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#feel free to answer my questions o:
fjordfolk · 9 months
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Hello, I was just wondering if you could share more about the kind of training and preparation you did with your girls at home/on shorter walks to get them ready for long hikes. And out of curiosity, what were the traits you looked for in potential breeds/puppies to suit long hikes? 💜
Oof, I wish I had a good and technical system to present here, but the truth is that we live in a rural part of Norway where nothing is flat unless it was dug out and the asphalt cracks so fast the main roads count as mild terrain, so a lot of it just comes with the territory.
From early on I've pretty much just tried to let them learn and grow as naturally as possible and to not limit them too much, and all of our puppies have been active and come on short hikes since they were ~3 months old. Not like heavy, static, structured activity - but little off-trail mountain or forest treks focused on play and exploration. Shaping the dog I want from the start, basically.
Our activity levels fluctuate with the season and weather, so we only do really long hikes in the summer and early autumn. But it's not unusual to spend 3-4hrs going mostly uphill on a regular walk, so doubling that for a hike isn't that big of an ask as long as they're healthy and in good base condition. And once hiking season starts rolling around in June after eight months of snow/sleet/rain, I'm usually in worse shape than my dogs anyway lol. I know my dogs well and we start the season with a few warmup hikes, to see where we're all at.
As far as breeds go, idk. I just tend to like a relatively neutral, balanced build. I'm not personally into very large or heavy dogs. I appreciate a little athleticism. I want less prey drive and more handler orientation. The ideal dog for me is one that maybe doesn't Have To, but Can and Wants To. Over the years I've also learned that I like a little moderation in body and angulation, and I prefer a slightly careful dog over an overconfident one.
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angeltism · 1 month
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uh oh
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helloooo I'm @platonic-qpr-selfshipping and I'm curious about your relationship with Alice! how did you two meet? what was it that made you consider to have a qpr with her? do you have any hobbies in common?
Hii!!😁🩷🩷
💛 So I imagine that me and her met when we ended up working together, like at a café or something similar yk? We got along really well and found out we had some things in common! We hung out a lot. After a while a relationship (qpr) developed :)
💛 She’s always been one of my favorite characters in Gotham! I think she’s really interesting (also just a tad bit relatable) and I felt drawn to her. She was definitely gonna become a f/o at some point! I wasn’t sure what to call our relationship at first, because I didn’t really think of it as a romantic relationship, but after learning about QPRs I found that the term fit really well!
💛 Since she wasn’t on the show for very long, we didn’t get to see what she liked to do or anything like that, so I have to come up with these on my own🥲 but hey! All the more fun :) I like to imagine that she likes to draw, which I do as well! Sometimes we’ll just sit together and draw.
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fantasylandloser · 10 months
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marriage pact pt.2
summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship
Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom
part 1
*****
“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.
You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment. 
The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step. 
“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.
“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.
“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.
You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.
“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.
“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap. 
You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly. 
“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.
“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.
“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him. 
“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.
“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings. 
“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.
“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened. 
“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him. 
“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate. 
“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence. 
“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 
“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically. 
“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.
“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.
“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”
Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people. 
“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore. 
“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly. 
“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.
“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.
“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.
“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.
“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.
“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes. 
“Fucking tease.”
*****
Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want. 
Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.
“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced. 
“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up. 
Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief. 
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind  of girl.
You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.
“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea. 
You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast. 
When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.
“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet. 
“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..
After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.
Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.
You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.
“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still. 
When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.
You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.
You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly. 
And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience. 
After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing. 
Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening. 
“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you. 
“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your  folds. 
“Steve”  You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you. 
“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this. 
He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.
“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.
You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.
When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.
He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair. 
Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.
You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you. 
“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.
“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.
“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.
“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.
“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says. 
“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.
“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.
******
“Dude, why are you staring at me?”  Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring. 
“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.
“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.
‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin. 
“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.
“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.
“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it. 
“Always?” He asked, to which you nod. 
“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness.  “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”
“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.
“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed. 
His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.
“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair. 
When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring. 
“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.
“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap. 
“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again. 
“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said. 
You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.
“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.
“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life. 
“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that. 
Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained.  If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story. 
‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.
“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness. 
You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.
“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”
“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.
Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter. 
*****
tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986
p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why
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wqnwoos · 1 year
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seventeen & touch-starved s/o (hhu ver.)
an / entirely written for a friend of mine but here. also whoever is reading this i love u have a good day 💓💕💖💗💞💘💝💖💞💕💗
vocal unit ver.
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SEUNGCHEOL.
bear hugs that are somehow simultaneously gentle but also tight
props his chin on your head/shoulder
murmurs in your ear a couple times to make sure you’re alright
“hello?”
“hi,” you say softly into the phone. “um. it’s me.”
you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice when he replies. “hi, baby. everything okay?”
“yeah!” you respond, too quickly with a voice pitched slightly too high. “everything’s fine! just… gonna go to bed now, i think.”
“i’m on my way home right now.” cheol answers the unasked question with ease. “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get your cuddles.”
which is why he’s unsurprised when you’re waiting by the door the moment he arrives home, clad in your pyjamas with a freshly-washed face, flinging your arms around his neck the moment he crosses the threshold.
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WONWOO.
will quite literally let u do anything
most patient man fr
his hands, his hair, his thigh — it’s free real estate (but only for you)
it’s nearing 1 in the morning when you start missing wonwoo’s touch.
he’s not far, just on soonyoung’s couch. dinner had turned quickly into drinking games — you’d sat out, instead volunteering to clean the kitchen with vernon and jihoon. which was nice and fun and whatever, but as you sidle up to where wonwoo’s sitting on the sofa, you feel the sudden intense urge to just… cling.
that’s how you end up next to him, with his large hands in yours, you fiddling with his fingers, tracing his palm lines — comparing hand sizes and stroking his knuckles. he doesn’t even flinch, just listening to jeonghan’s story and nodding in all the right places; at some point, he even raises your joined hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over your knuckles, leaving you blushing with the slightest smirk tilting his lips.
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MINGYU.
will drop everything to give you the hugs that you need and deserve (and i mean EVERYTHING)
good luck trying to get him to let go
the things i’d do to be hugged by him… those arms probably feel like the safest place in the world
it’s been one of those days — long and tiring and just wrong. which is why when mingyu hugs you in greeting as you step inside, it takes you all of two seconds to burst into tears.
“baby? are you — oh, sweetheart,” he gasps, as you start to shake into his chest. “don’t cry. c’mere. my baby, what is it? what happened?”
you can’t do anything but blubber helplessly, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, pressing loving kisses everywhere he can reach. his arms stay around you the entire time, as he guides you to the couch, pulls you into his lap and soothes you with gentle touches and quiet murmurs. before he eventually starts cracking jokes — “i’ll buy out your company and never make you work again, if you want.” — and ordering your favourite takeout.
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VERNON.
lets you do anything to him (2)
he’s so funny i feel like sometimes he’s just calling you dude but also he might just come out with the smoothest shit right when you don’t expect it
probably fiddles with your hair when he hold you
“vernon?”
“mm?” he glances up from him phone to find you standing in the doorway of the bedroom with round, pleading eyes. he knows immediately that you want something, and also knows immediately that he’ll grant you whatever it is. he always does, when you look at him like that.
you hesitate. “can i get a hug?”
as if he’d ever deny you that. he slides off the bed in one fluid motion, opening his arms and dropping his phone. “of course. come here.”
about a minute later, he attempts a pull away — you whine and tighten your arms, speaking into his shirt with a muffled plea. “just — a little longer? please?”
“as long as you want. i’ve got all day for you, baby.”
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reiderwriter · 3 days
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Four In Some Velvet Morning
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Chapter Two of I Can't Help Myself
Summary: Civility in the office is equal to pettiness in all things, but when you help Spencer out in a sticky situation, it's all your mind can think about well into the early hours in the morning.
Warnings: Uncomfortable situation with a student (non-reciprocated), suggestive touching, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft dom! Spencer.
A/N: The second part is finally here!! I hope you enjoy the various office shenanigans of Spencer and our reader. Based on the results of our last chapter, I've made a taglist, which you can access through the link below! Have fun reading, and be sure to let me know what you think in the comments~♡
Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist~♡
You loved Mondays, or you did love Mondays when they meant only a single teaching hour and a free office to catch up on however much work you'd put off the week before.
But, like everything in your life now, Mondays were ruined by Doctor Spencer Reid.
When you and your coffee arrived at 8:45 on Monday morning, he was right there. You heaved out a sigh of frustration, and he didn't respond, so you sank into an hours worth of annoyed sighs and silence.
“Hmmph,” you huffed, standing from your desk and making your bookshelves. Still ordered alphabetically, and topically, you tried your best to look for the reference guide you'd been annotating all semester. But with no helpful guide to which topics it was that he'd used, you found yourself turning around to address your silent, unwanted companion.
“Spencer, my reference book, where is it?”
You stared blankly at him for a few minutes as you watched him trace a finger down the page he was reading. Delicately, he turned the page and resumed reading the next one, stroking the page like it was a lover in a tender moment, his fingers trailing down to offer his intimacy.
“Spencer?” You said again, and he again ignored you.
“Spencer, there's no way you're reading that fast, cut the crap and answer my question.”
“I can read 20,000 words per minute. Thus, I am busy. And weren't you ignoring me?” You took a deep breath and counted to ten in your head before replying.
“I thought we were being civil, Spencer.”
“I am being civil. I'm very civil. Are you being civil, Ms. Y/N?”
“Doctor,” you spat out. “I may have only one to your three, but I did work hard for it.”
He stopped reading and looked up at you, noting the angry look on your face. Standing up quickly, he checked his watch, grabbed his bag and jacket, making sure to carefully slide the book he was molesting into his bag, and walked straight for the door.
“Spencer!” You said indignantly, and he turned back to you with a sarcastic smile, pulling the book you were searching for off the bookcase and throwing it in your direction, before stalking out of the room.
“Jackass!” You shouted behind him as he sent a wave over his shoulder.
Civility. Well, if that was his idea of civility, you could be just as civil. And you'd start by taking all of the books off of the bookshelves once again.
When three hours had elapsed and Spencer had concluded the day's work, he was disappointed to find the office empty. He didn't dwell on the feeling for long, though, as he flipped the light switch to utter chaos.
You'd pretty much gutted the entire shelf, leaving pretty piles stacked all across his desk, chair, and the floor surrounding it, making it near impossible to make his way to his desk without moving something.
The shelves weren't totally empty, though. You'd left roughly thirty books on the centre shelf, held in place by paper weights he recognised as his own acting as bookends.
A post-it was stuck to the first book.
“Ignore this,” you'd written, a lipstick kiss pressed into the paper as your only form of signature. For plausible deniability, of course. You'd never sign your name to a crime.
He sighed and lifted a hand to start taking some books down when he spotted it.
“D…o…n….t…,” he would've gotten further but for the grin spreading across his face as he read the first letter on each book spine. You'd spelt out five words, and he felt a vague sense of satisfaction knowing you'd spent so much time just trying to mess with him.
“DONT TOUCH MY SHIT, JACKASS,” you'd written. But he was absolutely going to touch your shit.
Much to his chagrin, you didn't return to the office that day, too busy with other duties to need to go back. You also wanted to give him a wide berth, hoping that he'd have time to simmer instead of immediately retaliate for all the shit you'd pulled that morning.
Which was why Spencer found himself at work at 6 a.m., getting an early start so he could see your reaction to his, honestly quite tame reply.
You'd acted like a toddler throwing toys out of your pram for no reason. And while he wasn't exactly acting mature himself, he could at least liken himself to a young child throwing the toys back in frustration.
Everything about sharing this office with you was going to be frustrating.
He opened his book again - War and Peace - and began reading through it as he waited for the sun to rise and you to arrive with it.
It was well worth it to catch the look on your face.
“Jackass,” you muttered under your breath as you walked in, coffees and pastries in hand.
He'd put the majority of the books back on the shelf in his order and system. But he'd also left out a large pile of books, blocking the narrow passage between your desk and the wall. It was taller than you and hardly stable, and since you did not want to get concussed on a Tuesday morning, there was no other route to your desk but squeezing behind his.
You huffed out a sigh, dropping what you'd hoped would be truce coffee and breakfast on his desk before standing to push past him. He blocked your way with his arm as he finished up reading a chapter.
“Password?” He asked, not looking up from his desk.
“Very funny, let me pass.”
“Incorrect,” he smiled, nodding towards the shelf where you'd left yesterday's message.
“Seriously?” You asked. His answering look supplied the answer you needed - try me.
“Don't touch my shit, jackass,” you said in a sarcastic tone, trying once again to push past. His damn arm was still too solid, and he pushed you back once again.
“I'm sorry, Y/N, but that was yesterday's password. You'll have to try again.”
Squinting down at him in confusion, you did your best not to dump his coffee over the top of his head as he nodded to the shelf again.
Your writing was still there, but one shelf down there was a new message.
“BUT… ILO…I LOVE… TOU-” You froze, your entire body going hot as you walked back over to him. He was taking a sip of his coffee, as you desperately avoided eye contact. You knew you were attractive, but you honestly didn't think that Spencer would be interested in you like that. And flirting like this, so out of the blue?
Something had to be wrong with him.
“Password?” He asked, taking another sip.
“B-But I love touching you,” you stammered out, cheeks aflame.
He somehow coughed and snorted at the same time, shooting out of his chair with wide eyes.
“More-” he coughed. “That's not… There's more.”
Your eyes went wide as saucers as you ran back over to the shelves, reading to what was actually the end of the message.
“But I love touching your shit,” you mumbled, and he didn't bother even raising a hand this time. He let you pass, and you sat in tense silence for the rest of the morning.
You got over the awkwardness soon, though, and began using the shelves to torture each other between classes.
You'd once replaced all three textbooks for his class with Russian language versions, back firing spectacularly as he smiled and began reading from them anyway.
He'd started putting important texts on the very top shelf and hiding the only step on the floor in some classroom or the other. Though he too had quit that when other members of staff grew frustrated at the steps disappearance.
You both kept up with the book messages.
“YOU'RE… TOO…LOUD”
“I DIDNT… DO…ANYTHING”
“YOU BREATHED”
“BOO HOO”
“COFFEE…PLEASE”
“IM NOT…YOUR…ASSISTANT”
“WITH THREE… SUGARS”
“I HOPE…. DIABETES… GETS YOU”
“SO…MATURE”
If you were being honest with yourself, you'd probably have realized that you were having a lot of fun hating Spencer Reid. Which made him a little bit harder to hate.
You wished he'd have been more mature about the whole thing, really, so you could despise him without laughing at his audacity every five minutes.
Thursday was the worst day for both of you. Thankfully, he'd taken your advice and scheduled his office hours around your classes.
What he hadn't taken into account was that on Thursdays, you had several classes on different disciplines and for different degree levels, meaning a truck load of resources you had to either cart around with you all day (impossible) or you'd have to drop into your office regularly to pick up your things.
You'd ended up in the same queue as the myriad of undergrads that were taking his course or just auditing and wanted to pick his brain on his off hours, and it was hell each time.
“God, isn't he just so fine. An 18-year age gap isn't noticeable, right?” One girl whispered to her friend as you turned the corner, books in hand, ready to use them as defence weapons should the need arise. The need to laugh and yell it was too much had you biting your tongue quickly. The man was 10 years older than even you, and even you had to pause at the age difference. These girls were practically children.
“And his hair? I just want to tangle my hair in it and pull him down to my-”
“Girls! Please remember this is a hallway, and your professors are still trying to get some work done.”
To their credit, the two first years did turn crimson in shame, sending each other panicked and dirty looks as they communicated their shared horror.
You stepped up to the small hall window at your office and peeked through the blinds.
Another student was inside with Spencer, and the panicked look on his face meant that his conversation was probably going similarly.
The students in the hall whispered and glanced at you every few seconds, and if you weren't in the biggest rush of your professional career, you'd take the time to ask them if you had something on your face.
Instead, you just tried to knock on the glass and hope Spencer would notice your plea for access.
When Spencer noticed you at the window, his eyes locked with yours, his mouth forming a simple plea as the undergrad inched closer to him.
“Help,” he mouthed.
You shrugged in reply, wondering what would possibly be so bad that he'd need your help of all things.
It was then that you noticed the undergrad had reached out a hand to play with the buttons of his jacket, stroking her hand along his chest as he cringed backwards.
You watched him take her hands off him, but she was tenacious, or just a downright creep, and she grabbed his thigh this time, pressing her chest forward. You couldn't see it yourself, but you knew from his reaction and instantly turned head that she was dangerously close to flashing him.
Or she was just doing it.
His eyes pleaded for help again, and you barged into the room with a large cough.
“Doctor Reid, if I could have a moment of your time? It's urgent.”
You dumped the books on your desk, and he jumped up to greet you, stepping out of the young students' grasp and almost shielding himself behind where you stood.
“Of course, yes, Y/N. It is urgent, so I'm sure the students will... be understanding."
He turned back to the student and gestured helpfully to show her the door, but her angry gaze was stuck on yours.
“Old ass skank,” you heard her whisper under her breath. From the hand on your arm and the furrowing of his brow you knew Spencer had as well.
“I'm sorry, what was that, Miss….?”
“Hmm? I'm sure I didn't say anything, Doctor Y/L/N.”
“You-” Spencer began but you silenced him with a hand on his chest.
Her gaze flicked to it, and she grew redder in the face, as if she were truly angry at this development. Interesting.
“Spencer,” you span around, totally ignoring the student now, wrapping your arms up and around his neck. He blinked in confusion once and then twice and hesitated, but let his hands land on your waist.
“It really is so urgent that we speak. Alone. I wouldn't want your precious students hearing anything I have to say to you.” You leaned in closer for the last words, letting your voice flow like honey, neatly seductive as you did your best to remind the student of her place.
Which was as far from a professor's bed as possible.
“She's just leaving, Y/N,” he whispered, equally as breathy as you, if not more. He didn't bother a glance over your shoulder to check, though, keeping his eyes on you as if you were a tiger preparing to pounce on him at any second.
The student grabbed her things and huffed out the door. As soon as the thing was shut, you pulled the blinds totally shut and detangled yourself from Spencer completely, giving yourself a wide berth after bringing yourself so close.
You hadn't realized how long and pretty his eyelashes were until you forced yourself to look at him, how nice his eyes were. The image of them burned into your brain - jealousy, probably. Men always had the best natural eyelashes. It was incredibly unfair.
“What the fuck was that?” You whispered, trying to contain your laugh as you knew the walls here were anything but soundproof.
“Shh,” he hissed, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the remaining undergrads outside start talking. They obviously hadn't got the memo.
“Is this an official FBI strategy?” You teased.
“Shut up, would you? They're talking about us.”
You found yourself all of a sudden pressed against the door next to him, trying to listen in on the conversation outside.
“So it's true? He's really screwing her?” You slapped a hand over your mouth, both from shock and to stop the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest from jumping out. The girl sounded distraught. She sounded absolutely heartbroken. "The coffees every morning were suspicious, and they're always in the office so wrapped up with each other, but I didn't think they were seriously screwing."
“No wonder she was giving us dirty looks earlier,” the other girl whispered back.
“I heard he got her the job here. Pulled some strings, you know. And then, when it didn't look so suspicious, he started and asked for the shared office.”
“Gross! Total nepo hire!”
“No, Tiff, Nepo is when your parents get you the job. What she's doing is just called being a whore.”
Your mouth grew dry, and you pushed back off the wall, suddenly uninterested in anything else the girls had to say.
“Y/N…” Spencer took a sympathetic step your way, offering you an awkward smile as you started busying yourself organizing books.
“Nothing I haven't heard before, Spencer, don't bother,” you said, throwing some papers into your briefcase and keeping your hands moving.
“Though I will say they're getting more creative with their back stories since I have been working here half a year longer than you.”
He watched you work around the office, picking up items and tidying them away as you made a line of tidiness through the chaos of your desk.
“Do you think they all think that?” You asked, curiosity somehow piqued.
“That I got you the job?”
“That we’re screwing,” you said, finally turning to face him.
But the movement was a mistake - you hadn't heard him step closer, so as you turned his face was directly in front of yours, his nose practically touching your own as he looked down at you. It was enough so that the sharp intake of breath you took smelt like him, like he'd wrapped himself around your body and kept you there.
“Do you think they think we're screwing?” He asked, meaning to move away, or at least give you the space for you to do so.
“It doesn't matter to me what other people think,” you smiled up at him. “Because I wouldn't touch you with a tensed foot pole.”
You're thinking about the comment well into the evening, right until the moment your head hits the pillow.
You're thinking about the way his eyes dropped to your lips when you said those words, how he stepped closer and closer until you were backed up against the door.
“You were fine touching me earlier, Y/N. What is it now that makes it unappealing?” He whispered into your ear.
A hand came to your waist as your breath hitched.
“Is it the goosebumps I leave on your skin?” His hand pressed harder as it rose up to your chest. You gasped as he took one of your breasts in his hand, fondling it.
“Is it the way your heart beats uncomfortably hard when I'm close?”
His hand dropped again, falling down the plains of your stomach until he was stroking along the top of your pants, begging for entry.
“Or is it the way I make your cunt wet? It must be so hard pretending to hate me when you want my fingers stuffed inside of you.”
You gasped, but your tongue suddenly didn't work, as he slipped past your pants and his fingers were suddenly on your underwear, grinding the pads of his fingers against your slick pussy.
“You dont have to answer, I think I can tell just from feeling this. Shit, Y/N, I could probably slip into you right now with no resistance,” his fingers pushed inside of you as you gripped his arm for support. It was stronger than you expected, rigid as he tensed his arm.
You let him use your body, aware of your soft sighs and moans as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
His hands were inside you, then they pulled out, and somewhere in between his fingers and his cock filling you, you'd been pressed against the bookshelf, facing it and grabbing at the shelves for stability as he made good on his promise and pushed right into you without a care in the world.
“Spenc-Spencer, the books-”
“You know the books aren't a problem, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear as he pumped deep inside of you.
But the books were a problem, and they fell to the floor with each rough thrust, vibrating as they landed.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buz-
Your eyes shot open the next day, and you jolted out of your slumber, a pillow between your legs as you tried to find your release squirming and humping against it. You reached out for your vibration phone alarm, switching it off quickly to avoid the memory of those falling books from your fast fading dream.
Spencer hadn't touched you in that office. He'd taken your comment at face value and let you leave for your class, but it had stuck in your head.
You'd spent the entire night thinking about his hands on you, and you were entirely uncomfortable with the conclusion you were drawing.
Because now, you supposed, you'd quite enjoy the idea of Spencer Reid touching you wherever he damn well pleased.
🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise
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catcze · 7 months
Note
not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea
fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it
(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)
OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!
(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.
Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."
And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.
"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.
Your eyes narrow.
Probably.
He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."
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The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.
Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.
"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.
You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.
Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.
"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.
"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.
"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.
Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.
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But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.
Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.
Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.
But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.
Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.
"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.
"... generally, yes."
You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."
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Translations:
Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much
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temiizpalace · 10 days
Note
Ahhh ok I love your page so far and this is my first time making an ask so I hope it’s ok. I’ve been craving a little drama for a bit and I had this idea a bit ago and I just wanted to share it :)
Cater, Leona, Riddle taking their s/o home for a Holliday/school break. Reader is sweet & respectful but isn’t afraid to put someone in their place, even royalty. A lil bit of fluff at the end would also be nice. You have creative liberty, it’s your story after all :) don’t forget to eat and drink water, and feel free to ignore this if you want <3
☆┆KNOW YOUR PLACE!
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SUMMARY: your partner takes you to his hometown for the break, but you run into someone who thinks they’re a head above the rest..
CHARACTERS: RIDDLE, CATER, LEONA
GENRE: fluff
ROMANTIC
WARNINGS: people are asses
NOTES: i love this idea!! it was a lot of fun to write and i appreciate the request 🫶🫶 hopefully this was up to your standards and you enjoy!
reader is g/n, implied to be yuu
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🌹┆RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
“are you sure you’re okay with this..?”
riddle asks hesitantly, standing by the mirror as he fiddled with his fingers. since you had no place to go to over the break, riddle had invited you to his hometown. granted, he was quite nervous in asking you thanks to the relationship with his mother, but the excitement was immeasurable once you agreed to join him.
“of course i am.” you smile, taking his hand gently. “i understand how difficult it is for you to go back, so i want to be there with you.” riddle blushes at your words of kindness, unused to such affections (especially at NRC). he clears his throat and squeezes your hand. “i-if you insist.. we best be on our way then. mother expects us to be there by 8:30 on the dot.”
riddle leads you into the mirror, holding your hand the whole way through. as you stepped into the queendom of roses, you take in the breathtaking sights of the small village in front of you. “i live close by, have you gotten your gift prepared?” he asks, strolling past the various shops and bakeries.
you pause in your tracks, tensing up at the question. “we needed gifts..?” you ask, feeling part of your soul leave your body. riddle stares at you with a dumbfounded expression, utterly shocked at the fact you had come unprepared. he sighs, taking a deep breath. “thank goodness we’re by the shops. on any other occasion i would have your head..” he mumbles, causing you to awkwardly laugh and walk inside the store.
it was a small store selling small things, like purses. however, it’s not the expensive name brand purses that’d cost both your arms, it was cute and little cozy handmade bags that screamed home just by looking at them. you were in awe at the intricate stitches made onto the bag, not to mention impressed by such a simple design. “do you think your mother would like this?”
riddle turned to look at the bag, examining it thoroughly for any rips, tears, or stains. he smiles softly before nodding, holding it up to get another proper look. “i’m sure she’ll love it..”
as you both walk over to the line, chatting away at what you both were going to do on your visit, you had accidentally bumped into a woman covered in jewelry and what seemed to be designer clothing. you can see where this is going, right?
“ah, im sorry.” you quickly apologize. the woman gasps offendedly, looking over to where you had bumped into her. “excuse me? do you know what you just did? you had just RUINED my new designer jacket.” she exclaims, putting the fur jacket near your face. “do you know how much this had cost me? how do you expect to clean this up?”
riddle’s eyebrow twitched, staring at the supposed mark you had left. there wasn’t even a trace of such thing, she was just lying to make extra cash. “actually, i think you had bumped into them.” he answers, trying to be as calm as he physically can. “i wasn’t talking to you, little girl. buzz off.” she angrily glared at riddle before shifting her attention back to you.
as you glanced back at riddle, you could see him seething with anger. he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, not to mention his face was completely red. “ma’am, i in no way have damaged your jacket. you had bumped into me, and what you had said was uncalled for. please do not talk to us again, we are done here.”
you walk away, squeezing riddle’s hand as a way to calm down, but the woman wouldn’t give up. “how dare you defy me.. you little brats!” she grabbed onto your shoulder, trying to pull you back. instinctively, riddle drew his magic pen, but you signaled him not to use it. you push the woman off your shoulder and look at her with disgust laced in your eyes.
“don’t EVER lay your hands on me like that. do that again and i’ll be more than happy to call the authorities.” you had raised your voice, the entire shop looking at the scene. as the woman looks around, she mumbles something before leaving the store. you sigh, not expecting such ignorance from people so soon. “i’m sorry about that, riddle.”
“no, you didn’t do anything. i could’ve used my unique magic on a civilian if you hadn’t stopped me..” he murmurs the end part, but smiles at you nonetheless. “are you going to be alright?” he asks, caressing your cheek. “yeah, ill be fine. it wasn’t anything serious.” you smile back at him, feeling a ray of sun hit both of your figures in the middle of the shop.
“now cmon, let’s purchase this gift for your mother and get outta here.” you laugh, taking his hand and pulling him toward the register.
“..yeah.”
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🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
“why’d you have to tag along..”
leona grumbles, leading you up to his room for your stay. “because i know you’d skip out on the dinner if i didn’t.” you retort, knowing damn well he appreciates your company.
“pssh.. why does that bother ya?” he murmurs as he opens the door for you like a gentlemen, despite his contradicting remarks. “no reason, i just want you to show more respect for your family is all.” you mention, walking into the large room. it was definitely bigger than his dormitory, and arguably larger than all of ramshackle. but it was nice.
“..do what you want. settle in, im takin’ a nap.” leona strides over to his bed, yawning while stretching his arms. you frown at him as he turns his back to you, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. leona lets out a surprised grunt before facing you with a scowl. “what the hell was that for-“ he starts before looking at your piercing gaze.
“you’re getting ready for dinner. now.” you demand, standing your ground. he stares at you, no longer having a snarky comment to each word you say. he clicks his tongue before grabbing a nearby outfit and changing in the bathroom. he gave up easier than expected, but at least that means less work for you. speaking of which, you decide to get ready yourself in preparation for the night.
sitting at the table, tensions were high. you expected it just to be leona’s family, but it appears to be a whole system of royals lined up inside the palace. even leona himself was shocked, but he also wasn’t one to keep up on his family events..
the dining hall was incredibly loud. sounds of laughter, bickering, and natural conversation can be heard from every corner. “told ya you shouldn’t have attended.” leona whispers, causing you to raise a brow. “it’s crowded, but i know you’re just trying to find an excuse to leave.”
he frowns before picking at the lettuce on his plate. “you should eat that.” you comment, seeing as the entire steak was gone but the salad was practically untouched (not including him picking at it). “hm? wanna eat it for me instead?” he smirks, about to push the salad onto your dish.
“no way!” you laugh keeping the plate away from him. the night continues, playful laughter exchanges between you both. suddenly, the banter comes to a stop when leona was bumped on the shoulder, and it wasn’t on accident. a snobby looking royal looks back and gives leona a disgusted look.
“my mistake, kingscholar. I didn’t realize second-sons were invited to such a grand event.” the royal chuckles, expecting a groundbreaking reaction from leona. all leona did was furrow his brow before speaking. “yeah well here i am in all my glory. now put a sock in it and get lost.”
the royal flinches, changing the subject to you. “and who might this be? a partner of yours? i had not realized you had one. i never thought you’d get one with such a nasty scar and attitude..”
leona scowls, clenching his fists before suddenly feeling your hand atop if it. “i believe you should show more manners. he may not be king, but he’s royalty just as you are. if you just came to bother him with disrespectful remarks, then i think it’s best you just leave us alone.” you state, leona’s cheeks turning a slightly darker shade.
“who are you to tell me this? you don’t look like royalty, not to mention you reek of no magic. you too attend night raven college don’t you?” he continues, causing your blood to boil. “were you too rejected from royal sword academy? how saddening it is to see.”
you want to punch him, and want to punch him bad. however, you contained yourself and decided to respond respectfully. “acting so snobbish is much more saddening. if royals like you are ruling kingdoms, then i fear its only a matter of time before it falls thanks to a poor king. how about you get your act together and show respect to your peers.” maybe it was a little less respectful than you thought.
“tch. this is not the last of me, kingscholar.” the royal gives up, walking away from the two of you. you smile, looking back at leona, who was a little flustered as you came to his rescue. “i didnt need you to defend me.” he murmurs before averting his eyes to the side. you open your mouth to speak, but get cut off as he suddenly ruffled your hair. “but you got guts.”
you knew this was his way of saying thank you. you laugh. unsure as to why, but something about his awkward ways with affection were definitely charming. “what’s so funny?” he asks, lifting his hand and raising a brow. “ahh, it’s nothing.”
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♦️┆CATER DIAMOND
“i have so many things for magicam now!”
cater exclaims, laying out his new props and figures onto the table. after he insisted on you joining him to his hometown, cater took you on a date across town so you can see all the wonderful places the Shaftlands has to offer. you smiled as he already began to take pictures, not hesitating to join in. “they’re adorable, cater! i really like this figure right here.”
you picked up said figure and smiled admiringly at it. cater took in your expression, feeling entranced before snapping out of it. “welll, if you like it so much you can have it!” he exclaims, causing you to shake your head. “no, no! you bought it, it’s yours. i just thought it was nice is all.” you protested, but he wasn’t going down easily.
“well i’d do anything to make my partner happy, so if you like it, it’s yours. no take backs ☆!” he giggles, causing you to pause. “..thank you, cater.” you flash him a smile before watching him take out his phone for a quick photo. with little to no time to react, he had already snapped a photo of you with a huge grin on your face. “hm.. you’re so photogenic, yknow?”
you feel your cheeks get warm at his words, but you came to your senses once you realized you both were in public. “we should pack up the things and get ready to go.” you suggest, cater already being a step ahead of you by packing everything back into its packaging and bag.
a man walks oddly close to the table, but you had decided not to question it. suddenly, in a swift movement one of the expensive props were gone, the man dashing away. “HEY!” you shout, cater looking at you with a look of confusion. “[MC]? is someth— WOAH!” before he could finish, you sprinted towards the thief. the culprit looks back, seeing your angry and annoyed face before turning forward.
“shit..” he mutters trying to pick up the pace. cater follows behind you, feeling tired from running and carrying the bags. “S-SLOW DOWN!” he shouts, but you had one goal in mind. you charged at the mystery thief, a yelp escaping him as he hit the concrete floor. “Give it back.” you stated sternly, pinning his hands behind his back and keeping him in place.
cater catches up, running out of breath as he walked towards you. “hey, what was that about— WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” the culprit struggles, trying to get up off the ground. “LET GO OF ME, FREAK! I DIDN’T DO NOTHING!” you furrowed a brow at him before grabbing the loose stolen item off the ground. “don’t lie. you tried stealing from us. i’m reporting you to police so no poor soul has to deal with you.”
cater looks at you with a puzzled expression before realizing one of his props WERE missing. “i guess i’ll call police then..?” cater awkwardly adds, pulling out his phone to dial the number.
the police eventually show up, taking in the culprit to discover this has happened more than once. he sells these stolen goods for drugs. cater looks at you, a hint of admiration and a little fear could be seen in the glint of his eyes. “hm?” you hum, noticing his staring.
“remind me not to ever steal from you.” he states, replaying the scene back in his head. “you didn’t need to tackle him, it was just one figure!” you shrug before taking his hand in yours gently. “i guess i didn’t want him stealing from you. especially since it was one of the more expensive props.”
“..you’re such an angel.” he states with a look of awe, causing you to laugh. “definitely not, but thank you.” suddenly, an arm pulls you in. your arm comes into contact with caters as he leans in and snaps a quick selfie of you two. he adds the caption before hearing your phone get a notification.
it reads: “my heroic partner ❤️❤️❤️”
you feel your heart beginning to beat faster and your stomach starting to do backflips. just cater doing the bare minimum was enough for you to feel this way. “isn’t it perfect?” he asks, chuckling as you get pulled out of the trance. “..yeah.”
“i like you being my hero.” he smiles, planting a quick kiss on your cheek before tugging your hand. “now cmon, i know this totally adorbs café on the next block and i’ve been dying to take you!”
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A/N: WRITERS BLOCK ABSOLUTELY KILLED ME WITH THIS ONE, NOT TO MENTION THE EXAMS UGGGGHHHH
date published: 5/12/24
© temiizpalace — don’t steal or copy my work!
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yxami · 10 months
Text
Fighting the urge to not write a quiet hybrid guy and I failed
description: yandere octopus hybrid x gn merperson reader, getting trapped in his trap, him tasting you, umm idk what else, also normally I stick to facts about the animals I write as hybrids but I changed some stuff about him like his tongue being soft bc would it be hot if a sandpaper tongue was licking u? LMAOO
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Kioshi was a sea creature, an octopus and you’re just a random merperson who happened to run into his sticky trap that was intended for prey. So he’s just scanning you at every angle available to him, swiftly swimming around to see if you were going to be a problem to deal with.
He never really interacted with any merfolk before so your silent empty stare confused him enough to mentally ask himself questions. Was he supposed to let you out? Could he eat you? Were you tasty?
The curious octopus wrapped his arms around you, the suckers on his tentacles staying in one place with the grip they had on your body. Was he tasting you?? What was this weird octopus guy doing!!
“Hello?? What are you doing” You glared at his tentacles that sneaked their way through his own kelp trap to touch and stick on you. It was almost like he was trying to sample you, to see if you could be his dinner tonight.
He quietly hummed, pondering if you were even edible. You tasted.. fishy. It would be ironic for merfolk not to have a salty taste to them. What did he expect after all? The two of you were in the ocean for crying out loud!
“You taste weird, can you even fit in my mouth” Kioshi opened his mouth, his fangs and 2 rows of teeth showing brightly. The vibrant pink tongue that slipped out his mouth looked long and soft. He apparently had no shame in showing his interest to eat you.
“I’m a merperson! And no you can’t eat me! I wouldn’t go up to you and ask if I could eat you” The hiss that left your lips and confidence had him more intrigued than before.
He disassembled his kelp trap with a tug of one of the kelp that wrapped around a nearby giant rock. Once you were let free you stretched, liking how much freedom you had now. It almost pissed you off remembering that you were in there for the entirety of this conversation.
“I’ll give you some shiny pearls if you keep letting me taste you” Kioshi dug in a pouch he carried around his waist, scooping out a few beautiful pink pearls that made your eyes shimmer with adoration. You were always a sucker for pretty things, every merperson was!
“Fine” You mumbled, sitting on a rock, your soft hands holding onto it as a handle while he wrapped his tentacles around you. He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in you, yeah he doesn’t see merfolk often but you peaked his interest for another reason. One that he was clueless about as well.
But he doesn’t try to fret over it, when he likes something, he takes it for himself. And you were pretty, really pretty. Your scales provided a glistening view, the sun helping accentuate the natural shine they had. Each scale was shiny and bright, he loved shiny things. Maybe you were meant to be his little treasure to take home!
You obediently sat while he seemed lost in thought, wrapping his sneaky tentacles around you, every sucker providing a squishy suction on your skin, almost felt like kisses running along your torso and arms. You could even feel his breath on your neck while he seemed to taste you there with his mouth. You pondered whether he would leave marks or not.
“You taste nice” Kioshi murmured, causing marks around your waist and chest.
“Well there’s that answer” You mentally said to yourself, looking down at the almost identical looking hickey marks on your body after his tentacles slipped away. He must’ve been too focused on tasting you to be gentle.
“Sorry..” He whispered, putting his tongue against your stomach’s skin to lick at the marks. You jumped at the feeling with a flustered expression, his hands rested around your hips while he continued.
“I think they’ll fade on their own.. You don’t have to lick them!” You bit your lip, trying to hold in the whimper you were about to let out from the strange sensation of his tongue running along your stomach.
“Oh.. okay. I’ll pay attention more next time” He blinked with no embarrassment that he shamelessly licked and tasted your skin. He sat next to you, leaning against your side, watching fish run around and play.
Next time? There was going to be a next time? You thought to yourself, wondering why he was so confident yet so nonchalant with his words that it just seemed natural to slip from his lips.
Kioshi pondered, trying to think of something else to say. He didn’t want to end the conversation here, he liked this interaction, even if it was just a trade between the two of you. Your flustered reactions and looks made him smile when you weren’t looking. He liked you already.
“So, I’ve never seen you here. Are you just passing through this area?” He faced you, observing your deep colored eyes compared to the bright waters around the two of you.
“Nah, I live around here, I just don’t usually wander off too far from my cave” You explained as you stared at his veiny hands that pressed down against the smooth rock. He seemed interested enough in your words to lean closer, his eyes scanning yours and especially at your lips.
“Huh, that’s cool” He softly said, wanting to say more but unsure of what. Should he ask if he could visit you sometime? Maybe offer to show you his cave? He wanted to ask something but his mind couldn’t set on a thought, causing you to speak after a few moments.
“So, what about you? Where do you live?” You yawned, making sure you weren’t out too late by looking at the sun that was close to set. It would be bad if you were out when the moon was down. You never got used to all the creatures that would appear in the dark waves that strolled by. It gave you goosebumps just thinking of the strange faces.
“Right over there, I don’t set my trap up too far incase it’s something big” Kioshi let out a small giggle, the fact you were in his trap today and definitely bigger than the average fish he expected made it more funny.
“Must’ve lucked out today then huh?” You playfully rolled your eyes at him laughing at his words.
“Mhm” He grinned, adding in a nod as well while he spoke. “How about I treat you to some food since I captured you?” He casually offered, as if he wasn’t trying to rack his brain about how to word it before. He wasn’t that good with speaking with others, never really interacted with other creatures in the first place, until now!
“Sure, you totally owe me after-all” You smiled, hopping off the rock to swim in-front of him. He got off the almost cliff looking rock as well and started leading you to his place. Not that far, just like he said. When the two of you closed the distance between his home you observed how nicely decorated it was. Lots of shiny things in a wooden chest he had, a soft looking bed and cute trinkets placed along the walls. It was big so the fact that he filled it up nicely was impressing.
“How about some crab?” He said, poking at the live crabs he had in another slightly different trap, the knots and twists being almost identical to the one you were in. He seemed to use traps to catch all his food instead of chasing it himself.
“Sure! How are you gonna cook it?” You asked curious, swimming around him in circles to see what he was doing. You were able to witness him grabbing the trap brimming with crabs and bringing them up to the end of the cave, there you were able to see that the roof went further up. He seemed to almost disappear after climbing up onto something.
You popped your head up the water to see this was his kitchen area, it had pots and pans hanging on hooks and a small dinner table with a few seats. His place was bigger than you imagined, it had an area with no water that connected to the ocean after-all.
“Gonna boil them?” You looked curiously at him grabbing a pot and sliding over back to the large opening in the floor to the rest of his home, collecting ocean water in it. “Yup” Kioshi softly said, putting the pot down on a metal grill. He seemed to have lots of kitchen supplies, it made your curious to whether he stole it from humans.
You had your own little collection stolen from humans but definitely not a entire room’s worth, not yet anyways. You were curious enough to want to ask Kioshi more questions about him, but decided not to.
The boiled crabs poured into a glass bowl in-front of you made you drool almost instinctively, as if you’ve always known his cooking. You stared at the bowl first, noticing that it was expensive looking and had cracks, he must’ve glued it back together.
He sat down in front of you, pondering on why you were staring at the bowl instead of the cooked crabs you could be eating, was it not appetizing? Should he cook something else? He twiddled his thumbs against each other while trying to think of whether he should speak up.
Kioshi opened his mouth to speak but you paused the words from leaving his mouth with a happy hum. “It’s so good!!!” You muffled with crab meat in your mouth, once you managed to chew and swallow a few more pieces.
“Thanks Kioshi! You’re so good at cooking” You cleared your throat, looking up at him with another opened crab leg.
“No problem” He mumbled, feeling his face heat up. He wasn’t sure why he had the sudden urge to keep you in his cave forever, for you to become his mate and be devoted to him as he would with you. Maybe it was because he didn’t have one yet, or possibly because you were perfect for him.
He’d find a way to keep you here, whether that would be pearls, his cooking, or anything he could possibly steal from humans, he’d do it.
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pauli-writes · 2 months
Note
Could I request Aventurine not so subtly demanding affection from his s/o?
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warning: lots of kisses, suggestive content?
pairing: aventurine x reader
author’s note: i guess i’m the aventurine gal now. thank you for the request, i didn’t really know what to do with it at first so i hope you enjoy the direction i took (ALSO I HAVENT FINISHED THE 2.1 STORY QUEST YET DON’T SPOIL ME PLS)
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“reader, can you come to my office?” was the first thing you heard once you answered your phone, not even a hello, how are you? straight away he goes about commanding you around as if he was your superior, which he technically was, but that’s not the point.
you picked up your paperwork and put the phone in between your ear and your shoulder as you wandered the lower hallways of the ipc headquarters. “what do you need?”
“you.”
“aventurine…” you replied annoyed. he had a habit of calling you during a work day for no reason, but to play around with you. it was charming at times, but most often than not was annoying since you weren’t in such a high position at the ipc that you could afford slaking off for any period of time.
“i’m bored and i happen to know you have a free schedule too.”
you held back a sarcastic remark, of course he knew your schedule, topaz probably told him. “yeah, okay, but your office is sooo high up.”
“i’ll repay you~” he said in a sing song voice, making you let out a tired sigh.
“in what?”
“whatever you want~” he answered in that same silky sweet tone, that has so many people wrapped around his finger.
“okay, i’ll be there in a minute.” it was never about his gifts, but you knew if you didn’t agree to meet him he’d never relent. and so you began you treacherous way to the elevator, that would bring you all the way to aventurine’s office. he had one of the nicer office spaces in ipc, no surprise there, but you hated making the trip from your lousy office to his fancy one.
you knocked twice (your secret signal to tell him it was you) and walked into his office and were immediately grabbed by the waist and pulled into him. “come here.”
he sat you on his lap, as he sat in his very nice office chair behind his imposing desk. he tightly wrapped his arms around your waist, and started peppering your face and neck with quick kisses, making you giggle. he never lingered on one spot for too long, leaving you overwhelmed with sensations.
“what’s up with you?” you asked curiously as he readjusted his hold on you. aventurine was touchy at times, but this seemed more than that.
he only smiled, continuing to press kisses on your neck and collarbone. “just missing your company, is that a crime?”
“no-“
“good.”
he continued his assault of kisses, not that you minded of course. aventurine knew when you had enough, despite his flippant attitude, he was respectful of your boundaries and feelings. so, you let out a breath and leaned back, your head resting against his chest and savoured the feeling of his undivided attention on your.
although as you adjusted your position you spotted something on his desk. “oh, you’re heading to penacony tomorrow?”
you felt him pause for a fraction of a moment, before ignoring your question and continuing to kiss you. you sighed, turning around to face him and cupping his face in your hands. “aventurine. i asked you something.”
“oh, it’s nothing important,” he replied, taking your hand from his cheek and giving it a shallow kiss. “i’ll be back before you know it.”
“yeah, but-“
“no buts, only kisses.” he gave you a kiss on your nose, almost making you giggle again.
“you are going alone,” you said, trying to stay on topic, “that worries me a little.”
aventurine only laughed, waving off your concern as his hands moved up and down on your body. “i won’t be alone, the doctor will be there.”
“that does not reassure me. what if- Ow!” he had given you a small bite on your neck, cutting you off. it didn’t particularly hurt, but surprised you nonetheless.
as you stopped talking he cupped your face in his hands, making you look at him and straight into his colourful eyes. “stop worrying. don’t you trust me?”
you nodded, there was no one you trusted more in the ipc. “i do.”
“good,” he let go of your face and gave you a quick peck on your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away. “now how about we have lunch together? it’s my treat as always.”
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sports-on-sundays · 6 months
Text
people change / CL16 / Part 1
Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.
Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)
Requested?: No.
Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3
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"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"
"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."
"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.
"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."
You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."
Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"
"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.
He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.
"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.
The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."
"What do you say?"
"Please!" he pouts.
You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.
The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.
When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.
You sigh, feeling worried.
Did...
Did Charles do something?
Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.
"Dinnertime, love!"
Silence.
"Love?"
"I'm not hungry!"
You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"
Silence. Again.
You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.
Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?
"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."
The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"
It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.
"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"
"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?
Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."
You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."
"But Daddy told me not to."
You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.
You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"
"Tell Daddy what?"
"What I'm gonna tell you."
You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."
He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."
You try not to tremble.
Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.
Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.
Why can't he just let go?
You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.
Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"
And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.
Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.
And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.
Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.
But in the same way, you don't either.
Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."
There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.
Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."
"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.
"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"
"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"
All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"
"Of course, Y/n. I-"
You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.
But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"
At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.
When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."
"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."
"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.
"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.
"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.
"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.
And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"
There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."
"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.
Years ago.
Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.
You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.
Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.
The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?
Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.
He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.
He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.
He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.
Or so you thought.
You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.
Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'
Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.
When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"
Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"
"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."
"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."
"Charles, do you still love me?"
He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."
"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"
He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"
"What did you just call me?"
He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."
You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"
He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."
You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.
But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...
"I would do anything for this to work."
Another tear falls.
"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."
He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.
"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...
"Y/n, people change."
Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3
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galaxysugarr · 4 months
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Hi All! I thought it was time i gave a lil update from this game and how its been going.
I'm one that tends to keep to myself till a project is fully complete or close to complete, but I've gained a lot of asks about this over time and more as of late lol. So thought I'd cut the radio silence a tad and answer a few repeat questions id gotten!
Are you working on the game?
Surprisingly, yeah.
Will this be a completed game to buy?
Definitely not, least not now. My plan is to make a basic demo of the game as building a complete game with the script and everything would take a very long time and a lot to learn!
It would also be a free to play game, as Its a fan game.
When can we see it, are you almost done, videos and updates!!!
Well... 2023 was a busy year for me personally. And as a person who is still learning to animate along with barely any knowledge of game coding. Led to me needing to learn a lot and do trial and error.
A lot of things are temporary placeholders and incomplete textures with testing. So I didn't feel they where good to share progress of.
a lot of it was me learning, trying different styles to work with the game, and sketches throughout.
Can i help with the project????
I do appreciate you all asking for help,But I don't know much about game development and working with a team on this. So it's more of a passion project for me, and so far what I have learned has been nice :>.
I didn't wanna rely and give up on the project or delay it so much due to factors so I'm workin on it alone right now till the project is farther along and more stable.
Will it look exactly like the trailer, what kind of game is it, what all do you have planned for the demo?
Admittedly I had originally made sprites and everything to match the video, but i ended up going for a more chibi type style as its easier to work with.
Its a side scrolling game with rpg like elements.
The current plan is to have two fully completed stages, a mini game, 4 playable characters (2 being Sun and Moon), and some extra features.
Will the demo be out this year?
I can't say, it all depends on how much time i work on it and learn ;o! I don't like to get hopes up, but I work it on it when I can.
Crumbs, please
Some of the daycare and model updates. It's not much, but I find it fun to run around and interact with things lol
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So all and all for those really wondering about the project, its still a heavy work in progress. A fun and frustrating one for sure, but Its been nice actually learning to code and design it so far.
Hope this answered a few questions and of course you can ask other stuff about it, I don't mind.
Thank you!
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sadbenedict · 3 months
Note
About the basement au 2 questions here
1.Will geto eventually be free from gojo and the basement?
2. Will gojo ever realize what he's doing is wrong?
thank you for all questions!! I haven't had time to do sketches yet, but I'm finally a little free today! sorry for the waiting!!!! o(TヘTo)
well, I don't think in my version he can get out, maybe something will happen to him, but I won't have a happy ending, it's a pretty dark story
maybe, but it'll be too late to retreat
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from @mushroomslime0
If itadori somehow managed to help Geto escape what’s the first thing geto would do?
maybe try and find his girls, I think he'll do it without a second thought. maybe he won't believe that Gojo really let them live.
from @myssteriouss-wanderrerr
What do you think would happen if Suguru did reach his breaking point? Or if he psychologically collapsed and Satoru's threat against the twins no longer works on him?
Interesting question, this even as I think it could be one of the endings. I think Gojo will be horrified and gradually realise that he's losing control of Suguru. He'll be pushing him harder and harder, looking for weaknesses. I think Gojo will descend into even more despair, realising that his Suguru will never come back to him again
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from @b3achysurfer
how does geto feel about shoko visiting? is he upset that she doesn’t help free him? how often does shoko visit and are they supervised by gojo? (I think u mentioned shoko visiting when gojo can’t in a past post but if she doesn’t then js ignore this 😭)
I think he realises why Shoko isn't helping him, if Gojo finds out it would be bad not only for Suguru but also for Shoko herself. She visits him to check on his health and just to ☆brighten up☆ the loneliness when Gojo is away on a mission for too long. She warns Gojo about her visits, but I think he'd know that anyway
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from @gyutar0s
hi there !! I came across ur art a few months ago n I absolutely love your art style !! a question about the basement au– does suguru hold some sort of love for satoru still, even after satoru puts him through this ? or does he hold some sort of anger towards his one and only ?
Thank you!! I've answered a similar question before, you can search by hashtag :D! In short, he feels some love for his Gojo, but it is lost under resentment and anger
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pomefioredove · 26 days
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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cherry-bomb-ships · 4 months
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Hello everyone! Welcome to our Valentine's Week mini Self Ship event!
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Pr*sh//ip please dni
From February 12th to the 18th, I'd like to invite you all to participate in a self ship event all about love! This is meant to be a low-effort, laid-back event where the hardest thing you'll probably have to do is interact with other people 😅 Each day will have a different theme for every type of f/o and self shipper! The themed days are listed below:
February 12th - Familial F/o Day! This day will be all about focusing on your familial f/os! Parents, siblings, kids, or any other character you consider part of your family. ❤️❤️
February 13th - Platonic F/o Day! This day is dedicated to all our fictional besties!! Give some appreciation to the f/os that are there for a good laugh and a shoulder to cry on. 💛💛
February 14th- Romantic F/o Day! Of course, Valentine's Day itself will be dedicated to the special f/os in our lives who are there for us through thick and thin. Our f/os love us every day and we love them, but we'll give them extra love today! 🩷🩷
February 15th - Self Love Day! Sure, it can be argued that all of self ship is a form of self love, but I really want us all to focus on it today, by thinking about and maybe even listing out the things that our f/os would especially love about us. 💝💝
February 16th - February 18th - F/o Takeover & Letter Writing Weekend! This one is a bit of a player's choice; option one, an f/o takeover! Y'all know the drill on that one by now, let your f/os of choice answer questions on your blog for the weekend. ❤️ Option two, for those not into takeovers, is to spend the weekend writing love letters to your f/os! They can be as short or long as you like, while also making as few or as many as you'd want to. I'd also like to highly encourage sending out f/o letters to your fellow self shippers from their own f/os! ❤️
There we have it! That's our weekend, laid out in its entirety. However, these are more guidelines than strict rules. You can really run the week any way you like, as long as you're enjoying yourself!
I would also like to add that this month, for those who don't know, is Black History Month, so while you focus on your ships, don't forget to show some love to my black brothers and sisters in the self ship community as well! 🧡🧡🧡
I'll have some more suggestions on things to do below the cut, but I'll end it here up top, because this is long enough as it is. Feel free to reblog to get the word around, and for just one week, let's only think about love. ❤️💝🥺💝❤️
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Now then, here are some suggestions on things to do over the week on our themed f/o days:
For our creative types, you could create some art and doodles, writing and drabbles, gifs, screenshots, or any other type of content for your f/os of the day.
For those who want a more chill experience, just some good ol' gushing will work perfect! I'll also be trying to make some short ask games full of questions for each themed day.
For the self-love day in the 15th, I highly encourage everyone to make a list of things that their f/os love about them. Of course not everything is always perfect, so if you'd like, you can also talk about your flaws and the way that your f/os would still love you with them. I don't wanna see any self deprecation though, because I know all of you are much more wonderful than you may think! ❤️❤️
Lastly, for the weekend, as I said earlier I would love to see people sending out letters to other self shippers. If anyone remembers the To My S/i events from a few years back, as much as I would love to run an event like that, I know that's setting some people up for disappointment when they don't receive any letters, so I want it to be something that's encouraged but not expected. That being said, it's still highly encouraged! Even if you're worried about how accurately you may write someone's f/o, I believe you should still give it a try anyway! 💝💝💝
That's about all the suggestions I have, except for this last one: while this week is about love for our f/os, I still wanna see love for our fellow self shippers with plenty of interaction going around, even something as small as a reblog or question sent for an ask game makes a big difference! And remember, just like the New Radicals said, "you only get what you give."
If you're reading this far, then thank you! Go ahead and throw a "btw my f/os love me" into your tags to let me know you got this far. I hope everyone enjoys the event!! 🩷❤️💝❤️🩷
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dxstopiaa · 1 year
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hey hey! could i request zhongli, cyno, and tighnari with a hypersexual s/o who is actually pretty ashamed, so when they finish, they wait till theyre asleep and starts breaking down bawling their eyes out. this is kinda deep but i js want some comfort at the same time. if this is too deep or dark feel free to not do it 🫶🫶🫶
characters: zhongli, tighnari and cyno x hypersexual! gn! reader.
warnings: nsfw elements! hurt/comfort [dont worry at all anon <3 if this is something you experience, you should never feel ashamed]
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zhongli
❥ That feeling was there again— the one of guilt and shame you couldn’t eradicate no matter what you told yourself. Your husband’s thick cum still coated your thighs, not daring to move nor clean it up in fear of waking him beside you.
❥ You truly envied him. Zhongli slept peacefully with arms snaked around your bare waist, not a worry present. He loved you, you knew that, yet a tide of disgust wavered over your shivering body. It retreated in the form of hot flashes, returning upon each dreadful thought that went too long considered.
❥ His forearms, dangerously close to the tears accumulating at your jaw, embraced you so gently. You were too lost in the depths of your shame to realise your sobs had grown louder, grasping onto your lover’s hands for any sort of comfort.
❥ “My darling? What has you so distraught?” Zhongli’s husky voice whispered into your ear, not doing much except influencing the developing streams of saltwater across your cheeks. Your lack of response frightened him greatly, feeling his weight shift against the head board.
❥ “Please answer me, dearest?” His heart pumped with agony at your strings of broken cries. Did he go too rough with you? Were you scared? His questions dissipated when you wrapped your frail arms around his chest. Soft, tear-ridden eyes gleamed up at him, nothing but a satin robe to distance your bodies from another.
❥ “I feel so revolted with myself. Do you feel that way too?” Your meek, shaky voice muttered such self-deprecating language left those lips he kissed with pure adoration. How could you doubt his love? His light gasp followed by a frown pulled you from the depths of overthinking.
❥ “Of course not, sweetheart. Hearing words so undervaluing from you leads me to think of the restless nights you’ve endured without my knowledge. Allow me to help you, what is it that you’d like, dear?” He fondled your shaking hand, smoothing a finger over your wedding ring.
“Anything that regards you is nothing short of perfect, i’ll prove so by whatever means.”
cyno
❥ Soft, undisturbed snores filled the room, courtesy of the sleeping general. You were still reminiscing of the events which had occurred a mere hour ago. You— who was so eager and needy for Cyno it felt humiliating. He had you on his cock nearly every day, pleasuring you albeit not making as much noise himself.
❥ Was he tired of your high libido? Was he getting bored of you? Endless questions swarmed your mind like a cyclone, twisting your perception of your boyfriend till it rained down. You couldn’t help but start to weep, tributaries of tears collecting at your chin, washing away the gentle touches Cyno had placed there prior.
❥ You shouldn’t be so obvious about it, you thought. Perhaps it’d be better to calm down in the bathroom, removing the covers from your body. You didn’t even get to lift your head from the damp pillow fully as your lover had seized your wrist.
❥ “Don’t go, hiding your tears from me won’t help you in the slightest, love.” Called out Cyno, voice raspy with slumber. Although he didn’t know what this was about, that somber expression did not suit you in the slightest. He’d rather have it gone.
❥ Eyes blurred and hazy, you glanced over at him, finally allowing him to pull you close at his side. How could you even describe this to him— say that it’s nothing or burst into tears before you even opened your mouth? Your throat felt painfully constricted.
❥ “Don’t worry, if you can’t tell me now, this can be discussed in the morning. For now, just get some rest.” Cyno comforted, tracing his thumbs over each tear-stained cheek. You didn’t need to tell him, he could already sense what was wrong.
❥ That distant look in your eyes whenever you finished quickly, the sobs he thought were of pleasure were rather subtle cries of guilt. It was quite obvious yet he was so unperceptive to not realise it till you were curled up beside him? Cyno held you closer than ever, arms framing your shivering body as if you were glass, about to shatter any second now.
“I apologise for not seeing this earlier. Let me remind you that i fell in love with the exact person you’re incorrectly ashamed of, i wouldn’t change anything about you.”
tighnari
❥ There was something off about you— Tighnari could sense it, although not place a finger on it. Your lips trembled with something he thought was fear, yet it wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’ve always been an expressive person, so why the sudden change?
❥ You were quite loud just a few minutes ago, now it seems you’ve withdrawn yourself under the cotton covers for comfort. You’d always ask for aftercare and snuggle close to him after sex, though not a single request sounded from the opposite side of the bed.
❥ If only he knew that your saline tears dampened the pillow and your lashes, the red hue that was on your cheeks had shifted up to your eyes, worn with distress. Tighnari had never mentioned anything negative to you at all, however this sickening discomfiture twisted your stomach.
❥ Despite how hard you tried to disguise the reality of your feelings, fleeing from your excessive eroticism, it’d all come down one day. Your throat closed up, a pounding migraine overtook your senses, making it all the more apparent.
❥ “Dear? What’s the matter? Are you hurt?” The forest ranger panicked— ears twitching half-confusedly. No response apart from a snivel and the rustling of the quilt which you grasped onto. Immediately, he reached for a glass of water and towel.
❥ Tighnari turned you over, fingers brushing along your jaw, patting the cool, damp fabric over your closed eyes. Wails of panic were replaced with small hiccups, breathing still irregular but not as before. Would you even want to discuss this now? He fears startling you again.
❥ Your boyfriend continued to lightly massage your head, raking his slender fingers in your tangled hair. Moments like these— where you needed him the most, he’s here for you.
“Shh, it’s okay, don’t stress over this too much dearest. Get some sleep now.”
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