#her sis saying shes always had this habit of never saying it when she wants something

[torusblindfold]

i wanna change my pfp to yuki from horimiya but its gonna ruin the blue aesthetic :/

#i love her #shes just like me fr #i get her #i wish i could tell her shes very!! pretty #her sis saying shes always had this habit of never saying it when she wants something #the hiding her true feelings #the feeling selfish and like a bad person #not trynna trauma dump but #ugh I GET IT #yuki yoshikawa #hori san #horimiya #izumi miyamura #toru ishikawa

[woso-fan91]

Second Chance At Love? (Part 2)

Surprised you quickly stood up almost falling over your own feet as you moved closer to Ona, scared that if you move to quickly she would run away or you would just wake from the dream: „Hola mi vida…“

Ona raised her hand in warning: „No Y/n. You don‘t get to do that… you lost your right to call me that!“

Ashamed you looked to the floor before looking at the defender: „Lo siento Ona. You‘re right I lost the right to call you that. I spoke out of habit and for that I apologize…“ Ona crossed her arms infront of her chest: „You said, you would be honest with me. Said that you changed… that you would do anything I say… Do you mean that?“

The million Dollar question you figured, while you looked into her hazel eyes you decided to be honest for once: „Si, I meant every word.“

Ona looked at you with with conflicting emotions running from fear, to sadness, to exhaustion, to uncertainty and everything was underlined with the adoration she felt for you ever since you two were kids and ran around the backyard: „I think we should talk in private, no?“ You nodded looking insecure: „Do you have time now?“ Ona nodded and said goodbye to the kids around you. You followed her example and followed Ona not exactly knowing where she would take you.

To your surprise Ona took you to the beach where you shared your first kiss in 2011 just before she went and joined La Masia. You watched her curiously knowing to not push her when she was thinking so you decided to sit in the sand and just watch her for now. You missed her, her humor, her laugh, her eyes, her dimples, the way she would smile at you, when you were cuddled and cozied up on the couch. Involuntarily you smiled.

Ona looked at you: „What‘s so funny Y/n?“ You looked at her: „Nothing… just realized your habits didn‘t exactly change and you have gotten more beautiful over the last three years.“ Ona felt the blush creep up her cheeks but decided to get this talk back on track: „Thank you… but you said you‘d do anything I said…“ Quickly you nodded: „Yes.“ The defender sat down beside you: „Why?“ Curiously you ask: „Why what?“ Ona rolled her eyes: „Why did you break up with me? Why did you break my heart, forcing me to move to England…“

You looked over the water pulling your legs to your chest: „I suppose I owe you this explaination… You know that I was always your biggest supporter when it came to your career Ona. I was so fucking proud when you got accepted into La Masia, knowing it was your dream… Knowing that I had to take a second role in your life so you could focus on your career. I loved to watch you thrive on the pitch and I loved my role as the supporting girlfriend, even figuring out that I could get use to the WAG life… But I knew as well that you felt bad to push me into the back. Missing our anniversaries, the birthdays, the holidays and whenever we were together you were tired or your mind was already on the next games. I read about the rumors that United was interested in signing you and I knew back than that it would be beneficial for your career and the way you would develop as a player. When we saw eachother again you told me, you received the offer but you wanted to decline it… Decline it because of me and I could never accept that. Never accept that you would put me over your career. You will achieve big things Ona, maybe there‘ll be a Ballon d‘Or on the horizont for you and before you object, I sincerely believe that because I know what a great player you are. So I made the hardest decision in my life and broke up with you although I was and still am madly and deeply in love with you. I knew when I broke your heart, you would take Uniteds offer and go be the amazing player I knew you were back than…“

Ona listened intently watching her first and true love finally putting the truth out for her to hear.

You looked into her eyes: „I knew you would hate me for that, but I figured that you would be able to eventually understand why I did what I did. I know I hurt you Ona and for that, I will be forever sorry and I will happily apologize every single day for the rest of our lifes if that is what you want. I never missed a single game you played and I always was your biggest support. I know or rather read that your heart may now belong to a certain English right-back and I accept that Ona, I do. All I ever wanted for you was to be happy and unapologatically yourself.“

Ona locked eyes with you knowing you mean the pictures with Lucy. Her mentor and good friend… Lucy was funny, honest and insanely beautiful and talented but they were close friends but that was all because you were in the picture and even as you broke her heart back than you were her person, her soulmate, her other half. Also a little part of her was scared, scared you would hurt her again: „You still love me?“

You smiled slightly at her: „Si, I‘m still very much head over heels in love with you Ona. Always have and always will be. If the choice would be mine, I would marry you right here, right now because I know I will never ever love someone like I love you.“

Ona laughed freely and leaned closer to you: „Easy cariño, or I will take you up on that offer.“

You smirked leaning closer to her irresistable lips: „I‘m not stopping you on taking me up on this offer… I had the ring ever since we were 18 and I intent to use it if you give me the chance.“ Ona enjoyed your warm breath on her lips: „No more breaking up and no more lies?“ Immediatly you nodded your head: „No more. Never again mi vida. I will happily be in your corner as whatever you want me to be.“ Ona couldn‘t wait anymore and finally kissed you after those long three years apart.

You kissed her back with the same intensity your defender showed you as she mumled: „How does girlfriend sound for now?“ You looked up: „For now?“ Ona stoked along your cheek: „Si, for now… after all I will be your wife one day.“

With a happy laugh you pulled Ona into your lap and kissed her again before mumbling: „Te quiero bebe… I love you so fucking much!“ Ona staddled you her arms wrapping around your neck: „I love you too. Can‘t wait for our future together cariño.“

#ona batlle x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #espwnt x reader #fc barcelona femeni x reader

[deadpool15]

Girl please

I'm walking around trying to gather all my shit. I can't ever find shit in this bitch. "Baby, if you can't come that absolutely fine. I just thought since you were in Korea, well, you know.." I turn around and stare at the phone. "Kirsten Dogen, you sit there and pass off a fake ass undertone with me again, and you are not getting those snacks you like when I pull up. Don't throw shade at me, young lady." I hear a bunch of laughs coming from the phone which I can't really identify, I guess those are the other girls she is doing the photoshoot with. Serves her right. I don't take the back talk. "Baby, really legal government names, that's how we gonna play it." She says with a pout on that God forsaken beautiful fucking face. But I realize to back down. "And did, what's your point."

"Also, your fav boots are in our closet, in my side, sweetie," When I heard those words, I turned around, and I almost got whiplash. "Why would MY boots be on your side, huh?" She stares at me sheepishly before trying to make it seem like someone is calling her, and quickly saying she had to go. I sit there in disbelief, "I know she did not just hang up on me. And proceeded to not answer my question at that. Girl literally just cut me off like I wasn't talking." After a while of absolute bullshit I finally decided to finish getting ready. It was pretty hot in Korea, so I went for some shorts and a crop. With my favorite boots, of course. I then decided to call up Yeonjun. Me and that man had been friends ever since his family decided to randomly pull up to California for a couple of years. I showed him around, and his mom used to joke about us being together. Then he came back to Korea and our parents thought it would be a good idea to send each other letters.

Our friendship has lasted for what felt like a lifetime, and I love that dude. Through Kirsten couldn't stand him. I felt like she had just never taken the time to give him a chance. Sure, Yeonjun was flirty sometimes, but that's just him as a person, and he knew when to back off. I would never hurt my wife, and sometimes, I felt like she didn't trust me. I mean, Yeonjun was literally my right hand at our wedding. Out there standing next to me prepared me for my life, cheering the loudest when we officially got married. It even got to the point where she shit talked him once and got angry at me. Like true enough, I love my wife, and I love my bestie, so I wanted them to get along. Hopefully, today works out. I had been signed to Hybe labels as an official choreographer, mainly working with newjeans because those are my girls, but I had worked with other groups as well. The public was quite familiar with me and our friendship, so it was never any dating rumors. Sure, people wanted us together, but that's their issue. I'm happily married.

Yeonjun had pulled up in his van. Opened the door before I hit him in the head. "Why are you always so aggressive all the time? There was literally no need for that hit, Cece." I just push him in the van before grabbing his face. Every time I go to America, I leave for a while. I had to take some other jobs that were literally amazing. Though when I come back, I always make it a habit of checking Yeonjun. Companies are known to starve their idols with fucked up so called diets and I refused to allow it to happen to my bestie. I mean, I almost beat a staff ass for suggesting my litter hyein needed to lose a couple of pounds. "You look good, just doing my family checks." He smiled at me, "I'm glad you care about my health so much, sis." We sat there in the car just catching up on all the shig we have missed in life. Before I told him we would be going to see Kirsten, he just smiled and said, "That's cool." Weridly enough he never had a issue with her, and never tried to say anything back when she insulted him stating she is your wife and you my little sister, I understand why she is jealous but I wouldn't disrespect you other half. My brother is just too amazing. Sometimes, I feel like he read that shit from a magazine.

We pulled up the building, seeing workers running around and losing their minds, trying to make sure everything was perfect. As I walked inside, I heard a scream typical, it what I get for being koreas number it boy with me. Yeonjun just smiles and embraces all the attention. He has also been a suckered for the spotlight. While he is doing that, I tell him I'll go in the back to find Kirsten. I walk away, thankfully, running into Funky Y and greeting her, of course. She is all smiles and asking me all these questions before I cut the conversation short and ask about Kristen. "She is in the back with makeup." I nod and thank her before making my way back there. Seeing her getting all dolled up dripped down in Calvin Klein for the shoot, "Well, look at you." Hearing my voice, she immediately turns around before jumping up to hug me. "Omg, you're finally here. I thought you were made at me about the boot thing. I just wore them at the beginning of the show, to like reveal us. So it technically wasn't that long." I brush her hair out of her face, taking a goof look at her. "I don't care that you wore them, I care that you hung up on me while we were still talking. Don't think I forgot about that. And there shall be punishments in order, baby." I smirk once I see her scared face before kissing her head, trying not to mess up her makeup.

"Guys, it took me forever to find you. It's like a lot of rooms in here. Hi, Kirsten. You look great. What's the shoot for?" Yeonjun asks while running in her out of breath, I turn and laugh at him before turning back to her and see her face. "It's Calvin Klein, pretty obvious to anyone with a brain." She states with a look of pure annoyance while staring at him. Then whispered in my ear why you had to bring him. I grip her arm as a warning, while yeonjun asks us if we want anything to drink, I tell him I'll have an apple juice before Kirsten says nothing from you. "OK, fucking stop it. I try my very best not to take sides because I care about both of you and want you to equally get along. But this shit ends now," I see her face try to turn into a pout before I squeeze her side, letting her know I'm not dealing with the fake shit. "No more animosity or any of that shit, got it." They both look at each other before Yeonjun randomly hugs us both. "I don't have a problem with you, Kirsten. If anything, I'm glad that my litter sister was able to find you, though I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you feel angry. I look over to her, stating it's her turn, and she sighs, "You didn't really do anything, it's just you two are so close, and I know you don't like her like that. But I told myself that if I hated you, it would be easier. Which is a really hard thing to do since you are so happy and bright. I was insecure, and I took it out of you, but then I realized you two are just like siblings, and I felt stupid and thought it was all in my head."

Yeonjun hugs us closer before saying he will give us a minute while patting Kirsten on the back. "Baby, your thoughts are never stupid, and if you feel so strongly, you come and talk to me. We are a team, and till death, do us part remember." She smiles while hugging me tighter and kissing all over my face. "It's ok, I'll try my best to make it up, Yeonjun, for all the shit I put him through. I know he is a nice guy." I just rock her from side to side while listening. "That's amazing, baby, and don't think I forgot about your punishment from earlier. You are in for it when we get home, baby." I tell her while gripping her ass.

Request by @kirsmyonlyone

#street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #street woman fighter x reader #Kristen Dogen #kristen dogen x reader

[thekatebridgerton]

Baby Bridgerton meet cute au

Today on another episode of Bridgerton fics I really want to read. But can't write because I lack both the time and the creativity to do them justice

Baby Bridgerton meet Cute au

Saphne:

Young stuttering Eton aged Simon Basset meeting Anthony's little sister on a visit to the Bridgerton home and immediately being pulled into a game of house by Anthony's tallest little sister. Who forces him to play husband and she will be the wife and all her siblings now are their kids so they must listen to her of course. Because she's the mom. And him the dad. Simon stutters the whole time but leaves little Daphne with the most organized pretend household he can manage before running off to find Anthony to ask to come over more often

Kanthony:

Young 10 yo Anthony finding a scared toddler Kate afraid of storms, asking him to help her find her papa and pretty Miss Mary in Hyde Park. Because she can't find them and its started to rain and she's scared. And Anthony being the gallant kid he is, shelters the little girl from the rain with his coat under a tree, and returns her to her father as soon as he hears voices looking for her. The day after he meets her, he finds out that the little girl Kate, is the daughter of the man who just ran off with the season's diamond. He wonders if he'll ever see her again

Benophie:

Benedict met Sophie in the theater when Sophie was four, since her mother was an actress and Sophie would have been trained to appear on stage. Benedict saw little Sophie play a little Christmas angel in a opera and immediately asked his father if they could meet the actors, just so he could give the little angel girl a flower and tell her she was pretty. Sadly Sophie's mother died not soon after and rather than see the little girl starve, grandmother left her at the doorstep of the Earl of Gunningworth. But she never forgot the dream of the nice boy in the theater who once called her pretty

Polin

The first time Colin met newborn Penelope with her red hair and Rosy cheeks, he wanted to take her home with him and share with her his favorite cake and biscuits. Penelope would cry if Colin was too far from her cradle and Colin declared to all sundry that baby Penelope was "his Pen" for almost all the time it took Penelope to learn how to talk and say it back. Even if adults tried to convince him that Penelope wasn't "one of his" thinking he was confused about his many siblings growing in number. Colin remained insistent for most of Penelope's early years, that Penelope was 'his' Pen the way he was 'my Colin' for her. they only outgrew the habit after he left for school and made more friends his age. Still Penelope never forgot that he was 'her Colin'. Even if Colin did as they grew older. (or maybe he's always been sure she's 'his' Pen too)

Philoise

Their first time meeting was on one of young Phillip's visits to London with his father. Little Eloise had snuck out behind her parents back to a particularly busy bookshop and happened to see an older boy, buy the exact same book that little Eloise had been eying for ages. So of course like any Viscount baby sis...She threw a tantrum. Phillip was terrified of the crying girl who kept accusing him of stealing her book, but he wanted to keep the book, so he just, found something else to give her, shaved ice? did she want shaved ice? he got it for her, maybe a toy, yes, little girls liked toys, here's a toy, just don't cry, don't cry. By the time Edmund found Eloise again, she was grinning, sitting atop of veritable mountain of trinkets, eating shaved ice, with a devoted young boy profusely apologizing to her. Phillip went home with his book and every time he read it, he remembered fondly the cute little tantrum thrower who warped him around his finger that day in Mayfair. While Eloise never quite forgot that moment either.

---

guys you should write this, I want to read it!!

#baby bridgerton au #kanthony #saphne #polin #benophie #philoise #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #colin bridgerton #kate sharma #simon basset #penelope featherington #sophie beckett #phillip crane

[atinystaypixie]

Ranting cuz i need to get things off my chest and feel insane n over life

I’m so damn tired. I stay home to take care of my mother n the constant backlash i get from her is astounding. Always saying i have an attitude n that my face makes her upset. I literally am passing out from exhaustion during the day cuz i can never sleep properly and I usually am jumping out my sleep to come help her and she somehow takes it as me having an attitude and being a bitch—literally called me a bitch, despite me telling her several times its just my face and i cant control it. And then the constant saying im going to Hell because im treating her so terribly. Im trying my best but when i say that she point out that trying isnt good enough and im being a bitch. And she tells me im not taking responsibility for my actions but when i tell her she isnt either cuz she never wants to hear that she talks harshly to me and my sister then its a problem. I just dont get it. I cant do more than im doing and the moment something gets dirty or messy then all hell breaks loose. Im taking care of YOU and am home by MYSELF with you pretty much all fay everyday so excuse me if i cant clean like a damn slave 24/7, take care of you, and manage my school work all in one day. She keeps saying how she never took her time to do anything when it came to me n my sis and that we are terrible kids for taking so long to do anything she ever asks. Aka with me she means if i dont come running in .2 secs of her calling me n this usually happens when im so exhausted i dont hear her. Its a damn if i do and damn if i dont thing almost cuz if i do come quick enough i look ugly and bitchy to her but if i dont come quick enough…i still look ugly and bitchy to her AND i definitely have an attitude. Idk how she expects me to smile when she literally berates and fusses at me 24/7 for even the smallest things especially things i tell her arent happening the way she says. But if I say that she always hits me with the “no you want to play me as crazy! My mind aint gone”- yall im so tired this back and forth and not even being able to apologize and trying to be civil just to be met with curses is crazy. I would see if I genuinely had an attitude but even trying to talk it out leads to no fucking where. Im already depressed and trying not to relapse into bad habits but damn what did i do to deserve this like this? Ik im not a perfect caregiver but i literally stayed home from college and opted to do online courses to help take care of her, i opted to not find a new job, i opted to actually try and be here for her n this is all im met with everyday? Im just tired

#pixie.not so sparkly

[sxtvrns]

the thought of you saved me

🎶 now playing: every breath you take - the police

P: Finney Blake x Fem!Reader

S: You lost a friend to The Grabber. He lost one too. When you lose the last crush friend you have, you'll do anything to get him back, and he'll do anything to get back to you.

W: major tbp spoilers, angst, cursing, mentions of kidnapping, violence, abuse, death, fluff at the end

N: I have no idea if I can get what I have in mind on here exactly the way I want it to, and also it's been like 2 months since I last watched the movie so I apologize in advance for any inaccuracy. Marie is an OC mentioned in this fic.

please interact if you enjoy!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Marie Laura Nattings. Robin Arellano. Victims of the nightmare that's been terrorizing your town for years.

Marie was your closest friend, and you befriended Robin when Finney came into your life for the first time. Ironically enough, Marie had a crush on the school's toughest fighter, saying he'd "defend her if she ever gets bullied" or "fight for her". And now they're both missing. They've been missing.

It was only you and Finney left. Ever since you both lost someone mutually, you began to bond. You both lost your best friends to the same guy, with the same reasons to grieve. As much as you hoped they were alive, both of you were certain they'd already moved on.

Marie went missing shortly after school started. Robin went missing a mere month and few weeks after. The Grabber's habits didn't make sense; why would he leave such a large gap between killings for the other boys and mere months between Marie and Robin?

It was never even confirmed that this was The Grabber's doing but it was obvious enough to deduce the fact that it was him. Marie would've been back by now and you know it. Robin wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

You've only known Finney for a month and a few weeks, but you spent the most time with him. Sometimes he came over to your place to work on homework together. You always sat next to each other in classes together and it was always just the two of you having lunch together.

Though as time went on, those best friend feelings grew into something more. It was odd.

The simplest things he did that you wouldn't usually freak out over, like his hand gliding over yours accidentally when going to grab your pencil sharpener made your face flushed. His baseball games and/or practices he invited you to watch, his drive and determination letting out the best in him, when he let you call him 'Finn'.

They were all just simple acts of kindness and being there for each other, but you couldn't help but view them as something more.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Finn?" His eyes are focused on his math work as he lets out a hum in response. "Do you still like Donna?" He stops writing, thinking of a response. "Why are you asking?" He looks up at you from his paper. "You just... it seems like you don't like her anymore. You don't stare at her when she enters the classroom, you don't tense up when she talks to you, and–"

"I guess I don't like her. Well, I don't have a crush on her anymore, at least." As much as you feel bad for her, you also feel a bit relieved. "Really?" You ask, almost too excited. "You're the one that asked. How about you? Do you like anyone?"

Shit.

You suddenly grow bashful. You didn't mean to turn the tables on you. "Oh, um... well, I can't tell you." You say, hoping he couldn't see right through you. "It's only fair enough for me to know who you like. Just say it."

"Well, um..." You start, not planning to finish.

"Finney?" Your older sister barges into your room, both you and Finney looking up at her. "Time to go. You finish all your work yet? Did Y/N help you?" Finney begins packing his bag while you let out a discreet sigh of relief. "She did, yeah. I'll finish the rest at home." You get up along with him, going down the stairs to greet him goodbye.

That was a week ago. Ever since then, he hasn't come to school.

You tried to look on the positive side of things. Maybe he just had some really bad cold that had him bedridden. Maybe he got hurt and had to stay home for a while. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that this was very out of character for Finney.

He preferred school more than home. If anything, he'd rather be bullied than be abused or witness abuse. He wouldn't stay home that long for anything. And then the worst possible scenario came to mind. He was taken by The Grabber.

You didn't want to admit it, but you were started to think that he was taken. There was no other possible situation. You might be overreacting and just assuming the worst, but this mostly made sense. The Grabber's victims are mostly around Finney's age and they were all boys. But then again, why did he take a girl? Why did he take your best friend?

The phone rings. Your sister goes down and picks it up. "Y/N! It's for you!" She yells, making you rush down the stairs and take it from her. "Hello? Hi, yes, this is Y/N." You speak, clasping onto the receiver with both hands. "Y/N, I’ve heard that you’re quite close with Finney Blake?" The voice on the other end says. "Yes, why?"

He sighs. "We have reasons to believe that he was taken by The Grabber. Now, don't panic; we just have to ask you a few questions and..."

The voice on the other end drowns out as you start to panic. No. God, no, not again. You've lost two people already, you aren't about to lose the last person who's been with you through all this. You need to get him back.

But how? How are you going to do anything? You're just a 13 year old girl. "...if you have any leads, or any questions, call us." You stop spacing out and the voice comes back again. "Okay. Thank you." You say, trying to hide the breaks in your voice. You hang up the phone, turning to your sister. "What happened?" She asks, expressing genuine concern.

"He was taken." You mutter softly, but loud enough for her to hear you. "Oh, Y/N..." She opens her arms and you accept her hug, sobbing into her shoulder. Her hands rub up and down your back as you cry out, drag about him and your feelings through choked out sobs. She listened. Your sister didn't say a word, but you knew she was listening to you.

Her sympathy was silent.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The phone rings.

It's been days in this dingy basement and Finney's been getting calls from dead people. From victims.

First it was Bruce, then Paperboy. Griffin and Vance followed. They all gave him advice that led to dead ends. What was the point of the code on the wall, the cable? It was all for nothing.

He was gonna die here.

He'd never get to see his sister again. He never had a proper chance to say goodbye. Goodbye to her, and goodbye to you. The thought of you crying, the thought of you in despair of losing all her friends to the same monster that keeps everyone awake at night; it only wants to make him get out sooner.

He wants to stay alive, but nothing has worked.

Finney picks up the phone, answering with a frustrated, quiet, "What?"

"Hey, Finn. What's happening?" Finney stands there, a mix of joy and sadness washing over him as he's frozen in spot. "Hey buddy, don't cry." Robin says. "I'm not." Finney wipes his face of the tears that are about to fall down his cheek. "Yes, you are. We can see you."

"We? Who's we?" Finney asks, confused. "Me and Marie. We're with you. We've been with you this whole time." Finney couldn't see it, but the ghosts of Robin and Marie are holding hands as they both stare at him. "A man never leaves a friend behind. My dad didn't leave his buddies behind when he went to 'Nan. That's why he didn't come home. And we aren't coming home either. And we aren't going to leave you behind." Robin continues.

"We'll be together again soon." Finney says. "Fuck that. You ain't gonna go like we did." Robin's grip on Marie's hand grows tighter. "I've tried everything. Nothing's worked." Finney's voice breaks as he speaks into the receiver.

"Yet."

"Robin–"

"Do you remember what I told you?" Robin asks. "That I needed to see Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" Finney half-jokes, being it the last thing he does remember. "Before that." Robin specifies. "That someday I need to stand up for myself?"

Marie watches as Finney talks into the receiver and Robin speak back to him. She saw Finney's conflict, a mix of wanting to escape and purely giving up. She wanted to say something, but the two boys kept talking and there seemed to be no way to interrupt.

"I miss you, Robin, Marie."

"Get out for us. Use what we gave you."

"I will."

"Finney?" Marie says. "Yeah?" He replies, now fully convinced that Marie was really there. "The reason The Grabber took me was because… he wanted to see if girls were as desirable as boys. But he went back to his regular male demographic and targeted Robin after killing me.” The truth scared Finney, it angered him. He felt disgusted, enraged. “When you get out… tell her I said goodbye.”

“Her?”

“Y/N.”

Y/N. The name reminds him of how he's still alive, why he's still fighting even on the verge of giving up. You and Gwen. He's fighting for you and Gwen. "I will." Finney says. He says his last goodbyes to his best friend, immediately wanting to break down after hanging up the phone. But he has to get home.

And he'll do anything to see you again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The phone rings again. Your mother is yelling from the kitchen for someone to pick it up. You answer the phone, Gwen's voice on the other end. "Hello?" You say, sounds of hyperventilating on the other end. "Gwen? Are you okay?" You ask, concerned. "He's home. They found him." She says. You can hear her holding back tears as much as you are.

"Oh my god..." You break into tears of joy, hands trembling on the receiver. "Do you wanna see him?" She asks. "I'm grounded. I'll see him tomorrow anyways." You sniffle, wiping the tears off your face. You both say your goodbyes, trodding up the stairs. Your sister runs into you before you can get in your room. "What's wrong?" She asks. You look up to face her, glistened with tears. "Finney's alive."

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Finney walks through the halls, people making way for him as they mutter about. His bullies even move out of the way, with the knowledge that Finney killed The Grabber. If he could kill a nightmare, who knows what he could do to those who hurt him.

Finney walks into his math class, stopping at the door when he sees you in your typical spot, writing swiftly until you make eye contact with him.

You freeze for a second before getting up from your seat, nearly tripping as you pace across the room. You engulf Finney in a hug, holding back tears. "Oh, Finney..." He hugs you back, feeling safe in your arms. "Are you crying?" You sniffle, wiping your tears away before they could fall. "No."

He laughs, something coming to mind. "Um, Marie wanted me to tell you something." He says, pulling away from the hug reluctantly. As much as you are confused, you don't question it. "She wanted me to tell you goodbye." Your head rests on his shoulder again.

He follows you to your shared desk, sitting down beside you and observing your expression. "I killed him. But you know that already." Finney says, sounding slightly guilty despite the torture he went through. "Don't feel bad. He deserved it. You're the toughest kid in school now, Finn." You nudge his shoulder. "Y/N, I talked to them. I talked to all the kids; Bruce, Griffin, Vance, Robin–"

"Finney?" You say, interrupting his rambling. "I never gave up on you. I prayed with Gwen every single day that you would come home and now," you're able to grab his hand without getting flustered, "now you're here. That's all that matters right now." Finney chuckles. "You wanna know something cheesy?" He returns the gesture, holding your hand. "What?"

"I thought of you every day down there." In a split second, your face was burning hot. "I thought of how happy you made me and how much I'd hate to see you cry if I didn't make it out of there." You nearly freaked out on the spot. "What about your sister?" You ask. "I thought of her, too. I thought of both of you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So then the phone rings for the last time, and this time Robin is talking to me and..."

Finney rambles about what he had to go through down in the basement, and how the disconnected cellphone began to ring with the voices of previous victims making him do things that contributed to The Grabber's death.

"He was with Marie, and then she told me to say goodbye for you, then The Grabber came down and I... I killed him. I snapped his neck with the phone cord and then I got out and Gwen was running to me and..." He looks like he's about to cry again. "You're a brave kid, Finn. Y'know, some people could've been stupid enough to have mercy on the guy and not kill him."

"What? No way, anyone could've killed him." You both stop at his door, Finney getting his keys from his bag. "Some people are stupid enough to forgive those who don't deserve it." You say. The door unlocks, Finney quietly opening it and dragging his bag inside. "Finn?" You say, his head perking up.

Come on, you idiot, just do it. Don't just stand there and waste his time.

You go up on your tip toes and leave a small kiss on his forehead before almost tripping down his doorsteps. "Bye! See you tomorrow!" You say, almost revealing the panic in your voice. "Yeah, bye..." He mutters, shutting the door.

His fingers touch the spot where you kissed him, feeling as if he was graced by an angel. A majestic angel who truly felt the same way about him the same he did for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

every breath you take, and every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take, i’ll be watching you. 🎧

#the black phone #finney blake #finney blake x reader #the black phone x reader #robin arellano #fanfiction #bruce yamada #vance hopper

[cowboyemeritus]

Libations (Papa IV/Reader)

You feel like your baby is growing up too fast. Copia helps take your mind off of it. (18+)

Read on AO3

“I had a feeling I would find you in here, cara mia.”

Copia’s voice startles you out of your meditation and you jump. It seems he snuck up behind you while you were lost in prayer. You turn to look as he kneels beside you at the altar and makes the traditional gesture of reverence towards the ground. No one knows exactly what to call it. Upside-down crossing yourself? Reverse-crossing? Uncrossing? Millennia of history and still no proper name for it. Some church you lot are.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” you say quietly, meeting his gaze. Despite the small smile that graces his features, there is worry in his eyes. He takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“A lot is happening up there?” he asks, gently poking you on the forehead with his index finger. You merely nod in response.

“Si, si,” he says. “I had a feeling this was true. Why don’t you tell Papa what is the matter, eh?” You let a small laugh out through your nose.

“It’s dumb,” you sigh, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of the chapel. Admiring the painted stars, your attention is instinctively drawn to where you know the constellations are. It’s a habit you’ve had ever since you joined the Church, discovering early on that it helps pass the time during particularly dense sermons. Not like you’d ever do that now, though; something tells you that’s not exactly proper Prime Mover behavior. Besides, how could you ever be bored when it’s him in the pulpit?

“Dumb?” Copia asks, incredulous. “Never.” He maneuvers himself so that he’s sitting in front of you now, his hands on your shoulders.

“Amore mio,” he all but begs. “Talk to me.” You laugh again.

“It’s probably just hormones or something, really.” Copia quirks an eyebrow. That answer clearly isn’t enough for him. You let your posture sag before you continue.

“I just…” You have to collect your thoughts for a moment. “I’m just weirdly emotional about Regina.” Remembering your infant daughter prompts you to look around the room. “Wait, where is she, anyway?” To your relief, the smile returns to Copia’s face.

“The Ghouls are watching her,” he says. “Cirrus called it ‘pack bonding.’” You’d think she was one of their kits, they way they dote on her. Even before she was born, the hellish creatures fawned over her, never letting you and your swollen belly out of their sight. The memory makes the weight pressing down on you feel a bit lighter. 

Copia gestures for you to continue. “I don’t know, babe. It’s just weird to think about how fast she’s growing already.” Fast indeed; your baby isn’t even a year old yet and is already walking and beginning to talk. So young, and already so smart. Copia says she takes after you. Looking into her two-toned eyes, however, you’re not so sure.

“What if… What if she’s the one?” Reflexively, your gaze shifts to the statue of Baphomet just beyond the altar. Its eyes, carved from blood red stone (carnelian, you guess), bore into you. Copia cocks his head to the side.

“You say that like it is a bad thing.” You sigh again.

“Of course it’s not a bad thing. I just… that’s a lot of responsibility for a little girl, you know? I don’t want her to grow up too fast like you and I did.” Copia considers your words quietly. A beat passes before you speak again.

“Is it wrong for me to want that for her? Will the Dark One strike me down for wanting my baby to have a normal life?” Internally, you question if that's even possible.

Gently, Copia wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He lightly pets your head, wanting to provide comfort but knowing better than to mess with your veil. You’ve always been very particular about it, meticulously pinning the garment in place every morning so that it feels right on your head. The last thing you need, he knows, is to have to worry about fixing it.

“Tesora-“

“I’m fine, really,” you say, trying to pull away. When your efforts prove futile, you slump into him, your head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. “I really do think it’s just hormones. She’s growing up and my body doesn’t like it.” You’ve been steadily weaning your daughter over the last few months, giving her more real foods and less of your milk. Although it’s definitely starting to dry up, that doesn’t stop your mind from wandering to the extra bottles in the fridge. Inevitably, you’ll have to toss them soon. The thought makes you groan. What a waste.

“I’m just dreading the point when she won’t need me anymore, even if it’s far in the future,” you finally admit. The words are painful, but just being able to say them is cathartic enough. Copia nods.

“I know, amore, but that doesn’t mean you ever stop being her mama.” As much as you’ve been trying to tell yourself that, somehow only he makes it really sink into your brain. It’s always been like this with him — he’s the only person who can break down the walls you’ve built around yourself. Sometimes you think he has you under some sort of spell, the way he’s able to move you. Not that you really mind.

“And as for la nostra bambina… No matter who she becomes, she will be great. She will be amazing. I have seen this in my dreams, cara. She has the favor of our Benefactor.”

Satan in Hell, he has such a way with words.

You take a moment to just savor being in his company. The warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne; you take it all in. In the quiet of the chapel, you can hear how his heart beats for you. All your angst and woe seems to melt away as he holds you. When was the last time the two of you were able to just… exist like this? You can’t remember.

At last — at long last! — you let yourself smile. A long breath escapes from your mouth as you return his embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso. You turn your head slightly to place a kiss on his neck. The thick collar of his cassock keeps your lips from his skin, but the intent is there.

“Thank you,” you all but whisper. “I needed this.” Copia hums in agreement. Oh, he knows.

“Ti amo, Papa.” You shift again, lifting yourself up to give him a proper peck on the cheek. Your lipgloss leaves a faint stain on the white of his skullpaint and you try and wipe it off with your thumb before he stops you, gently catching your wrist with a gloved hand.

“Pink looks good on me, no?” You both chuckle. The arm that’s still wrapped around you snakes down to your waist. Copia suddenly pulls you onto his lap and you gasp in surprise.

“I love you, too.” Dropping your wrist, Copia cups your face with his now free hand and leans in to kiss you. It’s relatively tame, but it leaves you wanting more nonetheless. You immediately go in for another, pressing your mouth against his with more force.

Copia gets the message, moving his hand to the back of your head in order to pull you even closer. You allow your lips to part slightly, (not so) subtly inviting him in. He, of course, obliges you, gently caressing your tongue with his. Your core throbs in response and you let out a quiet moan. Copia is already hard beneath you, the warmth of his arousal pressing against yours.

He starts trailing kisses from your lips to your cheek, and then from there to to your chin, pulling at the collar of your habit to expose your neck. “I love you, so, so much, cuore mio. Please never forget that.” He plants an open-mouthed kiss to your skin, suckling on the delicate flesh. You gasp and grind your hips down against his.

“I- oh, Copia.” You’re certain your panties are already soaked. “I’d never forget. You’re so good to me. Too good, probably.” You cry out as Copia gently nips at your neck. There’s going to be a mark for the next week or so, and now there’s definitely no hope for his papal paint. C’est la vie, you guess.

“Nonsense. Nothing is too good for my Prime Mover.”

Your lips meet his again, tongues feverishly swiping at one another. Feeling bold, you reach down to palm him through his cassock. Copia groans at the touch, bucking into your hand. He’s so hard you imagine it must hurt.

“Is this all for me, sweetheart?” You ask, stroking him as best as you can through the thick black cloth. Wanting to reciprocate, Copia brings his hand down to the apex of your legs. The touch makes you shiver. Quickly backtracking, he brings the hand up to your mouth, resting his middle finger on your lips. As if reading his mind, you gingerly bite down on the leather of the glove as he slides his hand out. He takes the article from between your teeth and carefully places it off to the side.

“Now,” he murmurs. “Where were we?” He caresses your face lovingly before slowly beginning to trail his hand back down. Stopping at your chest, he gives it a squeeze and you yelp. You’ve been so distracted by the business of the day that you hadn’t realized how full and sore your breasts had gotten. Copia quickly realizes his mistake as a wet spot forms on the front of your habit.

“Shit,” you grumble, peeling yourself off of him. “I forgot to pump today.” Both of you rise to your feet and set about straightening yourselves out. It’s of little use, though; anyone who dares walk into the chapel now would be able to tell what you and Copia have been up to.

“It has been a long day for you, cara mia.” You merely grunt in response.

“I should go take care of this,” you say, gesturing to your chest. “And I should probably change.” You give Copia an awkward sort of side-hug, as to avoid getting his cassock dirty, and give him another, albeit less heated, kiss.

Your beloved, it would seem, has his own agenda. Before you can make your retreat, his arm snakes around your waist once again, pulling you into him. His tongue prods at your lips, pleading for entrance. You quickly grant his request; how could you possibly refuse your Papa?

You expect Copia to let you go once he’s done exploring your mouth. It’s a promise for later, behind closed doors and between the sheets. To your surprise, however, he doesn’t let up, instead leading you towards the altar. The feeling of the cold stone on your back, even through the material of your habit, makes you shudder.

“Babe,” you whine, managing to break away from the kiss for a moment. “What are you doing?” Papa presses his pointer finger to your lips.

“Shh, cara. Just trust me.” Your eyes wander to the open chapel doors and a pang of anxiety runs through you.

“What if someone comes in?” You know this is a Satanic church and all, but damn! Sometimes you get shy.

Copia waves his hand dismissively. “Then they will have the privilege of observing their Papa and his Prime Mover in worship.”

Oh, this is going to be good.

Copia is crushing his mouth against yours before you get the chance to respond. You brace yourself against the altar bed to keep the edge from digging into your back. The contrast between the warmth of his body and the cold marble drives you wild.

Much more carefully this time, Copia traces his hand down the curves of your body. He drags his finger over your peaked nipple, just barely applying pressure, and yet the sensation makes you moan into his mouth. Abandoning all caution, you decide fuck it, and allow yourself to lean fully against the stone platform, not caring how it digs into your flesh. Your hands find their way down to his ass and you give it a squeeze. Copia pulls away from you, chuckling softly.

“Now, now, preziosa,” he chides. “All in due time.” His hand finally reaches your core and the touch sends an electric jolt through your body. Copia’s eyes glimmer with mischief when he feels how embarrassingly wet you are. “You will let Papa take care of you for now, yes?” Your legs feel like jelly. All you can do is nod.

He cracks a cocky smile. “Atta’ girl.” He’s absolutely ridiculous sometimes. You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t suddenly distracted by him teasing your clit through your underwear. Being the bastard he is, his touch is purposefully delicate. Needing more, you buck your hips into his hand, trying to create friction, pressure, anything. His feather-light touch does not relent, and you resort to burying your face into his chest. When he gets like this, that’s the only thing you can really do.

Your submission pleases Copia. With a hum of approval, he slides his hand up to the waistband of your panties before dipping under. The sensation of his bare hand against your sex is positively delicious.

“Babe,” you mewl, tightening your grip on his cassock.

“You like how I touch you, amore? Do I make you feel good?” Like he even needs to ask.

“So good, baby. You’re so good.” You can feel your resolve starting to slip. Pride be damned, you’re ready to beg.

Copia doesn’t give you the chance, however. Finally, he slips a finger into your throbbing cunt. His pace is still infuriatingly slow, but it provides some relief to the deep ache in your abdomen.

“You know,” he begins. “Outsiders believe that we discourage all virtue in this Church, that we live completely without law.” You recognize the tone creeping into his voice; you hear it every time he stands before the congregation at Black Mass, and every time he takes the stage at a ritual. Papa Emeritus IV, it seems, has come out to play.

He scoffs. “Fools, all of them. But you and I know this is false. We understand the merits of patience and obedience here, do we not?” He punctuates his sentence by pressing into your sweet spot. You keen, stifling a moan in the fabric of his cassock.

“Yes, Papa. We- ah!” You lose the ability to think when he gently kneads the heel of his hand into your clit.

“That’s right, cara. Molto bene.” There’s a pause. “Do we not also exalt those who are diligent in their worship of the Unholy Father?” He’s enjoying this a little too much, the smug bastard. You’ll hopefully have an opportunity to put him in his place later.

“We do, Papa. We do.” You nod furiously, hoping to please him in any way you can.

“Well then, suora,” he says with a huskiness in his voice. “Shall we show Him our devotion?” You thought he’d never ask.

“Please, Your Eminence.” That’s a title you haven’t pulled out in a while, and you’re glad you decided to save it for this moment. With a growl, Papa captures your mouth in a rough, passionate kiss. His fingers pump into you just a bit faster as he all but shoves his tongue down your throat.

Just as you start to feel a hint of your climax building, he withdraws from your cunt. You want to scream, but you know that whatever Papa has planned for you, it’s going to be spectacular. Playing along seems like the smartest option for the time being.

Papa shakes his hand out in a feeble attempt to rid his fingers of your juices. When that fails, he brings the wet digits to your lips with an expectant look. Without hesitation, you take them into your mouth, tongue swirling around them like you would his cock. When he’s satisfied with your work, he wipes whatever’s left on his cassock. You say a silent prayer for the siblings on laundry duty this week, although they’ve definitely seen worse. You certainly did when you were a lower-ranking sister.

Papa’s hands come to rest on your shoulders as he presses a loving kiss to your forehead. Despite the debauchery of the situation, it makes your stomach flutter. You feel him reach around to the zipper of your habit, slowly dragging it down. A small gasp leaves you when he exposes and begins fiddling with the clasp of your bra. It takes him a moment (this was never his specialty, especially one-handed), but the force holding your swollen breasts in place eventually alleviates. You let out a sigh of relief as they fall free. 

Papa slips the garments off your body and they pool around your feet, your panties soon joining them. Now completely exposed to the cool air of the chapel, goosebumps prickle across your skin and a shiver runs down your spine. You’re so distracted by the temperature change that it takes you a second to notice the transfixed look on Papa’s face as he basks in the glory of your bare chest. Your breasts are engorged, almost painfully so, small droplets of milk beading in anticipation. A deep flush settles across your face; you’re still not exactly sure what Papa’s intentions are, but you suspect things are about to get a little messy.

Ducking his head down, Papa gently swipes his tongue over one of your nipples. You can’t tell if the sound that leaves your mouth is an embarrassed wail or a moan. Either way, it’s fucking obscene. He hums with contentment and licks his lips.

“Squisita,” he purrs. You try to cover your face in embarrassment, but Papa grabs your wrists and pins your arms to your sides.

“For as much as I would love to indulge in gluttony with you right now, suora, we are here to worship, are we not?” You nod sheepishly. With an approving look, Papa guides you as you step out of the pile of your clothes before turning you to face the altar. He presses a hand to your back, bending you over so that your chest hangs over the slab.

“That is right, we are here to thank the Old One for His generosity, for blessing us with strong and healthy progeny.” His hands, both of them now bare, wrap around to caress your breasts. Without warning, he gives them a gentle squeeze, and milk spurts out onto the altar. You gasp, writhing against him. The mixture of pain, pleasure, and embarrassment is intoxicating.

“And what better way to honor His Infernal Majesty than to offer up the abundance of your body, hm? This,” he gives you another squeeze, “is only possible through His grace.”

Papa begins massaging your breasts, carefully coaxing out more of your milk. It begins to pool on the stone beneath you, running through the carved channels towards where it drains into the earth. Giving libations is common during special services, on holidays or after an important church accomplishment. Nowadays, wine is normally the offering of choice, but the palm of your hand still bears a scar from your ascension as Prime Mover, when you and Papa mixed your blood and were bound to one another. This kind of sacrifice is new, but you get the feeling the Big Guy Downstairs will still appreciate it. He’s probably into this sort of thing, being the Devil and all.

The pleasure Papa’s touch elicits quickly overwhelms any feelings of anxiety you had over your exposed state. You lean into his hands, begging for more, a moan echoing through the chapel when Papa pinches and tugs at your nipples. Your ass is pressed against his stiff cock and you grind into him.

Somehow, you manage to find your words again. “Papa, please,” you groan. “Please fuck me.” Tears begin to well up in your eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever been this desperate for dick before, but as the last few minutes have shown, there’s a first time for everything.

Papa huffs out a laugh. “You have always been so eager to do the Devil’s work, dolcezza. I truly could not have picked a better woman to carry my offspring. And just look at how well you nourish our little one.” He gestures to the altar before you and your blood quickens at the sight of all the milk you’ve expressed. You’re so entranced watching it flow through the grooves that you only barely notice when Papa finally lets go of your breasts. The loss of his touch is devastating. 

That is, until you hear the telltale sound of Papa parting his cassock. There’s a little more fumbling around, likely him scrambling to undo the laces of his ratty pants (the ones that make his ass look absolutely scrumptious), before you feel the searing heat of his cock against your backside. From the hardness of it, you can tell he’s just as eager as you are.

“Now, suora, shall we conclude this ritual by partaking in the Unholy Communion?” He takes himself in hand, teasing the head of his manhood through your lips. You press yourself against him, trying to slide onto him.

“Yes, Papa. Give it to me please- oh!” It takes everything you have to not scream has he finally, finally, buries himself inside you. Papa lets out a noise that’s halfway between a sigh and growl. Legs already shaking, you brace yourself against the altar as he starts fucking into you at a steady pace. Every stroke of his cock against your walls has you reeling and panting like an animal. It seems you needed this a little more than you thought.

“That’s it, cara. What a good girl you are,” Papa coos. “Always so devout, so willing to please.” His hand moves from your hip to your front to play with your clit. He hisses through his teeth when his touch makes you moan and twitch around him.

Papa keeps rambling. “You would do anything for this cock, wouldn’t you?” You nod weakly, rocking back into him.

“You would let your Papa plant his seed in you? Make you grow round with child again?” The thought brings you exponentially closer to your climax and he knows it. It’s like your legs have been kicked out from under you. He laughs. “That is what you truly desire, is it not? That’s what all this moping has been about?” He really does know you better than you know yourself.

“I- oh, Papa. Fuck!” The grip on your hip tightens, nails digging ever so slightly into your flesh.

“Answer me, woman.” His pace slows to a crawl, just barely pumping into you now. You cry out in what feels like agony.

It takes you a second to gather yourself. “Yes, Papa,” you sob through heavy breaths. “I want another baby! I want one so badly. Please, grace me with another one of your progeny.” There is a long, almost painful moment of silence before Papa speaks again.

“Very well, then. How could I possibly refuse my most devoted acolyte?”

He begins mercilessly pounding into you. The slapping of his hips against the meat of your ass, accompanied by the squelching of your pussy, echoes through the chapel. You’re so wet, so desperate for Papa to impregnate you, that rivulets of slick start to run down your thighs. You have to stuff your fist in your mouth to stifle the moan that rips from your throat when Papa begins angling his thrusts just right, abusing the spot that makes you see stars. Judging by the barely contained moans you hear from behind, it seems like Papa is enjoying this as much, if not more than you are.

“You are so good to me, bella. Such a perfect mother to our child.” It sounds like Copia has resurfaced. “So strong and brave, my- oh, Sathanas- my beautiful Prime Mover. I could not have asked Him for a better mate.” The praise has your head spinning and your cunt clenching. “How can I get you there, amore? What can I do for you?”

It feels like you’ve been close for millennia. “Fuck, baby, just don’t stop. You- ah! You fuck me so good. Fucking hell, I love you so much.” You barely have any idea what you’re saying at this point, the pleasure is so intense. The memory of last time you and Copia made love like this evades you, but it has to have been before you fell pregnant with your daughter.

“Ti amo più di ogni altra cosa, cara mia. Tu mi completi.” As your orgasm rapidly approaches, you find yourself looking to the image of Baphomet once again. Realistically, the chances that Copia’s seed will take are low, but perhaps the Dark One is willing to assist you tonight. The way the statue’s red eyes seem to gleam with recognition, you would think He’s pleased with the performance you two have put on.

Copia swipes at your clit once, twice, three times, before your release washes over you. It’s a struggle not to completely collapse as you lose yourself in the euphoria. Faintly, you feel yourself gushing around his cock, your fluids running down your legs and soaking the carpet beneath you (and very likely the front of Copia’s cassock).

You snap back to reality as overstimulation starts to course through your body. A whine wrenches itself from your throat. Copia is still at it, fucking you with reckless abandon. Craning your head back, you take in the sight of your lover. His face is scrunched up into a grimace as he takes his pleasure, clearly affected by your orgasm. The brutal pace of his thrusts begins to falter, and you know that means he’s almost there.

“Kiss me, baby,” you beg with a breathy sigh. Copia obliges immediately, probably hoping you’d ask. You twist your back even further as he leans in to capture your lips. His hands travel up to your breasts, grabbing them and pulling you close so that your body is flush with his. He moans into your mouth as he finally reaches his peak, cumming so deep you swear you can taste it.

You’re still kissing long after he comes down. When you finally break away, Copia has to hold on to keep you from collapsing into the altar. Both of you are so lost in each other’s embrace, desperately trying to catch your breath, that you fail to register the sound of footsteps growing ever closer.

“Pardon me, Papa. I- oh, whoops.” The familiar voice startles you out of your reverie. The two of you whip your heads around to the source. It’s one of Imperator’s ghouls, the guy who used to do PR before Copia took over. Nowadays, he’s more or less her errand boy. For what feels like an eternity, you stare at each other, equally wide eyed. The creature finally clears his throat before speaking.

“I- uh- This looks like a bad time. I’ll come back later.” He promptly turns tail and scurries away. It takes a second for both of you to recover from the interruption. Copia, seemingly less affected than you, breaks the silence. 

“In nomine patris, il filio, et lo spiritus malum…” He gives your ass a playful smack and you can’t help but roll your eyes. This fucking dork. Well, at least he’s your dork.

“Nema.”

#my writing #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #this was my first fic you guys be nice

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi. I'd like your advice on my 19 year old infp younger sister (I'm an infp girl too) . She's very toxic and self absorbed, she has no empathy towards her family and she never sees anyone else's point of view. You have to walk on eggshells with her and if you say anything that goes against her point of view, she takes it personally and attacks you, she's completely closed off to others.

The problem that my mom has and me, is that we worry for her. She's reckless and doesn't even acknowledge any risks. It's like they don't exist or are even possibe to her. She goes out with her friends but never accepts any advice my intp mom gives her about her safety. She's taking an acne medication and can't drink alcohol with it, but she minimizes this. She thinks that by drinking less it won't affect her, but my mom informs her of the risks of it and why it's harmful to her, but she just doesn't care. It's like she doesn't have the capacity to acknowledge it, or perhaps her Fi is too toxic and self absorbed that real objective information and dangers are meaningless? That only what she thinks and feels is true?

I just wish to know how we can make her see that we care for her and we aren't doing this to control her. I'd like to know a way to make her acknowledge real dangers, but it's like hitting a titanium wall. If you say anything to her she either ignores you, or gets really angry. How can we deal with her? What can I do?

----------------------

It is distressing to watch someone be a danger to themselves and even a menace to others. Unfortunately, when they don't want help and even believe they don't need it, there isn't much you can do. Not to mention that she's already an adult. Behavioral problems are best addressed early in life. By adulthood, habits have mostly solidified, and people are too eager to be independent and free from the influences of home. The more you try to push them to change, the more they might double down on their problematic behavior.

The information you've provided is quite sparse and there's no way for me to know how accurate and objective your description is, so all I can say is that she could potentially suffer from an intellectual deficit, a mood disorder, a personality disorder, or a behavioral disorder. Or... she could just be an asshole with very few redeeming qualities.

To the extent that being INFP matters, there would be predictable patterns of function misuse, such as: Fi self-absorption, Ne overindulgence, Si stubbornness, and Te lack of objectivity and logic. You say she has no empathy, shows no care and concern, and doesn't bother about consequences. These are not INFP specific problems. The typical INFP (i.e. assuming normal ego development) is very empathetic, loves very deeply, and though they might have difficulty calculating consequences, they will certainly care about doing harm. The symptoms you describe usually indicate there is a deeper mental health issue involved that is either somewhat separate from personality or serves to bring out the worst aspects of one's personality.

Hearing your description of her only raised questions for me, such as:

- Has she always had no empathy or did her environment never encourage her to develop it? For example, there's a difference between someone who is neurologically incapable of empathy versus someone who has gotten away with antisocial behavior for too long and thus refuses to change. Your mom being INTP sounds like it could be significant because they are often not the best for teaching children emotional intelligence, especially troubled kids.

- Has she always been antagonistic toward the family or were there significant events that turned her against the family at some point? For example, there's a difference between someone who is simply callous (to everyone) versus someone who was (unconsciously) made to feel like the black sheep in the family and is acting out as a result. You bring up the specter of her feeling "controlled", which seems like an important detail that was glossed over. There are probably unhealthy familial relationship dynamics that need to be analyzed and healed.

- Has she always been unresponsive to consequences or is it more accurate to say that she has never had to fully suffer the consequences of her behavior? For example, there is a difference between someone who doesn't have the logical mind to work out cause-and-effect versus someone who has been spoiled because their messes were always cleaned up for them. You mention she is a younger sister, is she also the youngest of the family? This might be significant because children are often (unconsciously) treated differently by parents according to birth order.

These questions pop up because there are many blanks to fill in, and I don't like to rely on speculation. To have any chance of changing her behavior, the first thing you have to do is gain some understanding of why it's happening. There might be any number of biological factors, psychological factors, social factors, and environmental factors that need to be addressed. But it sounds like neither you nor your mom have any insight into any of the factors, so it might be time to seek expert help. Perhaps your mom should consult a family therapist or someone who can build a proper case history of her behavior in order to understand how things turned out this way, which might then help reveal new paths forward.

#infp #family #helping #ask

[strangerthingslover69]

New cop ~ part 1

Dmitri + shy female reader (mid twenties)

You decided to leave your life in California and follow your big sister Joyce back to Hawkins after finding out Hopper her love is alive. You are so happy for them all. Hoppers got his old job back, Joyce and the kids are finally happy. Now it’s your turn, you hope. You visit and Joyce visit Hopper at work one day and discover he’s hired a new cop. Welcome Officer Dmitri Antonov

After your big sister Joyce got that package from Russia that led to many events, she was finally reunited with Hopper. You’d not met him before but heard good things and seen some photos, very cute. You’d never been out of California before, Joyce and the kids had always come to visit you. You had the same dad but different mums. Your dad was very surprised when your mum announced she was having a baby considering he’d just turned fifty three. Your mum was in her thirties when she had you. Unfortunately she never got to watch you grow up. She passed when you were two. Your dad passed away three years ago now so no one was left for you there anymore. Joyce asked you to move to Hawkins after she told you she was going, since your dad left you your inheritance you couldn’t pass it up.

That leads you to now. The final box finally unpacked. You look around your new room. You smile. It’s a lovely home. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, two bedroom and a decent sized garden. You hear your phone ringing in the kitchen. ‘Hello? Y/N speaking, how can I help?’ You said as you answered. ‘Hey, you sure are polite when you answer the phone sis. Just calling to check in on you’ Joyce said through the line. ‘Dad told me to always be polite. Even when you don’t wanna. I’m all unpacked finally!’ You reply. ‘That sounds like dad. Oh great! I was wondering if you wanna come over for a bit, I need to get to the station. Hopper forgot his lunch, again. No time like the present to meet him?’ Joyce asks hopeful down the phone. You bite your lip, a nervous habit of yours. ‘Sounds good sis, can’t wait to meet him, see you in fifteen!’ You say hanging up the phone. You were excited to meet Hopper but also nervous. You don’t want to make a bad impression on your basically brother in law. You go back to your room and get ready, you don’t want to made a crap start by looking well crap. You get out of your lazy clothes and begin to look through your clothes. In the end you settle for a flowery long sleeved top with a blue denim dungarees dress, pairing with white knee high socks and a pair of purple vans. Your not much of a girly girl this was the best. You add some hoop earrings, some flowery rings to match your top and a black shoulder bag. You look in your mirror trying to fix your pony tail and pushing your glasses up properly. ‘Hi Hopper. Nice to meet you’ ‘Hey Jim. So glad to meet you.’ ’Hop! I’m so happy your alive!’ ‘No no don’t say that last one idiot.’ You mumble to yourself. Meeting new people makes you slightly nervous. You shake it off and grab your car keys and make your way over to your sisters

You knock on the door waiting for an answer. ‘Hey sweetie, oh don’t you look adorable! Come on in’ Joyce says leading the way. The new house is definitely beautiful. Lots of light, open space, feels just like a perfect family home. ‘I love your place. It’s lovely’ you say admiring a painting on the way. ‘Aw thanks Y/N, we love it. I was thinking that we just leave now? I know how nervous you can be about meeting new people. This way you don’t have to think about it.’ Joyce states grabbing Hoppers lunch. ‘Oh. Erm y-yeah okay’ you say nervously. Joyce puts her hand on your shoulder, ‘sweetie I promise it’ll be fine. Hop will love you. Trust me’ she reassures you. You nod with a smile and follow her out the door. It doesn’t take long to get there in the car. As she pulls into park you can’t help biting down on your lip. ‘Hey’ Joyce says turning to you taking your hands. ‘It’s okay. He’s a big teddy bear really. You ready? Or do you need a minute?’ ‘I’m ready’ you reply still in a quiet voice. You take a deep breath and you leave the car walking up to the station doors. Joyce takes your hand as you go in. ‘Joyce Byers aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, how have you been?’ An older lady asks from behind the desk. They start talking as you look around. It’s not much. Not too big. You could cope you think. You can see the whole station from where your standing. There’s a few police officers talking, one at his desk, another drinking a coffee. Out the corner of your eye you see two men walking over to you and Joyce, you recognise the taller one. It’s Jim Hopper. He walking next to another man. He catches your eye. He is very handsome and just your type. Joyce didn’t mention him. You wished she had because now you feel even more nervous. ‘Joyce, you are a life saver. Thank you!’ Hopper says brining her in for a hug as he kisses the top of her head. The other man stops right next to you and smiles. ‘Jim, this is my little sister. Y/N’ Joyce says introducing you. ‘So your the infamous little sister I’ve heard so much about. Nice to meet you Y/N’ Jim says reaching out for a handshake. You take it and shake his hand. They are huge and cover all of your hand but it’s soft and he has a kind smile that puts you at some ease. ‘Hi Jim. It’s nice to meet you too. Heard lots’ you say finding your voice. ‘All good I hope’ he says with a chuckle. ‘Oh sorry, this is Dmitri. Our newest recruit’ Hopper steps to the side introducing this mystery man who now you know is Dmitri. ‘You got the job, congratulations!’ Joyce says bringing him in for a hug. He seems a little taken back but hugs her back anyway. ‘Yes. Very kind of Hop to hire me. Nice to meet you Y/N’ Dmitri says turning to you and outstretching his hand for you to shake. You lift up your shaky hand, ‘n-nice to meet you. Well done on the job.’ You say quickly shaking his hand. ‘Is that an accent? Y-you don’t sound American. You live in Hawkins too? I like your accent it’s nice. I-I’ve recently moved here too. It’s nice isn’t it?’ This is another problem you have. When you get nervous around someone you find attractive you stutter and don’t shut up which is ironic. Dmitri doesn’t have chance to answer any of your questions. ‘Sweetie, let go of his hand’ Joyce says putting a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even realise you hadn’t let go. You instantly drop your hand. ‘S-sorry. I get nervous around new people. It goes one way or the other. I either whisper or just don’t stop talking. It’s a real-‘ ‘Slow down Y/N’ Joyce says snapping you back to reality. The two men are just looking at you now. You bite your lip again. ‘Do you have a bathroom?’ You ask looking down at your shoes. ‘Yeah, just down there to the left’ Hopper points telling you. ‘T-thanks’ you say in a quiet voice escaping quickly.

‘She seems nice’ Hopper says turning to Joyce. Joyce smiles, ‘She’s great. She just gets nervous around new people. Always has. She just needs a minute to compose.’ Joyce tells the men. ‘Sorry she talked your ear off then Dmitri. She’s always been like that. Especially when she thinks someone is good looki-‘ Joyce cuts her sentence off realising she’s just told the men an unintended secret. ‘Don’t worry. She’s seems very sweet’ Dmitri says with a warm smile. ‘Please don’t tell her I told you guys that’ Joyce says sadly. ‘Of course we won’t Joyce’ Hopper says bringing her in for a hug. ‘She was just so nervous about today. About everything. I think once she gets use to everything she’ll be better. I hope so anyway. Back in California it got to the point where she only talked to me. I don’t want her to get scared by this.’ Joyce says rubbing her eyes. ‘Don’t worry. I know how she feels. New home. New people. I can talk to her if you want?’ Dmitri offers. ‘I think that may help her, thanks Dmitri’ Joyce says with relief.

Once in the bathroom you lock the door behind you and take in some deep breaths. You’ve never been good with new people. For as long as you can remember, this is why you didn’t bother back in California. But you knew you had to try here. For your sister. You go to the sink take off your glasses and splash yourself with some water. Looking into the mirror you can’t believe how much you‘ve already embarrassed yourself in front of Hopper and Dmitri. Especially Dmitri. It’s like high school all over again. A repeat of Kenny Smiggs. You fancied him the minute you laid eyes on him. You ended up bring lab partners and anytime he talked to you you just couldn’t stop talking about utter bullshit. In the end he asked for another lab partner. You were so embarrassed. A knock at the door brings you out if your thoughts. ‘B-be a second’ you say drying your face and putting your glasses back on. Another deep breath and you unlock the door. To your surprise it’s Dmitri. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks looking concerned. You nod not wanting to speak. ‘I know how overwhelming it can be. I moved here from Russia, left everything I knew behind. But coming here is one of the best things I’ve ever done. I know it will take some getting use to but believe me you’ll get there. I did. And if I can do can you’ he leans giving you an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. Before you reply you hear Hopper shouting him saying they’ve been called to make an arrest. ‘I’ll see you later Y/N. Nice to meet you’ he smiles and is gone.

You walk back meeting Joyce. ‘You okay Y/N?’ She asks with a concerned face. ‘I’m okay. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to’ you say twiddling your fingers. ‘Sweetie, come here’ she says bringing you in for a hug. ‘You could never embarrass me. I know it’s all new and scary but I promise you’ll get use to it’ she says pulling you away fro the hug. ‘So I see Dmitri talked to you. How’s that go?’ She says with a small smile. Nothing got past your sister. You can’t help but smile back. ‘Fine. He’s very kind’ you say as your cheeks turn slightly pink. ‘You’re more than welcome to join us all for dinner later if that’s not too much for you?’ she asks as you make your way out the station. You think about what Dmitri said and how kind his words were. ‘I’d love to’ you say with a smile

#slow burn fanfic #dmitri x reader #dmitri antonov #dmitri antonov x reader #dmitri antonov fanfic #dmitri stranger things #jim hopper #joyce byers #officer Dmitri

[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 17a

ARC image by Eury Escodero | screencap from 'neverfeltbetter' wordpress

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Tony does some thinking about how he used to treat Pepper as his PA, and Natasha and Emory talk shop.

Length: 3,443

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

Pepper Potts had shown up for her job interview in an inexpensive pantsuit that barely fit her, but her makeup had been immaculate, and she was (still is, really) one of the most beautiful non-models he’d ever met. Tony has never told her that he still doesn’t know which part was the tipping point, her looks or her qualifications, but he’s never regretted hiring her. In retrospect, he’s enjoyed watching her expand her wardrobe almost as much as her horizons, over the years.

That thought just reminds him of the image search he’d done of Emory, how she’d always been near Rory, supportive and functionally invisible. Pepper has been that for him for ten years. Has he hurt her in similar ways? He watches her facial expressions alter from concern to gratitude, then tighten into nervousness as if a switch has been thrown. 

“Mr. Stark, I’ve forgotten myself lately, I should apologize. I spent a lot of time with Mr. Hogan during your absence, and he refers to you by your first name--” she stops herself and stands there rigidly, waiting.

She’s shut down into business mode. He won’t have it.

“Apology not accepted,” Tony says, lifting his chin and regarding her sternly. “Tony is my name, and you’ve more than earned the right. Use it, don’t use it, I trust your judgment. I always have.”

Pepper looks at him, her ‘Stark Industries’ demeanor still active but her mouth hanging slightly open. She shuts it and raises her eyebrows. “That was almost nice, Mr. Stark. You must be under-caffeinated. I’ll be back.”

Chapter Seventeen: AU

Tony settles in at his desk, delegating the acquisition of materials and the overview of wire design for Mark II to his AI. That leaves him to solve the problem of stable flight and power conservation himself, but that’s the kind of challenge he’s always relished.

He spends a couple hours altering the design of SI’s Jericho repulsors to mount onto armored boots. As the design takes shape, though, it’s easy to picture the kinds of things that Obie might want to do with it. Tony grabs a flash drive from a drawer and plugs it in, meaning to swap his work over and purge it from the hard drive-- and that’s when he sees that his workspaces are all connected to his home computer. He’d been gone so long he completely forgot about that protocol, implemented after Stane had snooped into Tony’s files and found something he’d been tinkering with but hadn’t wanted to implement. One of those projects ended up becoming the Jericho missile, ironically enough. Remote access with nothing stored at SI was the compromise.

Remote access.

The armored suit he envisions is sleek, streamlined-- and impossible to get into and out of by himself. There are… sacrifices to his dignity he’d be prepared to make for the journey from Malibu to D.C. to see-- and reassure --Emory, but it’s more than three hours one way. Ideally, there’d be a middle ground option, like the flash drive.

Then, Tony remembers that there is.

The house he grew up in.

“JARVIS?” Tony leans back in his chair. “How quickly can we get the Stark Mansion habitable?” For the past five or so years, he’s stayed at hotels in NYC instead. Womanizing in one’s father’s footsteps is a little too on the nose. He briefly considers buying something just outside of D.C. as a fuck you to SHIELD and their list of expectations, but Tony doesn’t want them to retaliate against Emory. Besides, his mansion should be free of agency influence, and he can’t be sure of that in a rental near Washington.

“There are service companies that can be hired to prepare a dormant residence for occupation. Shall I employ one, sir?”

“Set it up,” Tony says, pleased. For the past few nights, Tony’s had trouble excising the images in his head of a particularly incisive, tech-savvy scientist crouched over hurriedly fastening the suit. Replacing Yinsen with a robotic apparatus is too painful to imagine right now. That would require acknowledging his absence from the world, and Tony’s not ready. There’s no sense in designing a robot to get him into and out of the suit without knowing the shape of the place he’d be building it into, and now he can put that off for a while yet.

He roughly shoves back from the desk and starts to get up. A sharp pain arcs through his toe and across his foot, forcing him to sit back down, hard. “What--”

Tony picks up his foot and finds that the sole of his shoe has actually detached halfway, hanging loose at the back. Suddenly the entire thing is too tight. He rips it off and removes the sock, finding the kind of angry, purplish bruising he would have expected to have noticed by now . He shakes his head.

“No way did I have this when I landed -?”

“You kicked your tool cabinet with a lot of force at the end of your call with Miss Autumn, Sir. It is now dented. The adrenaline may have obscured--”

“I get it,” Tony interrupts. He’d wanted to stop hating how it felt to hurt Emory on purpose. As he stares at his favorite pair of shoes in painful consternation, the door to his office opens. It’s Pepper Potts. 

“It’s barely six AM! Are you still on Afghanistan time?” she splutters, clearly concerned.

“We’re twelve hours off, and I hardly need beauty sleep. Wait, are you saying I-- never mind.” Frowning and definitely sleep deprived despite what he’s just said, Tony turns the chair and shoves his feet under the desk. His ruined shoe ends up dragged sideways, its wrecked sole opening wide for her to see.

“If that’s the shoe, what did you do to your foot?” Pepper gasps.

Tony swivels back around, lips twisting sideways as he shuffles his feet back into the light. “Might have broken a toe.”

“Did you fall? Did they miss a head injury?” Pepper eyes him up and down as if searching for other issues he’d kept from her. It’s the kind of presumptuous, caring action she almost never crosses the line for, and it has Tony reassessing how bad his foot looks. This moment feels like home, and fuck, he’d missed his people. Obviously, Pepper has missed him too-- she’s called him ‘Tony’ more in the past few days than in the past three years. That thought animates his impish grin.

“I’m fine. No one casts broken toes. Call in Frank and he’ll tape it up, stick on one of those fancy ice packs we designed for the troops, the ones that don’t burn you and actually stay put.”

“Tony, what--”

“I kicked something, okay? Take it up with the, the whatever. Thing I kicked,” he interrupts, waving his hand dismissively. It works; Pepper whips out her phone, giving him the stink eye as she presses two buttons. Seconds later, she’s speaking to Frank’s receptionist, meaning she’s got the doctor on speed dial, and that’s just insulting.

A quiet beep alerts him to a message JARVIS has wisely flashed onto his screen instead of speaking aloud. A company has been hired to get the mansion cleaned up after twenty-some years of sporadic habitation. In a few days, Stark Industries will send a skilled team out to shift his father’s equipment out of the way and fit out the lab space for him. Tony smiles and leans down to take his other shoe and sock off.

“All right. He’ll send someone within the hour.” She pins him with a look. “You need rest to heal, sir. I can’t even imagine what time you got up this morning.” Pepper looks unhappy, but softens her frustration with practiced deference. It reminds him of Emory, and that stings enough to make him want her out of there. “Promise me you’ll go home for lunch, at least?”

Tony’s off-balance, and his sloppy spin around the axis of normalcy makes him defensive. “Sure. Consider my injured arm twisted. You got something for me? I’m in the middle of designing something,” he says, turning back toward his computer.

“A new weapon? Something you used to escape?” she asks in a small voice. Pepper sounds confused, and who could blame her? Tony knows he’s hard to deal with at the best of times, and this is not that. There are countless design hours, maybe even weeks before he’ll be able to even visit Emory, much less rescue her. He’s new to this hero business, but it seems pretty clear that he could save his assistant right now by explaining himself.

...maybe building Mark II would be easier, in retrospect. He lobs a distraction grenade and hopes it hits.

“Pepper, I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.” 

Tony doesn’t use her first name at work. It’s one of the things she’d asked him to avoid when she��d started, and he’d understood immediately. He’d hired her all those years back because her resume was incredible, so much so that he’d accused her of faking it at the in-person interview. Pepper Potts had shown up in an inexpensive pantsuit that barely fit her, but her makeup had been immaculate, and she was (still is, really) one of the most beautiful non-models he’d ever met. Tony has never told her that he still doesn’t know which part was the tipping point, her looks or her qualifications, but he’s never regretted hiring her. In retrospect, he’s enjoyed watching her expand her wardrobe almost as much as her horizons, over the years.

That thought just reminds him of the image search he’d done of Emory, how she’d always been near Rory, supportive and functionally invisible. Pepper has been that for him for ten years. Has he hurt her in similar ways? He watches her facial expressions alter from concern to gratitude, then tighten into nervousness as if a switch has been thrown. 

“Mr. Stark, I’ve forgotten myself lately, I should apologize. I spent a lot of time with Mr. Hogan during your absence, and he refers to you by your first name--” she stops herself and stands there rigidly, waiting.

She’s shut down into business mode. He won’t have it.

“Apology not accepted,” Tony says, lifting his chin and regarding her sternly. “Tony is my name, and you’ve more than earned the right. Use it, don’t use it, I trust your judgment. I always have.”

Pepper looks at him, her ‘Stark Industries’ demeanor still active but her mouth hanging slightly open. She shuts it and raises her eyebrows. “That was almost nice, Mr. Stark. You must be under-caffeinated. I’ll be back.”

Tony supposes he deserves that. The message is loud if not entirely clear: not here, not now. To show her he understands, he turns back to his work but thrusts his hand out behind him, snapping his fingers.

“Folder?”

“Are you sure?”

He just waves his hand. Pepper slips it into his grasp, the steady but gentle sounds of her heels against the floor as she walks away hinting that she isn’t angry, at least. Tony waits for the door to close before he pulls his arm in and flicks it open.

It’s a file on Emory Autumn, generated at Stark Industries.

Tony can picture the secret smile on Ms. Potts’ face as she steps into the elevator. Pepper 1, Tony 0.

Natasha Romanoff drives like a maniac without shoes.

It isn’t that she’s unsafe-- she makes sure they’re both buckled. But D.C. streets have a different feel than LA ones, and something about this headlong rush is equal parts intimidating and impressive. At one point she slows to a crawl in the middle of the street. Emory looks over, confused, and Natasha nods toward a building ahead of them.

Suddenly, a bike flies out of a side door, skating across the sidewalk and down onto the road as if it has the right of way. Because they’ve slowed down already, the biker zooms across without issue, racing around a corner and out of sight.

“Courier agency. Crazy courier agency,” Natasha explains. “Haven’t needed to use it as a cover yet, but the whole city knows about those guys. They’ll come in handy someday.”

“I’m--” Emory’s throat closes up. She pushes ahead with what needs to be said anyway. “All of this is beyond me. If you need me to smooth over a hurt celebrity’s feelings, I’m your gal. Everything else…”

“I hear you,” Natasha says when she trails off. “According to the file, that’s exactly what they want you to be doing. My job will be to teach you how to stay alive afterwards. If something else grows from that, well.” Her brassy smile as she looks away from the road at Emory is not at all reassuring. The way that everyone at SHIELD dances around her powers while keeping her confined because of them is starting to drive her crazy.

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service means that they go through a drive thru and sit in a run-down parking lot to talk while they eat. Natasha talks, Emory listens. Nothing about Emory’s abilities are mentioned, and Emory doesn’t volunteer anything. It feels a little bit like a game of chicken, but being Rory’s PA has taught her all about how to play those well. By the time they’re finished eating, Emory has a better idea of what’s expected of her in the short term (some physical training, some psychological training, a lot of policies and procedures training), and she’s gained a strong sense of respect for Natasha’s competence.

What’s baffling is how the SHIELD Emory has seen so far can possibly align with the one Natasha Romanoff seems to think she’s working for. Emboldened by a sliver of Tony’s audacious courage, Emory asks what Natasha thinks of SHIELD imprisoning a kidnapping victim without the means to contact friends, family, or former employer.

The agent’s response is to start up the car and head back toward SHIELD headquarters. The rest of the ride is silent, and Emory’s resentment rises with every tenth of a mile. Once back at the complex, Natasha parks and looks ahead for so many awkward seconds that Emory leans over to follow her gaze.

They’re parked in front of a placard that designates the spot for SHIELD parking only. Underneath the words are a sticker that warns that agency vehicles are surveillance monitored.

“I really am new at this,” Emory says sheepishly. She takes off the borrowed boots and offers them to Natasha, realizing belatedly that she should have done it earlier so the other woman didn’t have to drive barefoot. “Take these back, I’m sure you have a long day?” she offers.

“I’ll spend some of it raising hell about isolating you. You’re not a spy, you’re not quite an agent, but you shouldn’t be a prisoner.” Natasha takes the boots and puts them on, waving off the socks Emory offers. 

“I’m not ready to be any of the above! I look like a child in a trenchcoat, I’d make a terrible fake nurse, and… I mean…” Emory shakes her head, gesturing at Natasha Romanoff’s everything. “I don’t even belong in the building,” she mutters.

“A hawk-eyed assassin’s arrow can strike with precision, but his training can be nullified with an unpredictable wind. A spider’s size doesn’t diminish her sting, but she can be blown off course.” Natasha pushes the door open, turning her body away but tipping her head towards Emory to make eye contact for the first time since they parked. “Don’t underestimate what you can do.”

Natasha delivers the words in a tone so matter-of-fact that Emory almost feels chastised rather than encouraged. She sits in the car, shaken, until she realizes that the agent isn’t waiting for her. Scrambling out of the car, she sock power walks across the warm asphalt to catch up.

“How can you say that if I don’t even know what I can do?” she asks, still behind by a few paces. Natasha stops right where the parking lot meets the sidewalk, so Emory does too. The sun-warmed material heats up her feet like an impromptu ‘hot seat’ as they look at each other in the parking lot.

“Did you use your powers to help you and Stark escape the terrorists?” Natasha finally asks.

Emory refuses to adjust her stance, even if her burning feet are begging her to. “Yes.”

“Are you willing to use them to help us prevent anyone else from being blackmailed with that serum?” Natasha asks, the sharp tone at odds with her ‘two office girls at the water cooler’ body language.

“Excuse me,” a middle aged man in a suit says as he sidles past them onto the sidewalk.

“Of course,” Natasha says coyly, a full ten seconds later. The man’s gait hitches, and he clears his throat. Emory can’t help staring at her smug expression, and after another ten seconds, Natasha jerks her head back toward the man as he disappears into the Triskelion’s entrance. “Look at it this way: maybe someone decides to investigate our outing, sees him walk past us on the security footage.”

Emory gives up trying to seem tough and lifts one foot and then the other to ease the relentless sear of the blacktop’s heat transfer. As a result, Natasha steps up onto the sidewalk, moving close to the grass strip that leads toward the building, a small smile haunting her face. Emory gratefully follows, wondering what exactly the agent learned by her capitulation.

“If they ask that man what kind of shoes we had on,” Natasha continues, “There’s a high chance he’ll say black boots for both of us, even under oath. People see what they expect to see.”

“Doesn’t that only last as long as it takes for my proverbial arrow to miss?” Emory asks, enjoying the soothing cold floor of the atrium as they walk inside.

“That’s what the training is for. So you learn how to miss.”

Either something about being inside SHIELD headquarters makes Natasha Romanoff more confident, or her increased gait is another subtle test. Emory’s really close to mentally nicknaming her ‘Yinsen’ for the agent’s ability to make her feel similarly off-balance.

“Don’t you mean how not to miss?” she asks, jogging a bit to close the gap between them.

“Oh, that works itself out.” Natasha hits the elevator button and the doors immediately open. She settles herself against the back corner of the car in a casual position that looks like a photoshoot. “You’re a phone number memorizer, aren’t you?”

“Yes. The phone they put in my room doesn’t call out, though. I already tried,” Emory admits. She doesn’t add how lonely it had made her feel to realize she doesn’t even know how to contact Tony, and avoids eye contact in the resulting silence, until they reach the correct floor.

“Dialing 9 before calling out isn’t hardcoded. That’s your trivia for today,” Natasha says briskly as they walk out. After unlocking Emory’s door, Natasha steps inside and scans the room with a professionalism that has Emory once again wallowing in inadequacy. “New laptop, new phone, new chair, and they brought up your suitcase, good. I’ll write down what you’ll need for training, hold off on getting adventurous until I get you a schedule?”

“I can handle that. It was my job to be the wet blanket, after all.”

“So you’re saying you kept Stark alive, rather than the other way around?” 

Emory walks in, facing away from Natasha long enough to allow a rueful smile whose evidence leaks into her tone despite her best efforts. “No way. The man is a force of nature.”

“So are you, from what I’ve seen. Just need some control. It’ll be easier to teach that to you than to him.” Before Emory can really take in the full meaning of those words, Natasha leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms with an odd kind of satisfaction. “He’s connected to your power generation, isn’t he? Can I be the one to tell Fury?”

“Is this spy blackmail? Make it fun or I’ll sic the director on you? I’d be impressed if I weren’t so intimidated,” Emory tells her. She feels bad when Natasha straightens back up, her face tightening back into that of a SHIELD agent. “Oops. I didn’t mean to reactivate you, ‘Agent Romanoff,’” Emory says, backing into the room while doing the air quotes.

Natasha’s response to that is playful irritation, rather than formality. “That’s Stark talking.”

The implications of that sweeps through Emory like a tiny burst of joy. “The scare quotes were all me, but yeah, I guess you can. Tony’s--” she gasps, realizing the perfect way to put it, given the music Tony would riff to himself when deep in thought. “He’s my current. My AC/DC. The truth is, since the kidnapping I barely know myself compared to who I was before. I don’t want to let you down, but--”

“Okay, that first part is disgusting, I’m out of here,” Natasha interrupts with a teasing frown, reaching for the doorknob. She pauses and makes eye contact, her expression hardening for a frightening three seconds before her features shift back into the recognizable. “I might be Agent Romanoff here, but in the field, I’m called Black Widow. You don’t have to be all things at all times, Ms. Autumn, no matter what Hawkeye will tell you.”

The door clicks shut before Emory can ask who Hawkeye is, but it has to be Barton. It seems like maybe Agent Romanoff brought him up specifically because she wants Emory to think about how to support an archer and a close-combat fighter during their mission, if things go wrong.

Since there’s not much else to do besides go through the suitcase that represents a part of herself she doesn’t want to deal with right now, Emory grabs her notebook and starts jotting down ideas.

Next chapter: Tony gets Pepper's help to remove his old ARC, and Emory learns she can uproot trees with her MIND.

#tony stark x oc #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x original character #tony stark imagine #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark #series: autonomy #ocfairygodmother #fyeahsuperverseocs

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Wanted to share more bits from the brothel fic idea the bits on this post were taken from, so Enjoy.

---

Si Pi's Garden of Lovelies was a long way from home. The girl hardly slept a wink for the three day journey. She had never seen a carriage so close before, let alone rode in one or stayed the night in one, since they didn't go to a single inn. Her escort was a genteel man dressed in silk. He carried a knife in his belt and held it in his hand when he slept. His eyes snapped open at the slightest sound and he granted her no privacy when she needed to relieve herself. A handful of times she woke to him stroking her hair or tracing her lips. "Poor girl," he'd say, "what I'd do if you were mine."

There was a driver who didn't speak to her, and the escort mainly corrected her posture. When she arrived, Si Pi examined her like livestock.

"We'll get you set up with a wardrobe and a name," she said, taking the girl to a furnished room with a bed in the corner, "and then pair you with a girl for some training. We can't have you entertaining customers like a bumpkin, I have a reputation to maintain."

How much the girl wanted to say I already have a name, but she had been warned about talking back to her housemother. She nodded instead. And then, as if eager to defy, her stomach gave a loud growl.

"Stars in the sky, child!" Si Pi exclaimed. "Did they not feed you the entire ride over?"

"I..." she thought how to explain sucinctly to not waste the woman's time, but between the bumpy roads, the loneliness, the fear of the destination.... "I had trouble eating, housemother."

"No matter," the housemother said. Take a seat, I'll have something brought up, and then straight to bed."

She did as she was bid, only to be corrected again.

"And sit up straight! All you do reflects on me now."

Y-yes, housemother," she said, straightening her back. "I'm sorry."

"And I'll have that stuttering habit broken. One of your sisters here will help."

"Yes, housemother."

She gave the girl a piercing look, and nodded in scarce satisfaction before leaving the room.

The position her escort had taught her in the carriage, one hand pushing her collarbone back and the other pushing the small of her back forward and holding his hands there for longer than she was comfortable with, felt unnatural after years of helping with planting and harvest. Her shoulders felt too far back and she thought she would tip over on the divan and fall back from lack of balance. But that was what was expected of her now.

A boy close to her in age wearing a kitchen uniform brought a bowl of congee and a small plate of dates with a pot of ginger tea for her upset tummy.

"Make sure you eat all the dates before drinking all your tea," he cautioned. "Otherwise your teeth will rot out."

She tried to nod with a thankful smile the way ladies were always described doing in the stories, but it must have been wrong because she caught his attention.

"Your the new girl," he said. "Did they find you in the countryside?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, wondering if Si Pi would glare at her for such informal and unrefined language.

"Did the man in the cab ask if you were a virgin?"

Indignation consumed her and she looked him in the eye, intending to ask how that could be an appropriate question, but his eyes were honest and concerned. Not a hint of taunting or self-satisfaction in them. She thought about it. There were times he almost asked her about herself, but he had trailed off when he leered into the gaps where her collar didnt lay flat against her chest. She shook her head no.

"Then move your chamber pot away from the door before bed." And with that he left.

She didn't understand at first, as the door to her room was in the opposite corner of the bed and the closet that held the chamber pot. Upon closer inspection, however, she saw that behind the chamber pot was another door, locked from the other side. She did as the kitchen boy asked before crawling into the bed and falling asleep.

It was early when he woke her. Still dressed in the clothes she arrived in, she followed him silently through the door in the closet. He held her hand to better guide her, though the way was too narrow for them to walk abreast each other, and produced a small, gentle flame in his hand to light the way. Once they had gotten down stairs that went deeper than the building's ground floor, he explained.

"This passageway connects all the rooms together," he said. "The girls use it if they have to be discreet about entertaining more than one man a night. It also goes to the larder."

He closed his fingers over the palm that bore his flame, extinguishing it, and nudged on the wall, freeing a plank from its place and letting the color of sunrise pool in. This revealed that on the other side of the passageway was an alcove meant for storage, but floored with cushions and decorated in the corners with dried flowers.

"A housemother only has one reason for wanting girls who live miles from other families," he continued, taking he hand again when she flinched. "Buyers know what to look for and their judgment is considered enough, even when they don't get confirmation. Sometimes they make mistakes."

"What do you mean?"

"I've taken other girls here, miss," he explained further, "doing the same work you will when you're all trained up. I know how, and I've been told I'm good at it. You don't have to be broken in by the highest bidder."

She looked up at him, almost expecting it to turn out to be a sick, cruel joke after all, but his eyes were frank. His offer was made in ernest.

"I can take you back to your room," he said, "and forget I ever brought you her. I just wanted to give you the op--"

She interrupted him with a kiss.

He didn't pull away or make her stop. When she finished, he simply asked her, "Yes?"

And she answered, "Yes," and her shaking hands went to his sash to untie it.

Everything he did was with all the gentleness of a mother bathing her infant. From running his fingers down her back and up her thighs to placing her under the dried flowers on the cushioned floor and pressing a line of kisses in her skin from her jaw to her hip, all was done with care. He fiddled with a thing of glossy, see-though intestestine before laying his weight on her. Unfamiliar sensations in places she had only touched when washing before and underneath her skin overwhelmed her to quiet tears, and though there was a bit of pressure and even some pain, it was not wholly unpleasant. There wasn't even a trace of the bridal blood mentioned in the raunchy jokes and stories drunk men would tell at the equinox festivals when the kitchen boy had finished.

Dancing dust motes glittered in the light of the sun as they dressed. She tried to tell the boy her name but he hushed her, claiming he had already taken something from her and no right to take anything else. He put the loosened board back in its place, and with one hand holding the girl's and the other holding a flame, he walked her back to her room. She settled in the bed again, commiting to memory the flood of warmth that washed over her from the inside out in that dark, chilly passageway with a trickle of sunlight. She was sure it would comfort her in the days to come.

She hadn't even gotten a chance to fall back asleep before housemother Si Pi burst into her room dragging that same kitchen boy by the ear.

"Get up, girl," she demanded. "I caught this little rat washing out a bit of sewn gut on working hours. Do you know anything of it?"

The girl made a conscious effort to stand straight before the housemother when she spoke. "I...." She expected to be scolded for her faltering anyway and stole a glance at the boy. Pitch black curls of hair that were supposed to be kept in his cap spilled out into brow and the bruise on his cheek mirrored the shape of Si Pi's rings. "I asked for him, housemother," she claimed. "I'm sorry, it's just that he looked so much like my sweetheart back home, I wanted to know if it felt the same with him."

The boy's eyes filled with concern again as the housemother said "I suppose that's my own fault, assuming youth means virtue." She gave an exasperated sigh and continued, "Still, I can't have you thinking these things don't have consequences." She nudged the side of the girl's palm with a closed folding fan. "Hands out, girl. And you," she directed at the bruised kitchen boy, "don't you look away. You know by now what is your duty to do and your duty to not do. You're guilty here as well." With that, she brought the stacked bamboo and silk of her fan down on the girl's knuckles with devastating force.

The yelped and yanked her hands away, only for the housemother to angry put them back in position, saying, "Remember, dear, this body stopped being yours when it was sold to me for fifteen years of use. You are to do with it as I command, and I command you hold out your hands."

The girl whimpered in pain as she endured nine more strikes to the knuckles, but her hands stayed put. Si Pi told the boy to fetch ice water for the girl's fingers before they swelled and she had to wait to take measurements for rings and then report to her office when he was done. When he left, all her attention turned to the girl again.

"A smarter woman than I would have thrown you out and demanded your price back from your parents," she said, "but my soft heart cried mercy for you. Don't you think that deserves some gratitude?"

"Th... thank you, housemother," she said trying to hold back tears of pain and shame.

The housemother grimaced at the stuttering but turned to leave, saying, "You may sit," over her shoulder as she retired to her office.

She sat on the divan as she did to eat the night before, back straight and shoulders back in case Si Pi intended to scold her some more. The kitchen boy scampered in with a bowl of ice water he placed on the girl's lap and placed her hands into, taking half a moment to squeeze her wrist and stroke it with his thumb in a soothing gesture before dashing off to the office as commanded.

Her hands and lap had gone numb from the cold water by the time her door was opened again.

"The housemother tells me your name is Meihua." It was one of the lovelies mentioned in the name of the establishment. "Are you from the country, Meihua?"

"I am, miss," she answered, hoping that was the proper form of address to her new elder sister.

"You can call me Lanhua," the young lady said, lowering her voice before continuing. "That's not my name and Meihua isn't yours, but it's what we'll be called here."

Meihua nodded to show her understanding.

"You should also know," she went on in that same hushed tone, "your speaking up for Madhur saved his job. But i wouldn't do it again."

Madhur was a handsome name. The girl -- Meihua, she reminded herself -- Meihua thought it fit his marigold-colored eyes and the hairs at the meeting of his brows in the shape of a jewel between them.

"Did you take a last look?" Lanhua asked, gesturing at the mirror.

"Why is it the la-- oh," she realized. Meihua's new sister was so polished, with her grooming and her powder and her posture and her stylish coiffure and her graceful movements. Soon, her brows would be plucked and delicately shaped and all her freckles washed away in smooth white, her hair pulled and stacked according to the fashion of the hour, and her clumsy footsteps replaced with dainty ones. She touched her nose, her mother's nose, on its noticeable bump and wondered how defined it would be with a powdered face.

"It'll still be your face and body, after all," Lanhua said, placing a sympathetic hand on her new sister's shoulder and looking into her reflection's eyes. She leaned closer to her ear and continued in a whisper. "In the same sense that your name will be Meihua."

Meihua nodded. She didn't trust herself to not stutter on the words "I understand."

#sex work mention #brothel fic idea

[ainyan]

Flirting

The door slid shut behind Ciprys and she engaged the locks, rubbing her forehead as she sighed. “Damn it, Risha,” she muttered as she shrugged out of her jacket, tossing the leather coat carelessly on her bed. She began to unbuckle her holster, then paused, eyes narrowing. “Oh for the love of - how the hell did you get onto my ship?”

“Will you really insult me by asking that?” Stretched out in her desk chair, Theron Shan raised one eyebrow at the Chiss. “I mean, you’ve got great security, but we’re talking me here. C’mon Ciprys,” he added in a wheedling tone, “don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me.”

She didn’t want to be. The spy who sat before her with that charming smile and those sly hazel eyes was a complication she neither needed nor wanted in her life. Risha might make light of her habits, but her lightskirt reputation had been quite calculated. “Yeah, sure, Shan, I’m always happy to see a handsome face.” Her smile was coy as she swept past him, ruffling a hand over his hair. “Just stop by for a reprise of our farewells on Yavin? I might have time to oblige.”

He reached up to snag her wrist, holding her fast, and felt her tension immediately ratchet up. “I didn’t say that,” he replied mildly, watching her as she stared at the far wall. “I saw you were on planet and thought we could talk.”

“I already told you once,” she replied shortly, “I’m not interested in being an SIS mole. I have a lot of good, valuable clients that might be put off by the idea. If you want to tangle up my sheets, Shan, let’s go. Otherwise, I’ve got stuff to do before the manifest comes in.”

He didn’t release her wrist, even though she tugged experimentally, testing his grip. “Almost perfect. I’d have bought it on Rishi - I did buy it on Rishi,” he corrected, feeling her stiffen. “But you slipped up on Yavin. You almost had me completely fooled.”

When she yanked her wrist again, he let her go and she jerked backwards, rubbing at her hand. “What you see is what you get, Shan. I’m about as deep as Corso.”

The spy steepled his fingers before him as he met her bland scarlet gaze. “Having looked into your white knight, I’m pretty sure that’s far more insulting to you than to him,” he replied, and she bit back a bark of laughter. “You are definitely more than you appear,” he added, more soberly, and her mirth fled. “I get why you pretend otherwise - but you can’t fool me again, Ciprys. No backwater bumpkin is going to manipulate the head of the Dark Council with such precision.”

She turned away from him, still rubbing her wrist. “Everyone has moments, Shan,” she muttered. “Mine are few and far between. I’m exactly as I appear. A hotshot smuggler from beyond the Outer Rim whose big goal is to get rich and retire young, preferably with a bevy of pretty young men. And if you’re looking to be one of those,” she shot over her shoulder, “alienating me ain’t gonna get you there.”

“Bullshit,” he countered pleasantly, and her eyes went hot. “I’ve seen your accounts - all of them,” he added before she could retort. “I know your contacts. You could retire today and never lift another finger for the rest of your life and never want for anything - even with the funds you sink into some schools out in the Outer Rim.” She could hear the puzzlement in his voice.

Ciprys grunted. “Kids gotta learn, and they don’t always have options out in the back of beyond. What does the SIS care what I do with my money?” He noticed, curiously, that she didn’t seem particularly upset by the intrusion into her privacy - or even surprised.

Theron closed his eyes, sighing. “For the SIS, they care because you’re Chiss,” he replied flatly. “Any Chiss in Republic space is suspect - don’t tell me you didn’t know that. For me, I just want to know you better.”

She made a disgruntled noise. “Look, Shan,” she snapped, whirling around and stabbing a finger towards his chest, “you and me, we’re from different galaxies, but we got a few things in common. One of those things is that we’re both players, not stayers. We had fun - and it was some great fun - but that’s all it was.”

His hazel eyes held a glint that she found disconcerting. “Then it shouldn’t be any problem for you to join me for a caf while you wait on your manifest,” he replied with a slow smile. “Just between friends. Nothing to worry about.”

“Theron Shan, I am absolutely certain that that phrase and you shouldn’t be within shouting distance of each other,” came the captain’s exasperated retort. His grin only increased her irritation - and her wariness. “Seriously? You want to have a cup of caf? You don’t have to seduce me, spyboy. You already did that,” she added dryly.

Theron watched her with infuriating patience. “Caf and conversation. That’s all I want.”

Ciprys was at a loss. She was no stranger to clingy males; the cost of playing around meant that occasionally one ran across a man who didn’t understand the concept of a one-night stand. But she knew she hadn’t misread the spy - he was as likely as she to have ‘one in every port’ as the old saw went. 

So why the hell was he so insistent on dragging this out? Some SIS operation? Concern from up top about the carte blanche they’d given her after Yavin?

No, too heavy handed.

Did he really just want caf? “Fine,” she finally replied shortly, eyes narrowing at the triumphant glint in his gaze. “Some caf, some conversation. We can just nip into the kitchen…”

“Nope. Know a nice little place in the Galactic Market sector. Quiet, out of the way, most of the clientele are people like you and me.”

She blinked. “You want to go out?” she asked flatly, then, “and there is no you and me. There is no one like you and me, because you and me are antithetical to each other.”

Theron’s lips quirked. “Do you even know what it sounds like when you say words like ‘antithetical’ in that country bumpkin’s voice? Is it just me that breaks your cover, or does it crack every time you get frustrated?” Before she could reply, he shook his head. “No, I’ve seen you stay perfect under pressure. I’m flattered.”

The heat in her eyes would have seared a lesser man to cinders. “You’re about to be flattened,” she growled, and when he grinned, she snapped her teeth at him. “By the Flame, Theron Shan, what the hell is your malfunction? I know I’m good, but I’m not that damn good.” She paused. “Well, okay, I am that damn good.” She caught sight of the laughter in his eyes. “Disagree?”

Theron spread his hands. “How about that caf?” he deflected, levering himself up from the chair and coming to his feet. “Ciprys,” he added softly as she hesitated, “I really just want to talk. No grand conspiracies here. No convoluted plans. I’m not trying to recruit you, and I know you’re loyal to us. I just want to talk to you - as friends.”

Friends. What a strange concept. Ciprys sighed, rubbing her neck. “Fine,” she muttered. “Fine, you win, Shan. Let’s go get some caf.” She snagged her jacket from the bed. “Dunno what you expect me to tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Well,” he replied as he followed her out of her cabin, past the gaping Risha and spluttering Corso, “for one thing, what’s the story behind the akk dog?”

Ciprys glanced towards where the spiky crimson creature lay beneath the table, watching her with huge dark eyes. “What, Mongo? Some idiot Houk was teasing him as a puppy. Put a stop to it and he wouldn’t stop following me. I’ll be back,” she told Risha, biting back a grin at the smuggler’s dumbfounded expression. “Patch that manifest through as soon as you get it.”

Brown eyes blinked rapidly. “I - uh - yes… yes, captain,” she sputtered. “Captain, I…”

Ciprys lifted a hand, waving at her crew as the door cycled open and she led Theron from the freighter.

As the door slid shut behind her, Risha turned to stare at Corso and Akavi, who had come out at the commotion and was peering curiously after her boss. “Who the hell was that? What the hell was that?”

The Zabraki Mandalorian rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “That was Shan,” she pointed out. “The one she worked with on Rishi and Yavin. I did not know he was on board.”

“Neither did I,” Corso and Risha replied together, exchanging a bewildered glance. The Mantellian sighed and scrubbed at his jaw. “Knew she could smuggle damn near anything,” he muttered, then turned and walked away.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #swtor smuggler #swtor chiss #smuggler x theron shan #not ffxiv #sorry not sorry #meet ciprys #cipari'rys'nuru

[jonnyardor]

Distorted

You could have enough money to show off and not worry about rent

Whether you own mansions or sleep in a tent

Problems dont dissolve into thin air because of salaries

Be it mental health, self-esteem or feuds with family

For me, your ugly reality was more appealing

I thought we'd stick together, you wound up disappearing

Your verdict of me pronounced without a hearing

You lost the sparkle in your eyes, I hope youre healing

Overworked, underpaid, insincere, immature

Emotionally, not dealing with your inner world appropriately

Unfortunately, looking in the wrong places romantically

God denied his victory until he aims for purity

In humility and courage, not for a false sense of security

This world feasts on heathens and spits out their bones so easily

Everything we think we own, will rot and wither equally

Love is all we have to give and get to live here peacefully

--

[Chorus]

Distorted-Like walking in a house of mirrors

Distorted-Falling prey to the perception

Distorted-illusions are reflected on the glass

And projected from an insecure mindset in our heads

Dont puff up your chest

Big lies made you notorious

You want money and fame,

This means more to us

We want the truth, no comfortable simulation

There's nothing inherently wrong with us

You live a lie, afraid to face your situation

Like Pinocchio smoking that Morpheus

Jesus is my savior, he turned me into a warrior

Jonny Ardor has a mission , holy man makes holy art

I dont need a man's permission, movin on my own accord

I dont keep insane traditions, dancing to my beat and rhythms

Brothers that refuse to listen, speaking to be heard and seen

All the time, a web of lies, hoping they wont realize

For real, guys? More company?

Gaining the whole world, I see

People pleaser, anxious yet charming

Not self-aware, but self-conscious and wanting

Everyone to like you when you dont like yourself

Avoiding those who love the real you and know that you avoid yourself

She was your sister when you were a real guy

Chastised and traumatized by the same parents

Laughing and crying together, facing every weather

She pulled you out of your depression when you had no ends

She was a student that managed to pay off your debt

But you were mean when you worked and she had no means

She never blamed you for her score and delayed degree

She was hurt cuz strangers knew early about her pregnancy

She was hurt because you didnt respond with warmth and glee

She was hurt because you were gossipping where she had to sleep

She needed you emotionally but you werent to be seen

Too busy for her, but my sister gets you talking on the phone

Gets you to come to the house where you happen to encounter us

Gets you to go to concerts, I heard you drove down hours

You were my lady's best man, that year you were the worst man

Saying we wont make it as a couple,

Disregarding that were shunned while we struggle

You were the black sheep too, narcisstistic mom and dad

but you're used to altering the story of your past

Now you start to confuse what is true

Fabricated history, my wife has proof

Always believed in who you are and were supposed to be

You took for granted the pure heart of your little sis

Said what you knew she liked to hear but did the opposite

You switched up on her for your in-laws who despise their brother

Us three had deep talk, they are strangers, you dont know each other

How long will you keep the lies to impress each other?

It's funny how you never argue, you lie to each other

Because they forsake their children who dont fit their picture

Once it was only us, now you chill with omnibus

Kept your bad habits, sacrificed our relationship

Lost my train of thought, mind going places like a spaceship

Remember when you used to chill with us and babysit

That one time in Hamburg, when my spouse and I saw Burna spit

While you agreed on Halloween to hold our boy and wipe his shit

Our girlfriends said that he was fussy, cried and screamed and threw a fit

We never had support like this, our baby wasnt used to it

To mom and dad not being around, our friends dressed up and held it down

He was asleep when we returned,

Respect for everyone was earned,

We talked and laughed, watching you flirt

With a girl in the kitchen, twirling her hair

The party went on, drinks did burn

Our throats, and cheeks, how did I yearn

For this time to get loose, while my son was tucked in

8 months, baby, I was burnt out and locked in

Good to have you there, to be more than a parent

Every now and then, because my life's a McLaren

Losing track of time, not control of my faculties

We have had many good times for the memories

At least you admit your mistakes, but we need an explanation

If we're not among your top priorities

There's no need for continuation

If its make-believe we grow apart, I gotta let you go

I just want apologies with accountability,

I expect loyalty and honesty,

I just wanna hug my bro and let it go

Accepting the time spent apart, Forgiveness is the start

Believing in each other again as sister and brother

Choosing to call each other after the civil war

Damned if our egos got in the way of love

Embracing our flaws, without resting in them

Your rich stepdad is still a major jerk

Love cant be bought, billionaires get divorced

If they left you for money, they werent meant for you

Your sister's happily married, showing you how it could be

She hates to argue with her man, they're tired of struggling too

Unlike your mama, who got trips and beaten black and blue

A warm embrace can heal your pain once you accept yourself

A girl can change your life, not trophies, dusty on a shelf

I stayed up at night to write these words

To express my pain and cleanse me off my hurt

A lot of things did sting and irk me

Cant we be again like JD and Turk?

Love is worth the wait and work

Just make sure that it's mutual

Cuz when they care much less about you

You will keep chasing those who keep running from you

#musician #producer #independent artist #hiphop #christian blog #writer #christian music #soundcloud #youtube #faith #distorted #brother #Outgrowing #notes

[primamchorus]

A Night Out

So many responsibilities, stacked and stacked and stacked. Weighing upon the shoulders of one who generally only wants to keep her head down and follow the rules. If the rules are followed, no one gets in trouble. If the rules are followed, perhaps she is rewarded. Perhaps the reward is a well deserved night out.

Word count: 1,956

“A-a what?” Primam seemed surprised and confused by what she had just been told.

“A girls’ night out, Prim! You damn well need one after everything that’s been going on,” a girl her age had been saying. “We know you don’t have work over this next weekend, so just…y’know, come with us for a little bit! We’ll head down to Cosmos -- let loose and have fun!”

Primam adjusted the books she had at her desk before putting them away in her school bag. She mulled over the prospect of heading out to Cosmos, especially after everything that she had to deal with in recent weeks. Though she had not told any of her friends, the idea of going out to a karaoke bar felt…well, off and odd.

“I…I don’t know, Venus…” Primam finally spoke, glancing up at the ginger-haired girl. The response made Venus puff her cheeks a bit.

“Prim! You barely have any time to yourself! You have to deal with being class rep, training under the tutelage of the current Arms of the King and other Crownsguard, and balancing your job at the Balamb Gardens on top of all of that!” Venus pressed, reaching out and grabbing Primam’s arm to shake it gently with her urging.

“Priiiiimmmm, please!” Venus begged.

Reaching down to clasp her school bag closed with her free hand, Primam picked it up by the handle and looked back at Venus with a diffident smile. For now, she was simply glad that her makeup hid the serious bags under her eyes; it was a habit made since that one comment from another classmate of hers that had pointed it out one time during their lunch period.

“Who else is coming?” Primam finally asked.

Venus immediately perked up, her hazel eyes sparkling with joy as she beamed. Clutching Primam’s hand and jumping up and down excitedly, Venus replied with: “I managed to convince a few people. Stella was more than excited to get to go to Cosmos! A-and Gloria and Spe also wanted to come when I brought it up!”

“... Spe?” Primam asked questioningly.

“Mhm! She was also really looking forward to coming out! She’s never been to the karaoke bar!” Venus replied, finally letting go of Primam’s hand. “I guess if you’re asking who’s coming, then you’ll be there?”

Primam only kept that sheepish expression on her face while offering a shrug in response; “I suppose we’ll see what ends up happening.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night of the proposed ‘girls’ night out’ had come quicker than Primam thought it would. She had been busy studying the art of elemancy -- something she had grown passionate about after finding out just how good she was at controlling the King’s magic for training. Since having been bestowed her own blessing of the King that granted her access to the Crystal’s power, Primam had been training with her brother in seeing just how well they could master their warps and elemental control.

Rushing to throw on some nice clothes consisting of a loose white and blue striped tee, a black denim vest, and equally black denim capris, Primam was quick to use the bathroom so that she could brush her hair in the mirror. The sight of her silvery white hair was always cause for some minor concern…though she pushed her self-conscious thoughts away as she brushed and then braided her hair to be as presentable as possible without trying too hard.

“Jeez, where’s the fire, sis?” Tandem called out, watching as Primam hurried out of the bathroom to get her purse and then slip her white flats on.

“Sorry, Tan! I have somewhere to be tonight! Food’s situated in the fridge! Bought more garula flank, potatoes, carrots, and spinach if you wanted to cook tonight! Found your shopping list this morning,” Primam hurriedly said, double checking her purse and making sure she had everything.

Phone, wallet, keys, feminine products, gum, tissues….

“And…where are you going?” Tandem asked, folding his arms over his chest while cocking an incredulous brow.

“Out with Venus and some of the other girls from school! No boys!” Primam said, opening the door and slipping out. She then opened the door back up and looked at her brother. “If you don’t feel like cooking, I picked up a konbini grilled mackerel meal since I know you like that.”

Before Tandem could say anything, Primam closed the door once more to their shared apartment and briskly walked down the hallway toward the elevator to take her leave of the building. Pulling out a black card with the crest of Insomnia on it, Primam held it up to the sensor of the elevator, calling it with haste.

Once it arrived, however, there was a voice that called to her.

“Hold the elevator, please!”

The voice gave Primam a reason to pause as she looked down the hall. A familiar blond was running to meet her, and the white-haired Arm found her interest piqued.

“Thank you--ah, Prim!?” The blond seemed shocked, and Primam could only offer him a small wave of greeting before the two of them boarded the elevator car. Once the elevator was finally on its way down, the blond went on: “I didn’t expect you to be here. Were you also visiting the Prince?”

“N-no…” Primam said, not sure if she wanted to start idle conversation like this with her classmate. “I-I mean! My brother and I know that he lives here, but we also l-live here at…a-at the Caelum Via. King Regis actually…set everything up for us.”

“... Huh… You know, for royal retainers in training, you seem to have a lot more freedom than Ignis or Gladio…” the blond mused, rubbing his chin.

“Eh?” Primam seemed surprised by the statement. Shaking her head, she looked down at her feet and fidgeted. “S-sorry, Prompto. You actually have it kind of wrong. I feel like it only seems that way because my brother and I… We…we’re always having to juggle what we do as best we can. Gladio’s the Shield, Ignis the Hand, Tandem and I the Arms… Then you have Mollis as the Eyes, Ros the Heart, and any of the Vox siblings as the Ears. Each of our stations differ -- we’re taught this growing up. We Arms stay within arm’s length of Noctis that we might jump into action as soon as possible should a problem arise.”

The elevator remained silent for a time as it continued its descent. For Primam, it felt like ages when normally it would feel just like another day. She watched the buttons on the panel light up with each floor they passed.

18. 17. 16. 15….

“So where are you headed now, anyway?” Prompto finally asked. He glanced over at Primam, lifting his hands so that they were laced behind his head. “Just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of your school or work uniform, that’s all.”

14. 13. 12. 11….

“Ah…? Oh! I was just headed to a karaoke bar with…Venus and some other classmates…. That, um, that Cosmos place by the West Gate plaza. I…I have some time off, and Venus invited me…” Primam replied, both hands going to clutch the strap of her purse. Her gaze fell from the panel to the floor of the elevator.

Silence lingered between them, and Primam could swear she felt Prompto’s gaze on her the entire time.

“You don’t really seem excited about going,” Prompto observed, noting Primam’s lack of enthusiasm in the fact that she still seemed distant and detached from the idea. “S-sorry, maybe it’s not really my place to say anything! I-I mean, you look nice and ready and all… Just…the way you carry yourself makes it feel like you’re just attending another obligation. Like everything you do as class representative.”

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the doors opened with a ding. However, Primam found herself staring at Prompto after his statement. A look of realization and surprise were both evident on her face, and she pursed her lips.

“... D-does it really seem that way?” Primam finally asked, her expression falling as she left the elevator with her classmate. She paused just outside its doors as Prompto walked ahead. However, when he noticed that Primam had halted, he also stopped and turned back to look in her direction.

Bringing a hand to his chin, Prompto hummed in thought as he gazed up at the ceiling.

“You know… You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Prompto mentioned. “It’s your time off, and if you don’t get a lot of time, maybe you should do something you’d want to do instead?”

“What do you suggest?” Primam asked, making Prompto look at her in surprise before shaking his head.

“No, no!” Prompto hurriedly replied, waving a hand to dismiss the question. “It’s not about what I can recommend or tell you to do. Today should be about you and what you want to do! Like, uh… M-Maybe you want to check out the new arcade cabinet at ViVi? O-or, uh…what do girls like…? Oh! Maybe try a new fragrance or lip balm at BG&WD!” Primam thought about Prompto’s words for a moment. She never really played video games, but she did sometimes get some stuff ordered from BG&WD in terms of makeup. Just some concealer, usually. She did lose a lot of sleep a lot of the time.

“... What if…I just spent today with you?” Primam asked, looking up.

“Eh!?” Prompto seemed more surprised than Primam could ever recall seeing him. He scratched his cheek nervously, an equally nervous smile gracing his lips. “I-I mean…if that’s what you’d like? If you don’t mind? I’m not really going anywhere special. Noct’s got ‘royal obligations’, and so I got a lot of free time. I was going to go to Hirofuta’s to look at some of the camera accessories and development fluid. I got a lot of photos I wanted to develop.”

Primam lifted a hand to her mouth, hiding the small smile that appeared.

“I think I’d like that a lot more than going to a karaoke bar…. I don’t even like singing. Not in front of people, anyway…” Primam admitted. She seemed more relaxed after it seemed Prompto showed he was amenable to her accompanying him. “If…you’re not too terribly busy, perhaps you can show me around Insomnia? I don’t get to travel the city much. Not properly, anyway.”

“Really? That’s just… I see Gladio out quite a bit -- bastard scolds us sometimes if he catches us at the arcade--” Prompto stopped himself before walking ahead and motioning for Primam to follow along after him. “That aside! I can show you quite a bit. How do you feel about animals? I like stopping at Bastet to look at all the cute little puppies and kitties that are up for adoption. Oh! And what about vegetarian meals? Clock Out’s pretty good for that!”

“Um… Well,” Primam shrugged, falling into step alongside her classmate and hopefully someone who considered her a friend? “H-how about we simply make an adventure out of it? Just whatever catches our eyes? It’d be a first for me, just going wherever in the city!”

“Then an adventure it is! The first of Primam and Prompto’s ventures in the concrete jungle of Insomnia!” Prompto announced, pointing a finger to the doors with a grin. He went over the top with his motions as he posed in a way that reminded Primam of the cheesy action shows on television. She raised her hand to her mouth once more, giggling softly at the display.

It seemed that this evening would certainly shape up to be an interesting one! Certainly more interesting than clamming up at a karaoke bar.

#old #ffxv #ffxv writing #my writing #ffxv oc #oc: primam chorus #oc: venus gratia #oc: tandem chorus #prompto argentum #ship: quicksilver dancers #my friend convinced me to upload this old self-indulgent fic ksjdf

[linggluu]

2023 wrap up!

i just woke up from an hour log nap because i've had this migraine since tuesday :D (not covid) but i needed to get this all out with a nice, one direction comfort playlist in the background. what a year i have lived.

january - went on my first work trip (flying) in my life to north dakota! the bad thing about the NE is that you CAN drive everywhere. i've driven all up and down the east coast just for work , and my customers are literally 20 minutes from my office so i can always drive there but january was the first week i had to fly

february - started going to the gym consistently for the first time since middle school with my best friend. this lasted all the way until july but i'm still in the habit :)

march - discovered the strange tales of the tang dynasty. refreshing bc i haven't watched an (ancient) mystery/thriller in such a long time. lu ling feng and i share a last name! I NEVER SHARE THE SAME NAME WITH ANY ONE IN A CDRAMA.

april - big fight with jeff. discussing our future and how much $$ we're gonna need if we're actually going to get a house. he thought i shouldn't be bitching because i have a "good job" which made a good salary. whoa buddy, i have to keep myself alive. this was a fight that last months especially because he's in florida right now with NO JOB and NOT finishing his degree. at least pick ONE and do it. Someone has to stress around here and it clearly ain't him. am i wasting my time? we've known each other for so long, we are comfortable with each other other, if we dated other people we'd both be crushed? but i don't think we have the same goals.

may - delia still in the office. she's afraid of calling customers to tell them about deliveries. she's afraid of talking to drivers. she was so hard to train because she WOULD not pick up the phone. and she ate all the snacks in the office. and she ordered so much so stuff for herself because it was free. 5 months in and she was still afraid to talk to people. maybe this isn't the job for you? she got transferred out of my office THANK GOD

june - tensions rising in the house again. $$. getting married. my mom is getting on my nerves because she thinks i'm getting behind in life because i'm 30 and not married. and she wants me to get married BY my birthday in October or in December or by January. i'm not ready, i'm not in the mindset. she needs money, she also needs an ego boost of saying "my kid is married". i'm tired of coming home and walking on eggshells, wondering when she'll come and bother me. i'm tired of her sharing stress on me. i'm tried of her asking me for money all the time because i can't save. she keeps asking when i'm gonna bring jeff over but i never have because i don't want associating the good thing in my life with the bad thing. without the restaurant, she's even more annoying.

july - my mom started asking for $ again. A bulk of my check every month. my career and finances are finally getting steady because i'm in a nice groove now and i can save. stop asking me for money! the shitty thing is i found out my sis was slowly moving stuff out (she found an apartment of her own in may , i also found a house.) but she was denying it smh rude. my mom stopped me from moving out but not lili because i'm soft. and because "i owed her an explanation about jeff" . i don't owe her shit and i don't want to tell her anything about my personal life.

i moved all my shit out on July 7th which was a Friday. I was in the middle of a move while mom called me and cheerfully asked about if we were going to RI over the weekend and i faked it. liz helped me move and got me stuff for the room. air purifier, clothing rack, a mixer, a clothing chest thingy. i'm so lucky to have her.

that whole day was was so exhausting and terrifying because i was trying to move all my shit out while she was at work. a few days before this sister and brother in law gave me a spare bed and desk for free. they also helped me rent a box truck to get all this over. forever grateful. but at the end of that friday night, i was so exhausting i was SHAKING. then i typed out a long text message to my mom and shut off the phone.

i was afraid to turn it out, i cried all night because what kind of daughter ditches her parents like that and lies? i was so miserable that first night and first week. i was on the phone with liz all night and she was about to come sleep over.

why doesn't my mom ever ask stan for money? god i'm tired.

哭完以后还是一条好汉。

august - my mom kept calling me but i kept ignoring her. i didn't read her text message reply but one message i read she said 你真的狗卑鄙. how dramatic do you have to be? you used me my whole life to work my entire life , denied me of many opportunities and i didn't have the balls to leave until my younger siblings left because i was still trying to be a good daughter. life goes on. went on vacation to Philly with Lili and Stan at the end of august. my roommates C and K are nice :) one is a teacher one works for the state. both nice and clean girls just trying to live out here. everyone is clean, respects each other's privacy and safe. K has a cat named Gnocchi who totally runs the house. i love him ;;

september - life is settling in to a nice groove. work. gym. home. 三点一线。C is taiwanese so we get along great - culturally + food ;; she asked me to go to the cat shelter bc she wants to adopt another cat. this was the right choice. i make enough $$ to rent an apartment like lili but still the bulk of one check. not that worth it. i'm so lucky i found this older house. we all have our own rooms and i got the garage spot. the house is also owned by the same landlord who owns the apartment complex behind us! lawn, snow all done by him! i made the right choice. to live with roommates and kind of experience that college life i never got to experience, except it's work and i go to work now instead of class. is it weird or nah. but it's a good feeling. i don't like to be lonely and jeff's not here and all my friends are doing their own things and we live every where.

october - birthday month! i'm 31 and i'm fucking old. life is good in terms i don't have to come back to stress or the pressure of getting married or giving up my pay check like i'm still in high school. started rewatching naruto yay. still learning how to be an account manager. drivers and alberto and james and joe piss me off . i'm still too soft.

somewhere between october and november , i visited pioneer again. i miss it so much. i miss making medicine.

november - made up with jeff. we're going to his friend chris's wedding in july , the same weekend as jeff's birthday. lili also gave me her gaming pc. been playing games :D jeff also recommended me some games to get. thanksgiving was chill. went to boston with chelsea. spent too much money and time was too short. yay.

december - all of a sudden, it's the last day of december.

K had an Xmas party two weeks ago. I invited Lila, Sara and Liz. We ended up watching 一念关山 in my room. Christine stayed in her room and didn't mingle. For both Xmas and New Year's Chelsea asked if I wanted to spend it with her family but on Xmas I spent it with sibs and right now, I've been sick since LAST Saturday. I'm so grateful to her because she knows i'm not with family.

started back our ksll group chat. i miss my friends.

All in all, this was a crazy year. but i think i'm happy.

2024 goals:

lose weight (specifically 40-50 pounds by July) it's gonna be rough ugh

amp up my resume. promotion? new job?

save money/be more responsible about money

have a healthier life style

travel more.

deuces.

here's to 2024 i guess.

#personal

[storytimewithnova]

You are my sunshine Angst Kuguhina (TW)

Hey hey hey author chan here this is Going to be very angsty and it's gonna have heavy trigger warnings so don't say I don't warn you

⚠️NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNGER READERS OR PEOPLE EASILY  TRIGGERED ALL MY CONTENT IS 18+ UNLESS STATED⚠️

Don't be that asshole and try and report me saying i didn't warn you when clearly i have  lets begin

Sho has been depressed she don't know why Or what caused it she was just in the spiralling depression which was leading her to a dark path of self harm and Suicide her habits started to get out of control so she decided it was time to let her siblings and bf in on what is happening with her so she makes a quick video and sends it to the family GC

They clicked the video and heard sho she was Crying and hysterical

Sho: I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE OKAY

Osamu:Sis?!

Kuguiri: Hon?!

Back in the video they think this is live this is pre-recorded

Sho: AND I REALLY WISH THAT I DID BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO WAKE UP FEELING LIKE THIS ANYMORE

Atsumu: Like what sis feeling like what?

Sho: Hey I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now

Osamu: About what sis where are you?!

Kuguiri: Huh? What do you mean Osamu san

Tori: Guys focus

Sho: Umm... i just wanted to tell you that it's done. And i can't do this anymore I can't live... anymore

Kuguiri: W-w-what no no no please honey no

Sho: I'm done fighting i'm done putting up with this

Osamu: Putting up with what sis pleasw talk to us please don't do anything Rash

Sho: Those scars on my arms....

Kuguiri: You told me the cat scrached you

Sho: You know their not cat scraches...

Kuguiri: I had my Suspicions I just wanted to be wrong

Osamu: Wait but you told me and Atsu you fell of you bike

Sho: Wait but you told me and Atsu you fell of you bike

Tori: You told me you scraped it on the side of the door

Sho: You know I didn't scrape it on the side of the door

Tori: Wait So we were right you were self harming

Sho: you know everything but you laugh you don't listen you don't understand... but you know how I feel

Kuguiri: Help us love help us to understand we want to let us don't shut us out

The miya siblings: ^

Sho: But you don't say anything i'm sorry I'm a disappointment...when you act sad Ask her you only tell me you're fine I know you're not fine and I worry

Atsumu: You are not a disappointment and we said we were fine because it's true

Osamu: Atsu?!

Atsumu: Boyfriend stuff baby bro

Osamu: Oh

Sho: Not to you not to them not to anybody... I'm sorry it had to be this way Goodbye

Kuguiri: To who who made you feel like this and what do you mean goodbye honey honey

The screen went blank they now can see the video was pre-recorded

Osamu: Shit guy split up i'm coming back from akaashi

Atsumu: I'm coming back from Kuroo's

Tori: Semi is dropping me off

Kuguiri: I am out side you house no anwser

Osamu: There is a spare Key 3rd plant pot

Kuguiri: Thanks Got it going in

Kuguiri offline

This is in real life

Kuguiri ran round the house looking for sho till he saw a dim light in the bathroom he rush to the door it was locked he kicked it in and saw in the bath tub water and blood mixed

And we're back in the family GC

Kuguiri: 🎶the other night dear,as I lay sleeping I dreamt I held you in my arms when I awoke dear, I was Mistaken so I hung my head and  I cried🎶

The miya siblings: //Kuguiri what are you saying what's with the past tense//

Kuguiri: 🎶 You are my sunshine, my only sunshine you made me happy when skies are grey you'll never know dear, how much I love you why did you take my sunshine away🎶

Atsumu: //WHAT?! No no no//

Tori: //Tsumu//

Kuguiri: 🎶I'll always love you and make you happy and nothing else could come between but you left me alone here you'll have shattered all of our dreams🎶

Osamu: //Leave?//

Kuguiri; 🎶you are my sunshine,my only sunshine you made me happy when skies are grey you'll never know dear, how much i love you why did you take my sunshine away🎶

Sho was Pronounced dead found her in the bathtub sorry

Kuguiri went offline  Users unmuted

The miya siblings: No!!!!! Sis please No!! 😭😭😭😭

That day was filled with morning it even reach the other teams everyone questioning how did they not see she was suffering how did she hide it so well they started blaming themselves kuguiri more so he was her bf how did he not notice how was he so blind to the fact be knew he had cuts on her but he believed her excuses

Kuguiri's thoughts 💭 damn it I should  have questioned her further on it not tiptoe lightly around her

#Youtube