Spice! Now Claire has Sugar, Spice, and everything nice :)

I don’t know what drugs Sophito is clearly on because it appears he came over to legit.. help the new parents? Like he fed Spice and then started cleaning? Very shocking stuff in this family.

Sugar is a really good parent, I don’t know where the fuck he could have possibly learned this but it’s super cute!

AND HE TOPS HIS CAREER AND GETS THIS INSANE BONUS. YAS

I’m so proud of you!!! And boy was that cavalier hat doing a lot of heavy lifting when it came to your face.

Spice grows up and the Don nose claims another generation :(

-Ah, I’m so glad my son is learning this at age 2 and not age 12 like I did :)

Claire is skilling like crazy because let me tell you, she is UNQUALIFIED AS FUCK. Like legit Wyatt-tier when he started as a SWAT Team Leader and was missing half the necessary skill points..

..and it turns out to be a complete time waste because she tops her career by chance card LOL

Congrats, Claire!!!

-I knew I’d make it! Claire’s Frozen Meat Delights™ is going global!

It sure is! Globally banned! What a perfect day, I’m sure nothing will ruin it! Why am I hearing hearts??

Oh right, it’s because SUGAR IS BANGING JESSICA PICASSO WHOM HE BROUGHT OVER FROM WORK

WHAT THE FUCK SUGAR

-I couldn’t help it, we practically have the same face!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU OMG

-My genes!

BRUH. Real talk I legit didn’t know what the fuck to do with this, I haven’t felt as bad as I did for Claire since DANIEL. I think this is very true to life too, like how many hot girls ‘give a chance’ to some fug guy because he was nice/funny/whatever and he ends up cheating?? Fucking hell.

I quickly decide there’s no coming back from this because I even stopped Sugar and then he went back and BANGED JESSICA AGAIN and is full on in love with her:

ONE BOLT. 1 VS 3 WITH CLAIRE. I CANNOT WITH THIS LOSER-

-so I invite Jessica over so Claire can catch them, this is truly BULLSHIT.

Claire loves him so much she’s straight up heartfarting over him WHILE DIVORCING HIM. HE’S THE WORST

And poor Spice goes into aspiration failure because he had a fear of his parents divorcing, amazing! Great job, Sug!

-WAAAAAAAAH I CAN’T BELIEVE HAVING AN AFFAIR RUINED MY FAMILY, THAT’S NOT WHAT I LEARNED GROWING UP

GET OUT OF HERE SUGAR

Poor Claire immediately goes to teach Spice to talk so she can repair his aspiration..

..and beats up Jessica’s dumb ass. She then rolls the want to go on a date and I’m like don’t have to tell me twice:

WILFRED IS BACK LOL. Bro I still cannot fucking BELIEVE this has happened, Sugar was so loyal the entire time, I think once he got married it triggered the Cyn genes?? I have no other explanation for it.

Now the question arises, what the fuck to do with Sugar, because I’m not playing a single Sugar household. So, with a heavy heart:

-It’s ok, bro! -You’re not judging me for destroying my family for no reason whatsoever? :( -Of course not, who am I to judge?

-Sophito’s right, honey, your family, including your dad’s hot ass, will always be here for you with no judgment! Because we have absolutely no room to judge💗

-SUGAR YOU’RE A FUCKING DISGRACE. RUNNING OUT ON YOUR FAMILY LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT, WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU -I DIDN’T RUN, I WAS KICKED OUT! -SHUT YOUR STUPID TRAP. WE HAVE NOWHERE TO PUT YOU SO YOU’RE SLEEPING IN THE CRYPT WITH SANDY. NOW FUCK OUTTA HERE, I HAD TO INTERRUPT MY WOLF-WAITING TO BERATE YOU

Sugar happily heads off to work the next morning along with Sophito but I’m not seeing him getting in the car..

..and it’s because JOJO STOPPED HIM TO DO THAT AUTONOMOUS LECTURE INTERACTION. I CANNOT

-Listen here, you absolute disappointment, as long as I’m head of this family you’re gonna be paying rent to live in my crypt! -Well that won’t be very long, you’re 108! -Sophie is gonna be head after me, so good luck with that! Now fork over that 55k bonus!

-I don’t have that, Claire got it in the divorce! -YOU FUCKING WHAT. SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE -The 20k I moved in with :( -THAT’S AUTOMATIC -I know :( -GET OUT OF MY SIGHT

Welcome home, Sugar!

Same, Sandy, same.

#gen 4 #ts2

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

Text

The Dream - Chapter Ten.

BESTIES! Who wants a double update? It’s here, you’re getting one! I figured I would, since the next two chapters are a little shorter, both coming in at under 3k in the word count. Going forward, I think we’ll do a 40 note unlock for a double update, and a 30 note unlock for a single one. Sounds fair, doesn’t it? Well, I hope you enjoy what I have in store for you here. Looking forward to your thoughts, as ever :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,648

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“He’s still acting strange with you, then?” Angel asked, winding noodles around his fork. They were at the Chinese restaurant Keri had said she wanted to take him to, discussing her current predicament with Aaron.

“Well, kind of,” she began, poking at the pastry on one of the spring rolls before her. “He’ll ask what Rachel, Frankie and I are talking about, and if I say you, then he’ll just close up, or make some remark. He still has you pegged as a scumbag.”

Angel looked entertained by that. “Some people think I am, and if that’s what he wants to believe without ever actually meeting me, then that’s up to him.” He scratched his beard, shrugging. “I ain’t losing sleep over it, neither should you.”

“I’m trying not to, but it irritates me. What you do doesn’t have anything to do with him,” she stated, Angel chewing through his mouthful of food quickly, reaching to cover her hand with his.

“Don’t let it bother you, especially when he’s only looking out for you. You just don’t like it because it probably throws up a little conflict for you too, doesn’t it?”

She felt a little uncomfortable at his presenting of the truth like that, but decided it was best to be honest. “A bit, if I’m real with you.”

“All you gotta know is the following; what I do and who I am are very different things, alright?” He paused then, Keri sipping her iced tea, nodding. “How about the other guy in your group, Ash, is it? Does he think the same?”

“I’ve no idea, since we haven’t seen him for more than a half hour at a time, if that, for the past few weeks. He’s two years above us and currently coming to the end of taking his master's degree in biochemistry, so he’s literally absconded to his room or the study suites at college as he prepares for his finals in April. I doubt he’d take an issue, though. You guys have a common ground, a love for Harley’s,” she explained.

“Oh yeah?” Angel was interested at that. “What does he ride?”

She sat and thought on it, trying to remember, knowing she could only come out with something that was going to make her look utterly ridiculous. “Erm, it’s red. That’s about all I can tell you.”

He laughed softly at that. “You’re too cute.”

“I am as my Instagram bio states, Provo village idiot.”

Her words sparked something in him then, something he’d been meaning to ask for a while. “Speaking of you Insta, I need to know what made you choose the profile name you did. I mean, I know I was boring and just chose my name and birth year, but yeah, kinda curious to know how girl where photo came about?”

Keri was laughing softly before she’d even spoken, remembering the event that had led to it well. “I changed it after something funny that happened about a year ago. We have these students who came over from Thailand at our college, doing some long-term exchange programme through their church, and they’re the sweetest kids but back then, their English was still a little bit basic at best.

“So, one of them, Trinh, his name is, asked me if I could take some photographs of him to send to his family back home of him up in the mountains where the scenery is so breathtaking, so I agreed. Anyway, I said I’d print the ones he’d chosen, but between our busyness with studies, it took me a while to get them done, and he was obviously quite excited about seeing them, so ran up one morning in the hall and shouted, ‘girl where photo?’ at me. It sounds like he was being rude, but he was just so excited, and he couldn’t remember my name either, so yeah, that explains it. Frankie couldn’t breathe! Every time he sees me now, he yells it at me. It’s our thing.”

He laughed, resting his fork down when he’d finished, Keri taking another bite out of one of the spring rolls before her. “So, tell me how the love of photography started, then. You know, out of all the things we’ve talked about so far, I don't think I ever asked that."

Sitting there listening to her explain how she’d first come to love taking pictures with her grandmother’s old wind on camera when she was four, excitedly visiting the local one-hour photo place with her to get them developed, Angel smiled widely all the way through. He couldn’t help but note that he’d never felt so comfortable with someone in such a short space of time, the way they'd fallen into easy conversation, like two old friends becoming reacquainted after a period of separation.

How he felt when he was with her in his sleep was definitely mirrored by the reality of such, Keri seeming to settle well despite – as he could tell clearly – being quite nervous earlier as they’d left the airport. She’d almost crashed into a concrete post on her way out of the car park.

As for Keri, if only Angel knew how well she was hiding the fact that inside, all she could hear were panicked honking noises. Supressing her nerves was a battle she was mostly winning, but boy, she was working her ass off to keep it all hidden. Yes, she felt comfortable with him, and he was just a nice as he’d seemed thus far, but she still couldn’t believe he was sitting across the table from her.

This man, this completely irresistibly gorgeous man, a man she would have considered out of her league, was sitting there looking like he was honestly enjoying getting to know her. Her inner self? Anxious. She revealed those thoughts too after they’d left the restaurant, Keri stopping in at Frankie and Jaime’s apartment so she could leave her car behind and Angel could drop his bag inside, taking an Uber down to The Lounge.

“So, how’s it going?” Frankie asked, Keri greeting them both with a kiss while Angel went to the bar.

“Help! He’s too hot for me, I’m out of my depth and only just holding it together to act like a normal person and not spiral into one long calamity Joe parody of myself!” she hissed, seating herself on the opposite couch, a narrow table dividing them.

“Love, you need to cease with these thoughts,” Jaime began, reaching to squeeze her wrist. “You have no idea how much of a knockout you are, do you?” Here they were, Keri’s usual nerves and self-doubt when it came to men, especially in that moment, walking in with a very attractive one, the kind of guy that looks wise, she should have always aimed for, rather than selling herself short because she didn’t believe she could do better.

Keri waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head. “Stop, I am not!” Just then, Angel arrived back with them, placing down a pitcher of margaritas before a surprised looking Frankie and Jaime, and the same with beer for him and Keri, plus two glasses he pulled from his back pockets. He indicated he’d be back, returning with exactly the same order again.

“You trying to get us wasted there?” Frankie asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Ah, shit. She sussed me,” he laughed, before pointing back at the bar. “Your local ice hockey team just walked in, so I double ordered everything. Ain’t nobody getting close to that bar between the big dudes and all the hockey groupies down there.”

“I believe the term is puck bunny,” Jaime spoke, pouring out a fresh drink for her and Frankie. “And you say that like you’re not a big dude when really, you’re what? Six three?”

“Yeah, about that,” he confirmed, passing a beer to Keri. “I feel like a damned giant compared to this one.”

“Everyone is a giant compared to me and my five four tininess.” she laughed, cringing a little. Their conversation moved on, the girls all getting to know Angel a little better, laughing hard at stories of his youth, some of the antics he found himself involved in, the kind of life he’d had so very different from theirs. He enjoyed it, too, in turn hearing about them, learning of their lives, yet there was only one person he craved alone time with in order to do more of the same.

“What?” he questioned hours later when they’d returned to the apartment, Keri grinning to herself beside him, both all bundled in a comforter and blankets to ward out the chilly February cold. When the heat went off in the apartment, the temperature dropped quickly, and boy, you felt it.

“Nothing,” she spoke softly, shaking her head. “I'm just having a 'holy shit he's right there' moment again. It's good, but still weird.”

He could identify with such. “Same. I can't believe I'm here either.” His smile reached his gorgeous, dark eyes, reaching to squeeze her shoulder. “So, tell me things about you that I don’t already know, then.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, and it made his pulse skip. She was even lovelier than her pictures or presence in his dreams had alluded to. “Gosh!” she began, combing her hair away from her face with her fingers. “I don’t even know where to start!”

“Alright, I’ll ask, you tell?” he suggested, Keri nodding.

“Okie dokie, and you answer too!” And so, they began.

“What’s something you have more knowledge about more than anybody else you know?” Oh, that was an interesting choice. Thinking on it, he didn’t seem the type who’d be interested in run of the mill, getting to know you small talk. And as she replied about her love and knowledge of Nikon cameras, with Angel asking interesting specifics, she truly saw that he was much smarter than he appeared in how he articulated himself.

His wasn’t academically smart, but she enjoyed how direct he was, how original the questions were that he asked of her, and how perceptive he appeared to be. Therefore, she matched him, knowing that he wouldn’t be the type to be pacified by asking what his favourite movie or colour was. In truth, neither was she.

“If you could sit and spend an evening talking to anyone from history, alive or dead, who would it be?”

He beamed. “Yo, that’s a fuckin’ great question.” He took a pause, considering his options. The fantasy woman of his early teens, model Helena Christensen immediately popped into his head, but it would be gauche to reply with a beautiful woman, and he could do much better than that. “Che Guevara. I admire those who don’t play by the rules in order to achieve a better balance where power is concerned. Rebellion and revolution, people who stand up against oppression, I think it’s brave and bold, amazing even, the ripple effect that one person and their ideas can cause. How about you?”

Her reply was immediate. “Annie Leibovitz. The way she captures so much personality of her subjects in her photography, making the images so deeply personal, almost like they’re just a moment captured in a sequence of motion. Her images might be still, but they move. They have vibrance, some of her works even remind me of Renaissance paintings. She’s truly masterful.”

“I guess there’s a lot more to photography than there appears at first glance, right? It ain’t just about pointing a camera at your subject and clicking. I think it’s a really interesting art form, although I know very little about it. What’s your favourite picture you’ve ever taken?”

Immediately, she reached for her phone. “This one got taken off of my Instagram, even though I censored the boobies, but here.” Clicking on the image, it enlarged, Keri turning her phone to show Angel the photograph of Frankie, naked but a Pride flag wrapped around her waist, one hand holding herself up as she swung from the overhead bars of the black iron fire escape outside of the apartment, the other hand raising her middle finger, a cigarette hanging from the corner of her glossed pout. “It’s just her, unapologetically her. I captured the entire essence of Frances Scarvo in one picture, which was my aim.”

Angel studied it, loving the details, the light, the way the shadows fell over her lithe muscles, the shaft of sunlight shining down onto the tall building glinting the defiance in her eyes. “I fucking love it, you’re right, the way you’ve captured so much of her in it. I mean, I don’t even know her, but what I’ve noticed in her, her total confidence and pride in being an out lesbian, her humour and her strength, it’s all here. It’s unapologetic, just like you said. You should print this for her and frame it.”

“Already did,” she revealed. “It’s hanging in the bedroom, next to one I took of Jamie in a bubble bath. One I ended up slipping on the edge of the tub and falling into with her fully clothed. I just about had chance to throw my camera at Frankie and save it, rather than save myself.”

He laughed softly, imagining it. “Calamity Joe strikes again, huh?”

“Don’t you start calling me that, too!” The laughter they shared was so natural and easy, Angel loving that she didn’t take herself too seriously, her slight clumsiness a source of her own amusement just as much as it was everyone else’s.

He reached for her, thumb skimming her cheek, the gesture small, but big enough to make her heart flutter. “It’s good to see you relax a little at last. I’ve noticed it, how hard you’ve been working to not let your nerves get the better of you.

Shit. And she thought she’d fooled him. Angel Reyes, it seemed, was even more perceptive than she’d realised. “I want to be like I am with you in our dreams,” she began, Angel raising an eyebrow in a manner that bordered on lascivious. “Not like that!” she admonished playfully, slapping his chest with the back of her hand. “Well, not yet, anyway. You get what I mean, though.”

At the suggestion of those connotations manifesting in reality, he felt a little flicker of arousal stir within his depths. He couldn’t help it, the attraction he felt only strengthening in reality. “I do, I understand.” He’d keep it in check, though, for her comfort. “Okay, I thought of something else. If you could visit any period of time in history, when would you choose and why?”

“One of the prehistoric ages, so I could witness dinosaurs, the cretaceous period in particular. As long as in this hypothesis I could be somewhere safe, I’d love to sit and view them, the triceratops, the velociraptors, the tyrannosaurs rex. Can you imagine how incredible that would be? I have so much awe about them. There’ve been quite a few remains found in Moab, so I like to visit whenever I have time, go and see the skeletons in the museum there. I never get bored. How about you?”

All the way through her explanation, she’d noticed his smile widening, his reply confirming what she was beginning to think. “Exactly the same. All that shit is fascinating. You gotta take me to that museum! I’ve never been to see the bones in person before, but looking at pictures, the scale ones that show just how huge they were, it’s mind-blowing, trying to imagine something that big ever walking the earth.”

Finding something they were both geeks over kept them talking for a long time before their conversation eventually moved on, 2am rolling around, and neither feeling even remotely tired. Even if they were, they wouldn’t have been prepared to have called time on something they were enjoying so much.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes smut #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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subobi · 7 months

Text

SubObi Week #7 - Prompts

Send in your prompts for SubObi Week #7! Please send them to the askbox.

Try not to send repeats of the previously used prompts listed here.

Please be aware that we are not voting yet. A poll will be made in a few days once everyone has had a chance to send in their suggestions

Unused prompt suggestions always roll over to the next year's voting

Prompts do not need to be kinks or specifically NSFW. Things like AU prompts are also fun

All prompts will be accepted as long as they are open suggestions that can be applied to any pairing and have Obi-Wan being submissive in some way (both sexual and non)

Current suggestions (kept updated) under the cut.

A Most Dangerous Game

Age play/Infantilism/Forced Infantilism

Biting/Marking

Blowjobs

Body modification (piercing, tattooing, branding, etc)

Body Worship

Bondage/Restraints/Spreader bars

Boot Worship/Boot blacking

Breath play

Cannibalism/Vore/Blood Play

Caught on tape

Chastity

Clothed Sex

Cock slapping

Dacryphilia

Dirty talk

Docking

Domestic kink/Domestic service

Dry humping/Thigh riding

Dubious consent

Edging

Exhibitionism

Facials/bukkake

Fairy tale

Figging/Nettles

First contact

Fisting

Force bond

Force suppression cuffs/Collar

Forced feminization

Genderqueer/Transgender

Gimp suit/Latex

Glory hole

Groundhog day/Time loop

Hades & Persephone AU

Hair pulling/Long hair

Hereditary guilt: paying for the sins of your ancestors/kin/people.

Human sacrifice

Inviting a third/more for some fun

Kidnapping/Hostage Situations

Knife Play

Lingerie/Jewelry/Obi in the Leia slave outfit

Mafia AU

Masochism/Sadism

Masturbation/Mutual Masturbation

Medical kink

Mindbreak/Altered mental state

Mirror Verse (them meet the dark versions of themselves)

Never-a-Jedi AU

Nipple play/Orgasming from nipple stimulation/Breast play

Obsession/Yandere

Omorashi/Watersports

Partner swap

Pet play

Photography/Videotaping

Pirates AU

Porno AU

Post-orgasm torture

Power imbalance/Power dynamics

Prison AU

Professor/University AU

Punishment/Funishment

Rimming

Roleplay

Safeword used and/or safeword ignored

Sensory deprivation

Sex pollen/Aphrodisiac

Sex work/Stripping

Shaving/Depilation

Soft cock/Small cock

Soulmates AU

Stuck in a wall

Sybian

Teasing

Telepathy/Sharing thoughts or feelings

Training

Virgin Obi-Wan

Voyeurism

Wet dream/Dream sex

Whipping

#subobi week

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minervadashwood · 2 years

Text

Scars and Stitches, Chapter 21: Alone Together Daryl X PlusSize!Reader (she/her)

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Series Masterlist | Daryl x Reader Masterlist

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Chapter Summary: Frustrated with the Shane situation, Daryl takes you away from the farm. Word Count: 3,700 Chapter Warnings: : Injuries, scars, smut.

Notes: Please keep in mind that this story is only one interpretation of demisexuality, and it shouldn’t stand-in as representative of the entire community. This is just what felt true to these two characters.

Thanks for being patient with the weekly update timeframe. I hope the wait was worth it for this chapter.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others. Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well.” ― Elizabeth Hoyt

Daryl took Rick’s words to heart, and that night you and Daryl packed enough clothing and supplies to last a few days. Then, after everyone else was asleep, the two of you sneaked off to the hunting camp. Only Carol knew that you’d be gone, and she was sworn to secrecy until noon the next day.

All the better to keep Shane from following you, Daryl said.

You knew you would miss the people in your group, especially Carol and Sophia, but both you and Daryl would be safer away from the farm for a few days. If Rick didn’t make Shane leave, the time would at least let the waters settle, so to speak.

Once you made it to the camp, you and Daryl stacked some of the empty beer cans against the door and along the windowsills, ensuring that if any unwelcome visitors—living or dead—would not be able to sneak in.

When Daryl deemed the place safe enough, you finally breathed easy for the first time since that morning. In the kitchen, you pulled Daryl in for a hug. When you squeezed your arms around him, he winced.

You let go immediately. “You’re really hurt, aren’t you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“’s nothin’,” he shrugged, and tried pulling you back into his arms.

You resisted. “Take off your shirt and let me get a look.”

“”m alright,” he grumbled.

You put a hand on his chest. “Daryl, what you did today—protecting me, defending me—you didn’t think about yourself for a second.” You sniffed, suddenly realizing how much danger he’d put himself in, just for you. “The least I can do is make sure you’re alright. Please let me.”

He stared at his feet. “I didn’t protect ya. I was too late.”

You reached up your hands, nudging his vest from his shoulders and pulling it off him. “You taught me just what to do and made me confident enough to do it. I didn’t think he’d come after me. I was too trusting.”

Daryl’s hair fell over his brow. “I shouldn’t’ve left you alone over there. Shoulda waited for ya.”

You shook your head and began unbuttoning his flannel shirt. “Please don’t blame yourself. I don’t.” You sighed and urged Daryl out of his shirt. He complied. “Tank top, too, please?”

He rolled his eyes but did as you asked.

“The real person at fault is Shane,” you said. “We can only hope Rick makes him leave.”

You ducked your head to begin your examination. Seeing Daryl shirtless still made you breathless, despite all the times it had happened. His torso was almost the story of his life. Muscles shaped by hard work and survival, not by hours in the gym chasing a dream body. They were suited to all his hard-earned skills. From the large, solid muscles of his arms to his wide shoulders and chest, they all spoke of a life hard lived and well earned. His scars and bruises, too, were part of his journey: his hunting accident, his childhood, his fight with Shane.

Both of his obliques were slightly bruised. As gently as you could, you prodded at them, checking for internal damage. Thankfully, there wasn’t any. From your pack, you retrieved some pain releiving ointment, and with gentle fingers, spread it on the bruises.

As you worked, Daryl rested a hand on your shoulder, as if he just needed to touch you while you were touching him.

“Let me check your back,” you said softly. His hand ghosted down your arm as he turned, and he hid his face from you.

A small bruise was blooming on his rib cage.

“I have to make sure your ribs aren’t broken. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but it may hurt.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgment, and you began tracing his ribs individually, searching for an anomolies. He gasped when your fingers grazed the bruise, but despite the obvious pain, that rib was not broken, as far as you could tell. You applied more ointment to the bruise, then ran a soothing hand over the rest of his back.

Your fingers faltered on the angry “X” scar spanning the space between his shoulder blades, and you found yourself drawn to it. You placed a hand on his hip and leaned close, giving the center of the X a soft kiss.

To your surprise, Daryl did not pull away. In fact, he sighed and relaxed beneath your mouth and fingers. Encouraged, you trailed kisses along the faded slashes, whispering to his skin. “I’m glad you got away from him, Daryl. So proud of you for making it out of there alive. For becoming the man you are, despite all of this.”

Daryl slowly turned, his hands reaching for you. His cheeks were red, his eyes puffy. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your cheekbones as the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.

He trailed his hands from your face to your shoulders and along your arms. Then, they dipped beneath your shirt, rough fingertips skirting along your waistline.

"I wanna see ya. That alright?" he asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

You nodded.

Daryl’s fingers brushed along your sides as he pulled up your t-shirt, slowly baring yourself to him. He held your eyes for a moment before raking his gaze up and down the length of your torso.

He looked at you almost reverently, his gaze flitting from your body to your eyes."You're so pretty," he breathed.

His fingers began to trace along your stretch marks, his calousses and gentle touch sending sparks of warmth through you, awakening your desire that always arose around him these days. You were content to let him take his time, to let his hands and eyes explore you.

At one point he paused, his fingers happening upon a few raised scars on the side of your stomach. He knelt to look at them, raising his eyes to yours. His brow furrowed in question, almost sad.

"My mom," you whispered. “A broken lamp. I was ten.” Your scars were nothing like his, but their presence seemed to trouble Daryl intensely. He traced them again and again, and eventually he leaned forward and kissed them, his lips lingering on your skin.

His mouth was warm and soothing, replacing the traumatic memory with a new, joyful one. Your throat constricted as you willed yourself not to cry. Neither of you needed to voice your depth of understanding of what your childhoods had been like. You both knew and understood, without words.

He continued kissing his way up your oblique, skipping over the skin covered by your bra, and standing as he kissed just above your breasts, trailing a path to your shoulder, then back, to your chin, and finally to your lips. He kissed you soft and gentle, then rested his forehead on yours, and ran his hands up and down your bare arms. Then he ghosted them along your lower back.

"Sometimes I can't believe that you want me," you whispered, voicing the doubt that Daryl would want someone like you, someone who was still in need of protection.

He gave you the barest smile, gently tightening his hands on the soft flesh of your back. "I'll always want ya, no matter what. You're mine."

One of his hands glided up to the base of your head, cradling it, then tilting it so your neck was accessible. He found the sensitive spot near your earlobe, and kissed and sucked, like he did that first time in the woods. Just as before, it set your body aflame, heat and longing coursing through you, your physical desire for him echoing the emotional need in your heart.

You thought of all the ways Daryl showed his love, from trusting you the day you’d met, to saving you on the road, to taking care of your every need, to trusting you with his heart.

"D-Daryl," you whispered, almost breathless because of how much you wanted him, how much you needed him. “D-do you want to keep going?”

You had no doubt you wanted to share this with him. To make love to the man who’d sacrificed himself, again and again, just to keep you safe. To show Daryl how much you cared for him, how important he was to you.

He kept kissing your neck and murmured, "Ya sure?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I'm sure."

He hitched up one of your legs, so your knee was next to his hip, and just before you lost your balance, he lifted you so that your legs wrapped around his waist, his arms supporting you against him. Then, he carried you to the closest bedroom and lay you down on the bed. The rusty springs groaned, and the loud noise forced a laugh from you. Daryl watched you intently, with a crooked smile.

"Be right back, Darlin'."

He left the room before quickly returning, a few wrapped condoms in his hand.

You looked at him with mock indignation. "Did you plan on seducing me, Daryl Dixon?"

He blushed as he put the packets on the table next to the bed. "Just wanted to keep you safe, is all. Got you them after pills, too, just in case."

You smiled faintly and reached for him. "You take such good care of me, Daryl. In so many ways."

He shrugged, his ever-lengthening hair almost concealing his eyes. He lay down beside you and placed his hand on your large, round belly.

You brushed the hair from his face and cupped his cheek, "Are you okay? There's no pressure if you're not. Or we can wait until you’ve healed up a bit.”

“I told’ya I’m fine.” He leaned into your touch, kissed your palm, then pulled you fully against him. His mouth slammed on yours, hot and insistent. Your tongues danced while at the same time his strong arm grabbed your hip, holding you flush against him. Your legs tangled, and you started reaching for any part of him you could touch, his hip, his back, his shoulders, his hair—always careful to avoid his bruises.

Eventually, Daryl began fumbling at the clasp on your bra, and you chuckled when his lustful eyes grew frustrated.

“Allow me,” you teased, sitting up and unhooking the clasp, and slowly letting it fall off your shoulders.

Daryl grabbed at it, almost ripping it away from you before tossing it behind him, and then he immediately buried his head just above your breasts, and urged you lay down again.

He began kissing his way from your breastbone to one breast while fondling the other. You mewled and sighed. Then his mouth found your nipple. First he kissed it, then gently laved it with his tongue. The more you reacted, the fiercer he became, licking and sucking and nipping at your sensitive bud.

“Oh, oh honey….” You breathed, so overwhelmed, your insides pulsing in time with his mouth.

He pulled his mouth away and gazed at you with a feral grin. “You like that, darlin’?”

You nodded energetically. “Very, very much.”

He began the process with the other breast, allowing his other hand to resume teasing your already taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hips began moving, almost involuntarily, his hand and mouth sending pulses straight to your clit and your cunt.

You tried to slip your hand into your waistband, but Daryl stopped and stared down at you.

“Ya want me down there?” he asked.

“I-if you want.”

He gave you a crooked smile, then he helped you remove your pants and underwear, dragging them slowly off you, his eyes raking over you as he went.

Then he stared at you, biting his bottom lip, his bare chest rising and falling as he gazed at you, entirely naked and at his mercy.

“D-daryl?”

He swept his bangs from his forehead and met your gaze.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

He nodded, blinking furiously. “Everythin’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You reached for him, and he complied, once more lying next to you. He trailed his hand down the front of your belly, making soothing, comforting motions as he got closer to the throbbing between your legs.

“Show me how to touch you,” he whispered, giving you an earth-shattering kiss before arranging himself so he could clearly see your pussy.

With slightly trembling fingers, you showed him just how to touch you, how to be gentle, how to coax you toward bliss. He mimicked you perfectly: starting with slow circles around your clit and gradually increasing his movements, making you moan and grasp for him. You held onto his shoulder as he worked you with his hand.

“I’m so close, baby,” you breathed, “Just like that.” Daryl clenched his jaw and kept working you perfectly. Your orgasm built and built, until it exploded inside you. You mroaned through it, urging Daryl’s lips back to your mouth, so you could kiss him and thread your fingers in his hair, so you could show him how good of a job he did.

“Oh, angel,” he said into your mouth. “I’m so ready for you.”

You came down from your high, gazing up at him. “Almost, baby, almost.”

Again, you showed him what to do, how to open you up by guiding one of his fingers into your core.

He worked you, slowly and gently, first with a single digit, then two. You couldn’t help grinding against his hand, feeling yourself opening to him, the spot deep inside of you craving much more than his fingers.

“I want to see you, all of you,” you told him.

Daryl didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, he was staring at his fingers as they disappeared inside of you, again and again. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes darkened with more lust than you’d ever seen.

Jealous that he could see you, but you couldn’t see him, you sat up and began undoing his belt.

Immediately, Daryl shook himself from his stupor and helped you until his belt was unbuckled and his button and zipper were open. Then he furiously shoved the clothes off, revealing himself entirely to you.

He was larger than you expected, making you gulp with excitement and expectation. You reached for one of the condoms and handed it to him, hoping that he knew how best to use it.

He took the packet from you, opening it with his teeth, and then saying, “You sure?”

You nodded, entirely certain, and watched as Daryl rolled the condom onto his impressive length.

Impulsively, you ran a hand along your folds, picking up some of your slick, then you hovered just above his cock, meeting his eyes and raising your eyebrows in question.

He nodded hurriedly.

Tentatively, you rubbed your wetness on him, experimentally stroking your hand up and down his length. He shuddered in your hand, and then Daryl was gently pushing your shoulders back onto the bed, forcing you to lay down as he settled between your legs.

He braced himself with one palm on the bed next to your hip, his other hand around the base of his cock. He ran his tip between your folds, and then placed it at your entrance. His eyes found yours, and you gave him an encouraging nod, smoothing one hand along the muscles of his arm.

He pushed in gently, making your eyes roll back and your eyelids close at the sensation.

When you opened your eyes, Daryl was watching you worriedly. “Did I hurt ya?”

“No, baby,” you assured him, placing your hand over his. “I’m fine. I’m great. You feel real good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Promise.”

You felt yourself adjusting around him, and you ached for him to go deeper. “More? Please?”

He nodded, and his hair fell over his eyes. Then, with amazing control he pushed in deeper, slowly filling you completely until his entire length was buried in you.

“Fuuuuuck” he breathed, slowly closing his eyes then staring down where the two of you were joined.

He lowered himself onto one elbow, his heavy weight and solid frame settling on top of you. With his free hand, he smoothed his hand along your temple, holding your gaze. In his eyes you saw the love that you felt, the emotion so strong that to speak it aloud would be entirely inadequate.

Tears of happiness slipped from your eyes, and Daryl immediately kissed them away. When he pulled back just enough so you could see him again, he had a couple tears of his own.

He slammed his mouth on yours and began thrusting his hips slowly. His cock moved inside of you, and you’d never felt closer to anyone, in both body and soul, and as Daryl’s hips rocked into you, you let go, trusting him fully.

Following your whispered directions, Daryl began working at a pace and angle that had you seeing stars, his cock again and again hitting that sweet spot inside of you. Soon his now-expert fingers went to work on your clit, touching you just the way you needed him to.

Your orgasm built, your whole body pulsing to its crescendo. “So…close…” you whispered, and after one more stroke, your world burst into a million stars, the sweet release rolling through you, intense and unforgettable.

Daryl buried his head in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing hitting your skin. He pumped into you furiously, his thrusts becoming erratic, uncontrolled. Then with a hoarse groan, he came inside you. You held on to him with all you were, dragging his mouth to yours, kissing him, holding him close, not wanting to break the spell your shared intimacy had created.

He pulled out of you, his breathing still labored, and he tossed the condom on the floor before laying next to you, pulling you to him and kissing you again and again.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” he murmred, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re so beautiful, so wonderful. Thought I couldn’t want ya more than I already did, but I was wrong. I jus’ want ya so much.”

“You have me,” you told him, carding your fingers through his hair. In another life, before this, you would never have thought that you would willingly belong to someone else. But here, in Daryl’s arms, belonging to him felt right. It felt inevitable.

You held his gaze, traling your fingers through his hair, kissing him gently. He returned your kiss, but then he tucked your head under his chin and roamed his fingers along your back and hips. Once in a while he caressed the soft flesh of your hindquarters.

After a while, you fell asleep in his arms.

Daryl was awake before dawn, and as morning light began to shine through the window, he watched you sleeping next to him.

He allowed himself to run his fingertips along the side of your face, then grazed them down the length of your body, then the length of your arm, until he lightly held your wrist. Filled with guilt he took in the light bruise on your forearm. It was nothing like what Shane had done that first time, but Daryl still wished your injury on himself, wished he’d been calmer about the walkers, wished he’d followed your lead for once.

You stirred in your sleep, rolling over and facing away from him with a quiet mumble. Daryl wrapped himself around you, kissing your neck and shoulder, wishing he could keep you safe in his arms and never let go.

Love was a foreign notion to him. No one had ever loved him, not really. And he wasn’t even sure if he’d loved anyone before. Did he love Merle? Maybe he did, but it was more from habit, from isolation, than genuine affection. Sure, Merle had been the only one to ever take care of him, but that concern had vanished long ago. Daryl knew—with certainty—Merle didn’t care about him. At least not anymore.

But what Daryl felt for you had to be something like love, right? He missed you when you weren’t right next to him. His world seemed to revolve around making you smile, keeping you fed and safe, showering you with kisses whenever he could.

Daryl supposed he could tell you how much he loved your eyes, your body, your voice. Or even how he loved it when you fussed over him, when you saw to all his scrapes and bruises or forced him to eat and rest.

He ran his nose along your back, breathing you in and trying to absorb you into himself.

Still, he was uncertain. Was he even capable of love? You surely deserved someone better than him. Someone who could say with conviction that they loved you.

Tears sprang to his eyes. He pressed his forehead against your back and tightened his arms around you. Even if you did deserve better, Daryl was selfish. He wanted you all to himself, for as long as you allowed him to have you.

Again, you stirred, and he loosened his hold on you. You turned in his arms.

“Good morning,” you sighed, blinking sleep away from your eyes.

Daryl could only watch you, chewing on the inside of his lip.

A second later you were sitting up and cupping his cheeks. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Your question only made him want to hide, so he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder, trying to get himself under control.

You skimmed your gentle fingers along his back, and then he hugged you close, finally stopping his tears and just letting you hold him.

After a while, you urged him to look at you, and he did.

“We don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here for you. No matter what. Nothing you do could make me push you away. You know that, right?”

He wanted to believe you, so very much. He nodded and kissed you. He’d trusted you with so much already. His scars, his fears, his insecurities, even some of his past. So, despite his doubts, he decided to trust you with this, too.

Next Chapter

If you enjoyed this story, let me know by replying or reblogging! It seriously helps the writing process.

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Tag list: @green-eyedladywrites @haleypearce @phoenixblack89 @takeabreathdeath @livingdeadblondequeen

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. ==========

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #twd #twd fanfic #plus size #plus size reader #plus size fanfic #mdop #minerva writes #dd/xm #scars and stitches

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gooddaysmeanwritingdays · 1 year

Text

My Masterlist

Spotify || AO3 || Original Writing || Main Blog

Hey! I'm Courtney and welcome to this slowly updated blog!

About me: I write every day but get halfway through a fic, get bored and start another. Hence the slow updates. I write fanfictions mostly, but I also write the occassional Hero x Villain snippets. I procrastinate everything, and I have ADHD (I got the diagnosis!).

I'm aromantic asexual, so this is a smut-free blog -> just a shit ton of fluff and angst. This is also a safe space so hate or any other assholery will absolutely not be tolerated.

Also, this is a sideblog, so when I do respond to comments, it'll be from my main blog @whovian378.

Moon Knight

SERIES

Falling For Them (Moon Knight System x gn!reader)

Oneshots of your life with Steven, Marc and Jake (how you met, when you fell in love and all the moments of your lives together.) Feel free to listen to the playlist I created for this series while you read.

Bad Days You had a bad day and your darlings take care of you.

He's Got the Whole World In His Hands It's your anniversary, and your darling Marc tells you a secret.

Lost in Love (and in a maze) You and Jake are out on a date for your anniversary in a corn maze of all places, and you get lost. Jake of course takes advantage of the alone time (keeping it mostly PG of course)

Forever Sounds Perfect You and your darlings go to a wedding, and suddenly all that happiness is exactly what you want for your future with them. In that happiness, you can't help but...pop the question.

Hopelessly in Love with You Even after all these decades you’re still head over heels in love with your husbands. And sometimes you can’t help but say it out loud.

ONESHOTS

Tell Me You'll Stay (Layla x gn!reader) Layla has to go to work. You want her to come back to bed. So, you use all your charm to convince her to stay.

Daredevil

ONESHOTS

I have ADHD (Matt Murdock x gn!reader) You're late to an ADHD consultation appointment and you're terrifying the shit out of your boyfriend Matt by driving like a maniac.

"You Love Me?" "I Always Have?" (Matt Murdock x gn!reader) You’re the lead detective on the team hunting down the vigilante known as Daredevil. You have no leads, until your boyfriend stumbles through your front door, half dead, and wearing that damn suit.

Beautiful Woman Part 1 (Matt Murdock x fem!reader) [a little spicy, but mostly fade to black] Yesterday the jury found you innocent of murder. Last night you went out for celebratory drinks with your lawyers. Last night...you and Matt succumbed to the lust that's been driving you both insane. Now it's the next morning. And no, it wasn't a dream. You’re in Matt’s bed, and he can’t get enough of you. Even after last night, he can’t keep his hands off you. But he also has to go to work, and you definitely don’t want that. So you do everything you can to convince him to stay.

Sandman

ONESHOTS

A Smile Like Yours is a Rare Delight (Morpheus x gn!reader) Your husband's smile drives you crazy, and he loves that

SERIES

Come Find Me, Dream Boy (Morpheus x fem!reader) The Sandman killed your parents. Of that you're sure. So when your best friend tells you the Sandman is after you, you run. You've been running from him for most of your life, and you sure as hell aren't going to let him find you now. You can't let the Sandman kill you. Not until you kill him first. Feel free to listen to the playlist I created for this series while you read.

Prologue

[Chapters 1-4 are in progress]

I'm currently also co-writing a Twilight fic and a Harry Potter fic which are taking up most of my time, so feel free to check them out while you wait for me to write more fics.

Don't forget to leave comments and reblog my fics. Every time someone interacts with my work, I'm more inclined to keep it going, so please spread my work as far as you can 🧡 and enjoy

(Let me know if any of the links don't work)

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chimcess · 2 years

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The Spork {M.Y.G.} (2)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Other tags: Journalist! Yoongi, Artist! Reader, Coworkers to Lovers, Starving Artist! Yoongi, Pianist! Yoongi, Yoongi pining over his ex heavy in the beginning, Smut Word Count: 2.6k Genre: Coworkers to lovers! AU, Angst, Slow Burn, Eventual Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pining over Ex Synopsis: Min Yoongi is by all accounts a loser- well according to his girlfriend anyway. After losing his job at Five Guys, Park Bitna finally kicks their 8-year relationship to the curb and now he is desperately trying to win her back, even going back into the world of journalism to make things right. After getting a job at humor magazine, The Spork, Yoongi meets Y/N, an anti-social cartoonist with mommy issues. Together, the two hatch up a plan to help Yoongi get Bitna back, but what happens when Yoongi realizes that maybe his dreams are different now? Warnings: Talks of depression, talk of antidepressants (for like two seconds), Huge insecurity issues, Reader has mommy issues, mentions of past eating disorder (Please be cautious), They’re massive idiots, alcohol consumption, Oral (f receiving), Dirty Talk, Pretty vanilla, soft Yoongi, fluffy smut, lots of kisses, pretty tame honestly, they do it on top of the piano, multiple smut scenes A/N: So... it’s been a while...(7 months) hehe. Hear me out, this story has been impossible to write! I’ve been doing more deleting than writing and it was beginning to get frustrating so I may have taken a tiny break. I’m hoping after I get this out in the void and continue working on other things in between parts that I can keep my momentum. She’s a bit short (I’m sorry) but something is better than nothing (I hope), and there is a massive content warning as the ED talking begins here. PLEASE, do not read if it will trigger you. Also, we have updated the banner for this baby. Still not sure how happy I am with it but definitely better than previous versions. Playlist

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Bowling came faster than Yoongi was expecting. Jungkook and Taehyung had picked him up from his apartment. Y/N lived down the street from the alley and walked. They were all paid for and ready to go. Yoongi felt nervous during the drive and at ease all at once. The two men had never brought up Yoongi’s panic attack nor the cold behavior afterward, and while he was grateful, he felt on edge about it. Sooner or later they would. He felt embarrassed at the idea. Y/N being around made him feel more at ease about the situation. She had not brought it up again and he now had almost an entire drawer in his office filled with sticky notes. They started to eat together every other day, and Jungkook was sad that he never got to spend time with his “nonna” anymore. Y/N would make sure to take him out when the pouting became too much. Yoongi ate with Hoseok and Namjoon on those days much to his dismay. Namjoon was incredibly awkward to be around.

“You any good at bowling, hyung?” Taehyung teased, taking off his seatbelt.

Yoongi had not realized that they had arrived.

“No,” Yoongi deadpanned. “This is my second least favorite thing to do.”

“What’s the first?” Jungkook piped in, grinning widely.

“Roller skating.”

Seokjin was at their table waiting for them. Y/N was nowhere in sight. Yoongi panicked but did not show it. He needed to be okay without her here all the time. He liked these guys. He had little contact with Seokjin aside from his rants with Jungkook but he was a nice guy. He was married with kids, always talked about his dinner parties, and Yoongi was almost positive the guy was the loudest but most polite person he had ever met.

It was odd to see everyone dressed down. Everyone, aside from Y/N, always dressed professionally. Seokjin wore designer suits along with Taehyung. Yoongi did not even realize Jungkook had a full sleeve. He had always worn long sleeves and only the small tattoos on his hand were visible. Now, they were all wearing stereotypical bowling team shirts, Jungkook had got a few extra shirts from his real bowling team, and gave the once pristine white and shell pink button-ups a god-awful tie-dye job. He had changed the name to “Spork Fraternization” on the back along with a very poor quality .jpg of a stock image of a woman eating a salad. It still had the “Shutter Stock” watermarks on it. Yoongi was glad Jungkook did not have enough time to make him one.

Seokjin smiled at him.

“Hey, Yoon the Goon. What’s up? Y/N invite you?” Hoseok had everyone at work calling him that now.

Yoongi nodded.

“Well, welcome to the team! You’re the ref, right?”

He nodded again.

“Make sure no one cheats. Jin Hyung always finds a way.” Jungkook joked.

“It’s literally impossible to cheat at bowling.” Seokjin snapped, annoyed and defensive. “There’s already a computer keeping count!”

“Well, actually…” Jungkook began a rant and rave about the different ways you could theoretically cheat at bowling.

Seokjin grew more displeased. Taehyung looked amused. Yoongi felt himself relaxing.

“Why do you always pick a fight with me?” Jin accused, voice high pitched.

“I’m not ‘picking a fight,’ I’m just picking on you.” Jungkook laughed.

“You two are by far the most annoying people I have ever met.” Y/N seemingly came from nowhere. Yoongi felt his heart rate speed up at the sound of her voice.

It was the first time Yoongi had ever seen her in jeans. Y/N was wearing the ugly bowling shirt and tucked it into a pair of stone-washed ripped jeans. They were baggy and did not do much for her shape but Yoongi still found them unbelievably attractive. Her hair was styled differently than normal. It was usually a messy, low effort, just rolled out of bed. Tonight it was brushed and tied back into a sleek ponytail. Yoongi noticed she was wearing a tiny bit of makeup as well. She looked pretty in her baggy jeans and white Air Force Ones. He wanted to see her like that more often even if he did miss the way she looked in those Superman pajama bottoms.

“Sorry about them. They don’t know when to shut up. Ever.” Y/N gave Yoongi a huge smile and wrapped her arm around him in greeting.

Yoongi was so shocked he did not get to return the gesture. Y/N never made physical contact with him before. This was totally new for Yoongi and he enjoyed it as much as it made him feel guilty. Because when she touched him like that all he could think about was the way Bitna used to hold him and he wanted it to stop. He wanted to enjoy himself without this shadow looming over him. He tapped her shoulder lightly and she backed off. He let out a sigh and relaxed once more. He noticed her tablet glove had been replaced with a bowling glove like Jungkook’s. Yoongi felt himself get disappointed. It was as though the woman from work was gone and the only remaining quality was her dry humor.

“Sexy jeans, Y/N.” Jin joked, tongue overdramatically running over his lower lip.

“Virgin, Jin.”

Yoongi was not sure if he had seen any of the men laugh harder. His own smile took over his face without much help. That comforting feeling was back. He quickly realized that as long as he did not focus on how foreign she looked, Yoongi was able to drown in the overwhelming calm that overtook him in Y/N’s presence. Ever since the anxiety attack, Yoongi had been even more attached to her than before. He even texts her at least once a day outside of work. Yoongi hated texting.

Y/N had not brought up Bitna once since she blew him off. Yoongi was grateful for that. Jimin had asked him about it the day after it happened, and after Yoongi explained the situation, it seemed like Jimin was everywhere. It was beginning to become annoying even if Yoongi appreciated the kindness behind his actions. Y/N was right when she told him Jimin was the nicest guy in the world. To a fault at times.

The bowling match started off strong, Yoongi doing nothing but eating some pretzel bites he got at the snack bar and sipping a whiskey on the rocks. Jungkook and Y/N, dubbed Big Meow, were in the lead but Taehyung and Jin were only five points behind. It was quite amusing. Apparently, both teams felt the need to heckle the other in the most obnoxious ways possible. Every time that team Big Meow won, a name Yoongi still was not sure made a lick of sense considering the context, Y/N and Jungkook would wave around the speedos the boys were supposed to wear. In return, Jin would scream “Get Milked, bitches” and chest bump Taehyung. Very entertaining.

“Having fun?” Y/N asked, still breathless from a round of laughter after Jin managed to slip before taking his shot. Everyone decided that it counted.

“Yeah, you guys are something else.” Yoongi smiled and took another small sip from his drink. It was far too expensive to buy another one.

“Can’t wait to watch them streak through Seoul.”

“Where are you taking them?” Another sip.

“Namjoon’s band is playing at Eat Milk. We go inside and split up, the guys order a drink from the bar, go to the front row and get Joon’s attention. Start stripping and get the hell out of there before security gets to them.”

“Sounds like Namjoon-shi is also getting punished.” He finished off his last pretzel.

“Yeah, well he fucked up our performance reviews under the basis of ‘being disruptive at work,’ so we decided to show him how disruptive we can be.” Y/N asked Jungkook to grab her water when she noticed the younger man going to the restroom.

“Speaking of,” Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back. “What’s a Fat Lard Challenge?”

“Only the most intense food challenge in South Korea,” Taehyung, as per usual, came from seemingly nowhere.

“Jesus man, you got to stop doing that shit.” Yoongi glared.

“My bad, anyway,” Taehyung started whispering as though this were some secret. “Fat Lard is crazy. You have one hour to eat a 4lb burger with eight slices of bacon, four slices of cheese, and four fried eggs. Plus a side of fries. You win, it’s free and you get a shirt. You lose, you get a picture on the loser board, spanked with a paddle, and you have to pay for it.”

“How much?”

“About $50,” Y/N replied casually.

“Can you eat that?” Yoongi looked Y/N up and down, not believing for a second she stood a chance.

She suddenly wrapped her arms around herself. Y/N had had an odd look on her face, one Yoongi could not decipher, but he felt like he had upset her in some way. Scared. Y/N looked scared. He scrambled to figure out why she would respond to his obvious joke in such a strong way. Taehyung was strangely quiet as well.

“Jungkook is the one doing the challenge. Only one person can do it. I’m just moral support.” Her voice was as small as she looked at that moment.

It was her turn once again and Y/N took her first shot. She knocked down four on her first roll and the rest on her second. Jungkook had returned for his turn and gave Y/N her water before getting into another ego contest with Jin. She did not join in this time and returned to their table. Yoongi tried to apologize but could not figure out what to say. The rest of their bowling match went on. Jin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were all yelling at one another, and Y/N and Yoongi sitting in a tense silence while she waited for her turn. For the first time since their friendship had started Yoongi did not know what to say.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook had sat across from Yoongi, he had not noticed. Y/N was gone. “She went to the bathroom.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Jungkook smiled sadly. “Just try to refrain from food talk. She’s been talking to her mom again and it’s been rough. I’m sure you know all about that trainwreck.”

“Uh,” Yoongi shook his head. “I mean, sort of. Y/N hasn’t really gotten into it with me herself. Yoona briefly bought it up when Bitna stopped by but that’s about it.”

“Oh, shit,” Jungkook blurted, “Well, it’s something. She’ll talk about it eventually but don’t bring it up.”

“Yeah, man. No problem.”

“I’ll get you a drink at the restaurant.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Again her mother had been brought up as a point of contention. Yoongi tried to imagine Y/N’s family and could only think of other smart-ass, funky artsy types, but that was not the case. Apparently, Y/N’s mother was like a wicked stepmother and no one really seemed to like her. Not even her daughter. Yoongi wondered why she would talk to someone who hurt her so badly that her coworkers knew all about it but knew that it was hypocritical of him. He had had a meltdown over a woman. This was someone’s mother.

Y/N came back about five minutes later and sat beside Yoongi. He tensed up but did not move away. He enjoyed the proximity but felt clueless. Should he apologize? Then again he had no idea what to apologize for. Yoongi did not have to think for long. Y/N leaned over and asked him to go outside with her. Yoongi nodded and quickly followed behind her. No one in the group asked about it and Jungkook took her turn with no complaints. Again, Yoongi felt the overwhelming emotions he had the other day. He would never regret working with them.

It was windy out but still hot. The humidity made Yoongi break out into a sweat and he felt the pit in his stomach getting deeper. He did not like confrontation and he was afraid he had pushed away his friend. Anxiety bubbled in his chest but he attempted to ignore it. He reminded himself of the kind of person she was and it soothed him if only for a few seconds. The anxiety only grew the longer she stayed silent.

“I’m sorry about getting all weird in there,” Y/N finally spoke. “I’m so used to everyone knowing all about me that I can forget you don’t. I think it’s why I enjoy spending time with you so much.”

Yoongi remained quiet. He figured she just wanted him to listen right now. Bitna never just listened. She always had to say something o provide input and it bothered him. He did not want to push Y/N any more than she wanted to be. He would listen and stay quiet.

“I know you’re probably really confused. It’s a long story but I’ll just spare you the details.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Yoongi voiced, “I don’t want you to feel forced.”

Y/N smiled into the distance.

“It’s okay. You got vulnerable with me so I’ll return the favor.”

She took a deep breath before finally looking Yoongi in the eye.

“I’m recovering from an eating disorder I’ve been struggling with since I was 12.”

Y/N took another deep breath and Yoongi heard the way she choked up. It broke his heart.

“It moved from calorie counting to starving myself, and by the time I was a freshman in college, I was bulimic. I didn’t start getting better until after I graduated and was sent to a psych ward after being hospitalized for malnutrition. I was sent to an inpatient center for a few months after that. I think that’s when Little Meow and Big Kitty started, and Jimin and I started talking about opening our own magazine company. The Spork was born and we bought the building after I was released.”

Yoongi did not say anything and neither did she. The pair stood outside, the sweat building up, and staring straight ahead. The man did not know what to say. How do you react to that? Should he talk about his own mental health? Maybe bring up his days of locking himself in his dorm room waiting on God to just let him die? However, he did not do either one of those things. Instead, he stood tall next to his friend, completely quiet, and reached out to place a hand on her head.

“I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

“Yoongi, it’s fine-” She brushed his hand off.

“No,” The man made a point to keep eye contact. “It doesn’t matter if I knew or not, I still made you upset and I’m sorry. I’ll be more considerate next time. I promise.”

Y/N closed her mouth and looked away. Yoongi was worried he had upset her again. He had meant it, he did want to apologize, but he could see how it could upset her. He contemplated saying sorry again but found himself unable to figure out what he was saying sorry for in the first place. Before he could gather his thoughts, Y/N faced him again and this time placed her head on his chest. The two of them stayed like that, silent and unmoving until the three men came outside yelling about Jungkook’s landslide victory.

Taglist:

@hobipost @rottenandpretty @pb89nv @screaching-cookie @mochieverything @almosttoopizza @youurkryptonite @ysljoon @gfksz @tarahardcore

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rosietrace · 1 year

Text

Melodic Misconceptions 🎹

Track 27: Haha... Surprise, bitches(affectionate)

Synopsis: Victoria Shard was a former member of the popular idol group [ Poisoner ] from NRC corporations. After discourse with her group leader, Victoria decided it was best for her to leave and pursue her solo career in a record label run by her parents.

It had been half a year since her separation from her old group, and Victoria had never been more successful. But now she has a new problem. She must return to NRC corporations in order to mentor the seven idol groups.

Ellis Clawthorne is a member of [ (Co)-connect ] the most recent group under NRC'S belt. With no experience as an idol, Ellis must persevere in order to succeed and pursue her dreams.

Will both girls be able to adapt to their current situations?

♝•°•══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════•°•♝

Author's note: Lo and behold, a new track is upon us!!

Now, before you ask, no. I definitely did not stress myself out trying to finish this. That is a lie

I'm really sorry that updates are slower than when the series first started :( I genuinely feel a lot more guilty for that than I should

But either way, it's always fun to write these tracks ^^ not only are the characters incorporated are super interesting to write for, but it's good to know that I can at least bring joy in my shitty writing

Hope you enjoy this track! And welcome back to another album of Melodic Misconceptions ^^ though, please forgive me for any ooc moments

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SKANK ASS SHITFACED LIAR WOULD DO THAT!!"

Ellis flinched, surprised by the sheer strength someone like Zen had to throw a chair across the room.

Juvia reached out, resting her hand on Zen's shoulder."Zen…. We're just as frustrated as you, but still…" she looked away for a brief moment.

"You can't just lash out in frustration like that. Besides… You've been doing that for the past hour.." seeing the pained expression on not only Juvia's face, but the rest of the group's as well, made Zen feel more guilty than he thought he deserved.

".... Sorry." He murmured, simultaneously embarrassed but irritated.

Carol sighed, resting her book on her lap."Well, I can't exactly blame you for being so frustrated." She commented, "It was wrong of Koral and her fans to try and bring your career down just by a single tweet-"

"Which was, may I remind you, not even that offensive of a tweet." Yuuta interrupted, resting his head on his palm as he sat next to Carol.

Narrowing her eyes at him for even the briefest of moments, Carol sighed and nodded in begrudged agreement."Yes…. That."

Zen sat down next to Ellis, groaning into his hands."Fuck…." He cursed, with Ellis gently resting her hand on his shoulder. Similar to what Juvia did moments before.

Humming to herself, Ellis gave Zen an awkward smile once he took the time to look her in the eye.

"If it makes you feel better, you could write a song! To, y'know, clear your head?..." She suggested, feeling all the more awkward by the lack of response on Zen's end.

Mayuu sat on the chair near the kitchen counter, huffing."Hmm….. That could be a good way for Zen to clear his head.." she turned to face the young man in question, "What do you think?"

As everyone turned to face Zen, he contemplated Ellis's suggestion, questioning if he should write a song or not.

Standing up from the couch, Zen made his way to the door. Ellis followed suit, trying to reach out to him.

"Zen-"

"Ellis, please…. I'll be fine." The smile he sent her made Ellis feel even worse for Zen.

"I just need to think about it."

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Typing down the remaining lyrics of the song she was writing, Chizuko tried - and I mean tried - to ignore the shaking feeling she had.

She tried to ignore it. Desperately. All the tweets surrounding him, all of the rumors about him, and the drama he had with Vil. She did what she could to desperately ignore even thinking about him.

Thinking about Shin.

Frustrated, Chizuko massaged her temples to try and calm herself down. Already feeling frustrated just by briefly having Shin on her mind.

But her thoughts were soon cut short, as Yuuta suddenly entered the living room, an empty coffee mug in tow.

Carol's not gonna like this…. She thought, before narrowing her eyes at Yuuta in disapproval."Why are you awake at this hour?"

Yuuta smirked, taking out the jar of coffee beans from one of the cupboards."‘Could ask you the same thing, Chi." Her expression remained hard, but there was a brief tender softness when he referred to her by her nickname.

"I'm being serious, Yuuta. You should be asleep."

"So should you." Her words fell short when he commented on her recent lack of sleep. Clicking his tongue, Yuuta waited for the hot water to finish boiling as he walked over to Chizuko and sat down next to her.

"Let me guess, Shin?" Ah. She almost forgot that she mentioned that wretched man to Yuuta at some point.

And so, Chizuko attempted to change the subject."Shouldn't you be cuddling with Miren or something?"

Yuuta chuckled, smiling fondly."Well, I would, but he's a bit of a snorer. But that isn't the topic of this conversation, is it?"

Cursing in Korean, Chizuko mentally groaned before giving in."Fine…. I've been trying to get my mind off him."

The expression in Yuuta's eyes softened."Chi…"

She put away her laptop to prevent herself from accidentally damaging it. Especially with the erratic and frustrated movements she was currently making.

"It's just- It feels like everywhere I go, no matter how hard I try-"

"Chi-"

"It's like he's FOLLOWING me! And-"

"Chizuko-"

"I CAN'T STAND HIM BECAUSE OF IT!..."

Pain filled Yuuta's current expression, but that pain soon transitioned into disgust. Because of Shin.

Because of what he did to one of the only people he could call a best friend.

Unexpectedly, Chizuko felt a hand on her head. Yuuta's hand gently patted her in an attempt to comfort her.

"I'm not the best with feelings at all, but…. If you need someone to rant about that shithead? Hit me up." He smiled, gentler than he usually did."Okay?"

Chizuko was silent. Unsurprisingly so, but this time her silence made Yuuta anxious.

But then she sighed, giving him the smallest but most genuine of smiles she could give him.

"Thanks, Yuuta-"

"What are you two doing still up?"

Yuuta flinched, and they both whipped their heads to the direction of the door. Only to find Carol, wearing her pajamas, narrowing her eyes at them.

"Um-"

"Yuuta, you better have a good explanation for this." Carol crossed her arms over her chest. And for once, this was one of the few times Chizuko ever saw Yuuta genuinely nervous.

"Well, miss Ann-" his words were cut off by the sound of the toilet flushing, with Miren groaning soon after.

"Ugh…. I shouldn't have eaten that-" Miren cut himself off once he noticed Carol, Chizuko, and Yuuta.

And after what seemed like an eternity of silence, Carol facepalmed and sighed heavily.

"Good god…."

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ [ The next day, Pyroxene café ]

Resting your head on her shoulder, you tried to look at what Victoria was writing. Up until she decided to gently push you away.

You faked a pout."Oh c'mon, why won't you let me see?" You questioned her, trying to annoy her into answering your question.

Victoria rolled her eyes, continuing to write down in her notebook."Zen needed me to rewrite some lyrics for a song he's doing. Although, I'm not sure what his intentions are based on the lyrics in rewriting…"

She turned to look you in the eye, staring at you with the most deadpanned expression anyone could imagine.

"Does that answer your question?"

You leaned back into the chair."Hmm, maybe." Your response wasn't amusing to her in the slightest. At least based on her current facial expression.

So you decided to change the subject.

"How's your friend doing?" She knew you were asking about Zen.

"Zen….. Is going through a lot."

"Isn't ‘cancel culture’ a regular thing with you idols?"

Victoria sighed, "Yes…. But Zen's one of the very few idols that aren't involved in a considerable number of scandals."

Your lips parted, somewhat distracted by the way she looked at the moment. But you threw those thoughts out of the window, knowing you wouldn't be getting any accolades for checking out the idol in front of you.

"So….. He's writing a song to get that off his mind?"

"Clearly." Victoria took a sip of her coffee, before almost violently putting it back down. Which was both hilarious and a tad bit concerning.

Letting out a breath, you stopped her from continuing her little writing spree by placing your hand over hers. Which, in turn, resulted in Victoria whipping her head around to face you.

While you inched unnaturally close to her face. Hell, you didn't even know what you were doing with that kind of proximity.

"Just…. Take a small break, Vic. Please?"

Feeling the tips of her ears go red with the level of proximity between your face and hers, Victoria gently pushed you away. Looking away from you in the process.

Confused, you tried to reach out. But she just swatted your hand away. And in those moments of silence, she finally responded,

".... Fine. Just this once."

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Taglist

🥥 @starry-night-rose @nem0-nee @windbornearchon @fumikomiyasaki @authoruio @sakuramidnight15

Moots <3 @geminiiviolets @oseathepebble @celiica @twsted-princess @vivaresmala @vaporvipermedia @knights-escort @mintychocolate04 @littleunknowncheesecake

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