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#honestly part of me thinks saying that to her was literally just some form of joke/teasing/something like that cause it’s so absurd pfhdhfjd
designernishiki · 1 year
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strongly believe that those few lines in kiwami 2 where majima hits on kaoru while half-dead in the street were literally just put there to try (and fail) to negate how fucking gay it looks when kiryu cradles a bloody badly-injured majima in his arms as majima tells him that he basically just fought an entire army of yakuza singlehandedly for kiryu and kiryu alone, fully aware that doing so would almost definitely be the death of him. but you know. whatever
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thursdayg1rl · 10 months
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i WILL have waist length hair by next year . no matter what
#im still angry she made me cut it in april#a trim would have been fine but she made the hairstylist cut so much#like I said 4 inches to her and then she was done but now she had to come and tell the poor lady to cut more#actually think the hairstylist was on my side bc it really did not look like she cut that much#it makes me so ANGRY like why does she feel entitled to control every part of my appearance#I literally don't even feel like a person anymore#saw this tiktok of a brown girl cutting her hair to her chin bc she was never allowed to cut it bc long hair is considered a sign of beauty#and like. that's kind of messed me up ngl. bc while I feel bad. at least her mother wanted her to be beautiful...#I can't even explain it but#I can't wear nice clothes (the last time I was allowed to buy clothes was 3 fucking years ago) I always have to wear my cousins old ones#even for sixth form I really thought id be allowed to buy some new shirts or trousers or anything but guess what. nothing#there is nothing in my school wardrobe that hasnt been worn by 3 people before#and like I can't style my hair differently than what I always do and im even judged for new outfit combinations#she never gets me hair stuff even though I have the least manageable hair in the fucking universe#and the only makeup im allowed to wear is what she gets me (tinted moisturiser that is actually awful)#and then I look at my cousin and I have honestly never felt worse#bc she literally goes out w a face full of makeup and she can get highlights in her hair and wear whatever she wants#its crazy. and I can never say anything about it#its so fucking embarrassing as well#I just have to act like I don't care abt these things#when we go to Azerbaijan for my cousins engagement im the only girl in the family who isn't wearing a dress#bc she just had to insist that 'oh Alisha doesn't REALLY want a dress' and I just looked at her like. what.#so now im wearing the ugliest trousers and weird smock type shirt imaginable god I feel sick thinking about it.#lmao I can't stop crying abt this literally the stupidest thing in the world to cry about#my ammi would never do this to me
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
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Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 2
You listen to the story about those woods. Turns out, real life is way, way nastier than any of those stories. Don't lose your head.
TW for the chapter: Blood, gore, dead bodies, slut shaming(usage of outdated horror tropes), knife play, blood play, mentions of STDs
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— Do you know what animal is this? 
The body of a small creature – rodent, probably, you don’t think there could be any other animals around – was lying on the road near the place you decided to stay for the night. The “Coolest fucking thing in the world that is also just a few hours from here” was still a few hours from here because it was fucking dark and you already left your car on the sidewalk, hoping no one would steal it because honestly, why would anyone need this pile of burning crap. 
— According to the “Basic Bestiary of Austrian Animals” it might be an extremely rare Austrian Marmont.
You fucking hated Max. Mostly because his form of being different was “being an intelligent asshole” and also because he would never forget to rub the fact you were behind him in the grades into your face. 
— Waaaaaaait, a mamont? But it’s small! You have to give Karen – blonde, tan, tall, straight C everywhere except for her chest (then it would be D everywhere) – credit. As adorably silly as she was, she was still the only person you could have a meaningful conversation with. Except for the times when she was fucking your boyfriends. Or when she forgot that you don’t have a boyfriend so he doesn’t need to fuck random people just to spite you.
— Perhaps, if we are extremely lucky, a European edible dormouse, also known as…
— Fuuuuuck, people eat this thing? Yuck! Austria is like, literally the worst country EVER!
You feel like every second of this conversation, even though you are just listening to it, is going to take 10 years from your life span. You never knew why the two got together – maybe because Max loved fucking someone dumber than he is, and Gretchen loved placing the responsibility for her actions on her beloved sociopathic boyfriend. 
You wanted to say that this was literally a fucking squirrel, but you know better. Not like anyone is going to listen anyway. 
You get to the supposed location a few hours – already deep in the night, everything that you hate about forests – unkept environment, horrible living conditions, mosquitos, and occasionally wild animals are making you squirm each time your butt switches the place and you involuntarily sit on the cold, damp ground. You lick your lips, trying to adjust in the position in front of the fire. Fire that you probably shouldn’t be making in the middle of the private territory, but Chad said the place belongs to some weird hillbillies who wouldn’t care about a bunch of college grads having fun. 
You just finished the last of your coke – mixed with cheap whiskey and rum you got back at home, you feel just buzzy and fuzzy and relaxed enough to at least try to engage with people around you. Just didn’t want to make Jenny embarrassed – she was the one to vouch for you, even though you didn’t want to go camping with them. 
— I heard there is something happening in these woods. 
Everyone around you groans and you comply, groaning too. Chad has the worst storytelling voice and even Marty – the resident stoner of the group – is visibly unhappy about having to listen to his dumb jokes. Brace yourself for at least twenty minutes of dumb story with a cheap attempt to scare you. 
— You talk like those locals. What can be here except for drunkards? 
— Very fucking funny, Marty, I hope you laugh at people’s death too. 
Everyone groans again. 
— Shut up and let me finish! So, there is something hiding in those woods…legends…
— What legends? This place was built like 20 years ago. 
— Shut the fuck up, Max! It’s the legends before the town even was built. In those very forests…
— Forests? I thought it was like, just a suburban area. 
— It’s wild Austrian woods, why I would put you to adventure in the fucking suburbs? 
— You’re a suburb baby. 
— Shut it! God, I hate you guys. Alright, so…these woods are populated with…creatures. 
— Ooooh, like the mammoth we saw! 
— Karen, seriously, what the fuck? These woods are filled with motherfucking human-eating killers, not just some animals! 
— Then why do you say “creatures”? — Because it makes for a good fucking story! God, everyone, this is why none of you are studying creative writing! 
— Only your parents have money to pay for it. 
— This is why you all are fucking losers. Alright…god, I hate you. People went missing in these woods. Mostly tourists, never the local population – this is why police don’t care about it. Bodies were found, half-eaten, rotting under that very tree! 
— Which tree? There are like 10 of them just here. 
— More like 100. 
— Under every fucking tree! — That’s a lot of bodies. 
Chad groans, visibly aggressive. You just tilt your head to the side, only talking to him once before taking the last sip of your Coke and standing from your place. You wanted to take a chance to see those woods before you’d be going even deeper the next night – Chad was planning quite an adventure in the wilderness, to your dismay, and you wanted to have a chance to see the cool part of nature before you would grow tired of it. 
To your surprise, Karen was nowhere to be seen. Knowing the girl, she is far too innocent and dumb to be here – probably ran away to not listen to scary stories or got lost while trying to find a good place to pee. You sigh, feeling that it is your responsibility to pick her up – she is Marty’s girlfriend, but he is too stoned out to notice her disappearance yet. 
You stumble on your foot – alcohol makes you dizzy, makes you relaxed and smiley. You don’t even care that no one came to ask what the fuck you are doing – as far as you aware, they all can go and fuck themselves while you have a lot more fun things to do. Like searching for a drunk girl in the forest in the middle of the night…yeah, you really should work on your definition of fun. 
You already a good few minutes into the forest. Nothing but trees, not even a squirrel or a wolf pocking around to feast on yummy bodies. Not like you wanted to see a wolf, of course, but meeting with the wild life could be fun. You’d like to see a bear, for example. 
(And you will – just a bit later) 
— Karen? Karen, are you alright? You decide to scream for her once you are far enough from your friends that they won’t question why you are so concerned for her. Poor girl was obviously scared and you didn’t want to embarrass her even further, so you stroll through the woods, an empty bottle of coke in your hand – not sure why you didn’t threw it away. Littering isn’t nice, after all. 
— Karen? You’re scaring everyone, come out! 
You scream some more – she is probably lost, deep enough that she can’t even hear you. You try not to panic, try to be the reasonable friend – it’s usually Jenny’s task but here you are, trying to be the cool one of your friend group. You yell for Karen some more, listening closely to every little sound that could be easily taken as her whimper or cry for help. 
Nothing. 
Just how far can a scared drunk girl go? Probably not further away than you – you’re already starting to get tired and you knew that Sidhey got far drunker than you are. Which means she could lay here, somewhere, passed from the exhaustion, freezing, with forest animals feasting on her…no, no, you can’t think like that. She is fine, she has to be, or you are going to get into so much trouble with the police and her parents. You never told any of your families about the trip, so you wouldn’t want to get in trouble what ould require their assistance. 
You take a step into deeper part of the forest – and you think you saw a glimpse of…something. Metal, probably, might be her phone or that atrociour hair dye she is using to stop everyone from calling her a mouse. You also think you could hear a sound of someone breathing – heavily, gruffly, definitely a male, but you don’t really know how. You squint, trying to see through the trees. 
You see Karen. 
— Karen? God, you scared everyone…well, me. Where the fuck have you been? 
You smile and wave at her, your drunken state isn’t allowing you to see that, for some weird reason, she isn’t waving back. Or moving, so to speak. She stared at you with that terrified expression of hers and you tilt your head to the side, not udneratanding why is she like that. Something happened between her and others? 
You take another step back and Karen falls. 
Well…her head falls, anyway. 
There are a lot of feelings right now. Panic, panic, panic, a little bit of panic and, oh, who could have guessed, another riel of panic which makes you freak the fuck out and sprint – towards her. Maybe she will be alive if you could put her head back on her neck really-really fast? 
— Is it too late to convince you this is all a dream? 
The voice. 
You don’t recognize it – it’s distorted and quiet under the mask and you don’t know anyone int his fucking place anyways. The voice is weirdly happy, weirdly laughing and you want to vomit from how easy-going it sounds. Like the corpse of your beheaded friend is nothing, like it’s a fun pun, like…
You laungh forward, trying to, maybe, get revenge on your not-really-a-friend. Guy lets go of Karen’s body, allowing it to fall down, her head rolling to the nearest creek and tumbling into the water like a sports ball. You can’t even sob – the situation feels too unreal, too shocking, you are still very much drunk and when the guy simply wraps his hands around your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch, you fall limp in his hold. 
You sob. 
His hand goes to grasp your face in a tight embrace, making you gag from the smell of blood splattered all across his hand. You hear chuckle. 
— Didn’t want you to see that first. Wanted to play hero, yes? 
You sob, you tremble, you can barely master a few words out of your mouth. You want to scream, but it’s like all the air just decided to disappear from your lungs. So, you cry instead. How brave of you, Karen would be so proud of her friend not even trying to avenge her death. 
— F…fuck…you. 
You master with all you strength. Guy is laughing again – his other hand goes to squeeze your waist even more, pushing you against a tree. He wears a full mask with some red drawings on it – a satanic cult, really? You thought about serial killer, maybe, but definetly not about crazy cult maniacs running around. The more you know. 
— Oh, kitten, I’d love to fuck myself. But you’re here for this, no? 
He called you kitten – you squirm in his grasp, not wanting to give him the easy way to kill you. Something pokes you to the side – it’s a knife. Large, sharp, military-issued, you saw it in movie and action TV shows – and now the bloody razor almost grazing over your skin, through the thing fabric of your open jacter and a simple T-shirt. 
— Wh…who are you? 
Stpuid question, really. 
— Why does everyone wants to ask who we are all the time? Would you die happier knowing my name? Would it help you escape knowing how many beauty marks I have?
It would certainly help the police if you were to survive the encounter. Even though you are certainly going to die right next to Karen over there. 
He pushes a knife towards your side, the blade cutting through fabric easily, You brace yourself for being gutted alive. 
— I don’t like stupid questions. Ask something wrong and I will see if you are as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside. 
In a normal situation, you would punch him for such a corny joke. But you’re too drunk for this, but you’re too exhausted for this, but you just want to curl away in some nice place and fucking die, but not because he was the one to kill you. You certainly do not want to give him the satisfaction of being the one for you. 
So, you feel your cheeks heating up with the faintest of blushes. 
— What are you going to do with me?
He pushes the knife deeper, sharp edge cutting the thin line into your side. You sob immediately, tears filling your eyes as you almost feel blood – not a lot of it, just a tiny sharp streak – fill your shirt. You want to vomit, hate pain, and everything that is related to it. Thinking that the knife is dirty already and he would probably infect you with whatever one of the 13 STDs Karen has if he were to proceed. He stops right before the blade can penetrate your skin. 
— I’m a serial killer. What do you think I will do with you? 
You shake your head, trying to search for the question that won’t make him plunge a knife into your body. 
— W…what is your favorite color? 
Good job. Amazing job. Let’s hope you don’t like your liver all that much because he is definitely going to cut it out and eat it. 
— Red. I like you. 
Suddenly, you are being pushed to your knees. Suddenly, he is standing right in front of you – he is tall, of course, bulky and big, and he seems even bigger from this angle. Your face is pressed against his crotch and you can feel the dread slowly filling up your weins. Is he going to…
He presses a knife against your lips – you part it obediently, nervously, you feel your face twitching with disgust as your mouth immediately fills with the metallic taste of Karen’s blood. You really need to vomit right fucking now, but he is petting your head with his other hand like someone would do to a dog or a cat, and you sob. Too scared to do anything and here you thought you would finally stop letting people walk all over you. You thought it would start a journey of self-actualization and finding your own priorities, but…
He presses the knife a bit deeper. 
— Someone here has manners. Your friend here was trying to fuck me until she saw a knife. 
Sounds like Karen. You still remember her fucked-out face when she happily stumbled out of your room, with your boyfriend that you thought was never into cheerleaders. She had her urges and it was normal until she started to get off with those urges on everyone who liked you, or who you liked – and with such an innocent smile that no one was ever mad at her. 
He presses the knife against your upper jaw, laying it flat on your tongue – you sob, trying not to shake your head too much as he wipes away your tears and pushes your throat even deeper on the blade. You don’t know how it still hasn’t penetrated you yet. 
— Squealed like a fucking pig, not even fun anymore. I assume she was the whore of your group? 
You shook your shoulders, not wanting to give him any answers. He laughs, pressing the blade down and slightly turning it to the side. You feel the string of saliva running from your open mouth – he wipes it with his finger, leaving blood stains on your face. 
— Clean the knife for me, okay? I might leave you live if you would be good for us. You launch onto the opportunity to save your life so quickly, that you don’t even register the word “us” slipping from his tongue. 
You suck the knife obediently, carefully holding your tongue from the sharp edge so you won’t cut yourself, trying so desperately not to hurt yourself on the blade, that it’s almost adorable, He looks at you, the way you even fucking hollow your cheeks to clean it more efficiently, like you were sucking a cock and, with every passing second, he doesn’t really feel like killing you anymore. 
He feels like keeping you bound to him – maybe cutting your ankles so you would never run away from them, maybe tying you up to the body of your friend and holstering you both to the house, making you watch him gut Karen so you’d know not to run away from them. 
He pets your head like you were a cat – and, god, he always adored cats. 
You hear the noises from the side – your gaze darts to the nearest bushes as the guy waves his hand to someone gigantic sitting down at your side. Two pair of hands are now petting your head like you were a fucking animal – and you’re still sucking on his knife, feeling the pressure on your lips. You want to die, but there is no choice but to keep living. 
— Scheisse, what do you have here? 
A hand goes to cup your face and turns you to the side, to meet the giant, bulky figure fully wrapped in camo gear. His face is concealed with some sort of hood, which makes you shake even more. They both look like soldiers – or soldier-cultist-butchers from a horror movie. But, then again, you are in the fucking horror movie, since the big guy has Karen’s head in his hand, holding her by the hair. You sob even more. 
— Stumbled across me as I was gutting the slut. 
— Is she a smart one then? 
The guy with the knife laughs, yanking the blade from your mouth. You want to close it immediately, but the second guy pushes his finger between your lips, keeping them apart – and you are too scared to even try to bite him. Instead, you sit here, obediently, feeling the alcohol in your system working its magic. Again. Making you drowsy and relaxed, panic drained so much energy from your body, that you genuinely feel horrible. 
— No, wouldn’t say so. Obedient, more like. 
— Not a cool one either. Are you a virgin, Schatz? 
You want to lie, just so you won’t feel so fucking embarrassed because of it – but something in the brutality of what they did to Karen made you reconsider. You just shake your shoulders, not wanting to give a definitive answer. 
— Cute. Been some time since we saw a cute one like this. 
Your sobbing intensifies and the big guy suddenly yanks you on your feet. You immediately feel ill, pressing your head against the tree and emptying your insides – mostly because of the panic and partly because of the amount of alcohol you drank. Their touches are surprisingly soft on your skin, gently removing any stray hairs from your face and holding a firm hand on your back, rubbing the blood and grim into your jacket. 
You stand like this for a few minutes, choking on your own tears, vomit, and blood. They coo at you, gentle hands on your body guiding you towards them just so the second guy – a smaller one, relatively of course – could get a hand in your hair and yank it back. Hard. 
— Calm the fuck down. 
— You’re scaring her, Tigeren. 
— Aren’t we here for this? 
— Thought you liked this one. 
— I do. But…
— But? 
— Not fun to take her just now. She can help stir her friends a little. Make them run a little. 
They fucking killed Karen and they want to…let you go? They made you clean their knives, stand on your knees in front of them, and then gently helped you empty your insides – just to let you go when you could run into the nearest policeman and destroy their whole little game? Are they dumb or overly confident? 
— She could run. I would rather keep her with us. 
— They won’t get out of these forests without phones. And their car is already…shit. Spoilers. 
— Alright. But I would be the first to take her next time. 
— She won’t be any good after you, Ko. 
— Our Kleine Hase has more than one hole, ja? 
This is it. 
You take the opportunity – they are distracted by their little conversation, so you duck under the hand of the bigger man and run in the close direction to where the group is sitting. You are covered in blood, and dirt, you shake like crazy and you can barely even run straight without getting right into the various trees, but you don’t care. You aren’t strong enough to sit here and listen to their conversation – not when the self-preservation makes you forget about Karen. Not when that feeling in your chest can only be described as “She got what she asked for” – because she was a bitch, but not nearly enough to deserve being beheaded by two psychos. 
They laugh as they watch you run. Horangi smiles, nudging Konig to the side – you’re not a fighter, but still interesting enough. Adorable and obedient, just vile enough to suck on the same knife that killed your friend – interesting mix, to say the least. Hongjin always wanted a cat, but never got the time on the various deployments – and you behave like a perfect mix of a kitten and bunny. 
Konig tilts his head to the side, watching you, this pathetic little thing, run like the devil was after you. He was, of course. and he came in double, but it was still funny, how a city girl like you seriously thought you would be able to get away if they weren’t allowing you to. You’re cute, for a tourist, and he wants to hunt you some more – perfect foreplay before destroying you with either his cock or his knife. 
One down – and both of them couldn’t wait to finally get to you. 
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savingcrxws · 10 months
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EYES ON FIRE | just pretend
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[ next chap ]
synopsis. you and carmen start off on the wrong foot and richie stirs the pot.
word count. 3.5k
warnings. language, hardly proofread but i tried
authors note. lets goooo, this is based off of this headcanon that i would recommend reading before this chapter(kinda treat it as a prologue)--lets get to part one!
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"Richie, you dick."
If you had a dime for everytime Richard Jerimovich managed to inconvenience you, you could probably buy the Bean three times over.
But this, this really takes the cake. 
“Well if it isn’t our little college graduate here in good ol’ Orleans Street,” Richie cheers, throwing his hands in the air in fake surprise as a smirk rises slowly onto his face. You feel like if you were to glare at the man any harder, you might actually make his head explode.
“What brings you here, sweetheart?”
You take a minute to try to collect yourself before you absolutely blow up in Richie’s face. Carmen stands directly across from you, just behind the bar, dressed in a dirtied white tee stained in a sauce of some kind. He’s very obviously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning over the bar and seemingly very interested in the walls around you. 
“If I recall correctly, you asked me to come here, Richie,” you grit out, gripping the tote bag that hangs over your shoulder tighter. You press your lips together before a choice few words slide from between your teeth.
You see Carmen tense up at what you said, shoulders hunching up before dropping almost as quickly. The dirty blonde brings a hand up to his forehead in what you can only assume to be pure disbelief. 
You continue. “You called me literally like, two hours ago.”
“Really, me? You sure it wasn’t another Richie? Maybe a Rick?”
“Richie, please don’t piss me off right now. I swear to God–”
A loud slam interrupts the developing argument and nealyr sends you flying out of your skin.
Your eyes dart over to Carmen, whose hands are splayed flat across the span of the bar. His head is tilted down, curls falling to cover almost all of what you could see of his face. He takes a breath before turning his head to look at the older man behind him. 
His face is a bright red, angry flush sinking down past the collar of his shirt.
“Richie, you motherfucker,” he grits out, dragging a hand down his mouth before slamming his fist on the bar counter, rattling the plates and miscellaneous cups that littered across it. Richie tenses up behind him, catching on to the anger almost radiating off of him.
"Why the fuck would you invite her here?" Carmen yells, speaking of you like you weren't only a couple feet away from him. You frown, insulted at his disregard of you.
"Oh believe me, I hardly am jumping to be here myself, Berzatto." You spit.
Richie raises his hands in defense, taking a step back as Carmen bucks up towards him. “Hey, man, don’t shoot the messenger.” He casts a stray hand in your direction and Carmen’s eyes instinctively follow, making eye contact for the first time since you entered the restaurant.
The heat of his stare was strong, something that you could best describe as a blend of anxiety and anger. You notice that his eyes trail up and down your form, not in a "checking you out way" and more of a "I cant believe you're here right now" way.
“Bug usually never responds to my messages! Honestly, how was I supposed to know she would now,” Richie continues, still trying to maintain distance away from Carmen.
Carmen seems overwhelmed, split between jumping at Richie for his fake naivete or running a million miles away from you. He curls his hands into fist, and for a second, you think he's going to throw a punch. Quickly though, Carmen steps away from Richie and casts one more look towards you.
You wait for him to say something to your face, but he doesn't.
“I’m leaving,” Carmen mumbles under his breath, taking in another deep breath before abruptly turning and throwing open the kitchen door. The swinging door flies out and hits the wall, a sudden crack that you are sure would leave a dent later.  Almost immediately, you hear the sound of distant bustling and pans clattering around. 
A voice yells out in confusion. “What the hell, Jeff?”
You bring a hand to your forehead, feeling a headache incoming. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes and simply being around Carmen had given you more stress than you’ve had in the past week. Casting a glance up at Richie, you give him a final glare. The man simply shrugs his shoulders and gives a charismatic grin. “Well, that was pleasant wasn’t it, bug?” 
“Ayo, Richie, what the fuck is up with Jeff,” a voice questions as they walk in from the path of destruction that Carmen left in his behind. The owner of that voice is none other than Tina, and for some reason, seeing her alleviates at least some of the headache you feel pulsating across your skull. Tina casts a confused glance at Richie, who simply points over in your direction. Tina’s eyes follow and when she makes eye contact with you a familiar smile drapes across her lips. 
"Oh, well now I understand why Jeff's so pissed off."
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"Yeah, and then the asshole has the nerve to act all coy, like he didn't blow my phone up with messages begging me to go down to the restaurant," you complained, throwing your head back to take another gulp of the wine in your cup.
In front of you, Sugar swirled her own glass of sparkling grape juice, shaking her head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.
Shortly after Tina had walked out, you had left the restaurant (not before flipping Richie the bird) and immediately went to text Sugar for a rant session. Being the absolute angel that she is, she agreed almost immediately, stating that she had some qualms she wanted to rave about as well. Two glasses of Merlot for you and some non-alcoholic beverages for Natalie later, you two were sitting on the two ends of Sugar's couch, the TV playing a rerun of Selling New York as background sound for your current conversation.
"Yeah, Richie is a jerk." You nod in appreciation for her understadning your annoyance.
"And don't even get me started on you-know-who's reaction? He barely even acknowledged my existence!" You throw your free hand in the air. "Speaking about me like I wasn't right there?"
You release an exasperated sigh. "The ego on that guy."
Natalie hums, taking a languid sip of her drink. "Well, that sounds like Carmy alright. A tiny little ball of asshole-ery at any given point of time." The blonde reaches a hand over and places it on your knee. "Sorry my brother is such a dick."
You give a small smile at Sugar, resting your own hand on top of hers. "No need, it's clear you took all the 'sane person' genes in the Berzatto bloodline." Your joke pulls a giggle out of Sugar, the slight truth of her statement not missing between the two of you.
"But enough about me," you place your glass down on her coffee table before continuing. "What's going on in your life Nat?"
You listen as she rants about the stress of preparing for a bringing baby into the home. She talks about how those Al-Anon meetings she regularly attends are going, and how her one coworker Bryson seems to have a vendetta against her.
After a moment, Natalie coughs slightly, eyes darting across the living room in thought before returning back to you. "And well, I hate to keep talking about Carmy but..."
The smile drops quickly off of your face as Sugar trails the last word. "But what, Suge?"
"Buttt, Carmen's trying to rebuild The Beef," Sugar peers down into the contents of her glass as she speaks, "he's rebranding it as The Bear, and I've been trying to help him and the crew get everything sorted before they start tearing the building down."
You press your lips together tight at the mention of the familiar name.
"Personally, Carm, I don't see much wrong with the restaurant now?"
"The place is held together by a roll of duct tape and a dream, bug, I don't think you have to look very hard to see some issues."
You glance up at him from your position on his chest, looking as he gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom. While his gaze was physically directed at the old glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, you could tell his head was in a total different world.
"So you want to start a new restaurant?" You question, watching as Carmen shakes his head as soon as the words leave your lips.
"Nah, I just want to make it better, ya know? For Mikey, and Sugar, and Ma."
Sugar, noticing you are distracted, stops her sentence and gives a little frown, watching as your gaze drifts off somewhere distant.
Despite the years that have past, she knows that you still have feelings towards her brother. She was there for most of it, watching as you and Carmen went from daily hangouts to a weekly phone call, to a monthly check-in text, to, well, nothing.
She consoled you through most of the grieving phase of a post-breakup, like you had done for her a couple of times before. And after a few weeks of busting into tears anytime his name was mentioned, you began to heal, and focused those strong emotions towards improving yourself.
Natalie let a wistful sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. Shaking the fog away, you give a remorseful smile at having basically cut Sugar off midway through her spiel. She gives you another small smirk before shaking her head, dismissing your silent apology with a wave of her hand. She draws another sip of her sparkling juice.
"But Carmen has been driving me up the wall with all the shit he wants me to help juggle. If I schedule one more appointment I might pull my hair out."
"Oh no, please don't do that, honey," Pete calls out from the kitchen, very obviously having been listening in on your gossip time from the kitchen table. Sugar gives off slight grimace at Pete's abrupt callout at her obvious exaggeration, shrugging her shoulders and giving a placating call back towards her husband.
Reaching back towards the table, you grab the wine glass from earlier. "Do you have anyone to help you? You know I have some connects who can manage the money and strategy end?" You offer, more than willing to alleviate some of the stress from your friend's shoulders.
"Yeah, can I have that guy who assisted you when you managed La Raison?" Sugar teases. "I have no idea how you managed to help that business go from near bankrupt to one of the best sellers down Michigan Avenue."
"Carter? Yeah, no. That dude was an asshat. He was more useful kissing up to the store owners than actually doing his job," you shake your head at the mention of one of your old employers. Since graduating, you had taken into strategic and financial management for businesses across Chicago. La Raison had been one of your main businesses for a while, the owners soon becoming close friends of yours.
You loved what you did, though business management sounded like a right pain to most, you found joy in being able to rub your braincells together and actually make a difference. Plus, the pay wasn't too bad either.
Sugar chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wish I could just have you as a little angel on my shoulder, giving me all the answers to all of these problems that keep popping up."
Though she was joking, you can see the way her brows furrow simply thinking of all of the things that she has to do. You could only imagine the stress she is under right now. Balancing opening a new restaurant with her ever-present family dilemmas, and a baby on the way?
Natalie was beyond used to extensive stress, so you know she won't verbally express all of her worries. But the thought of Sugar carrying all of that on her shoulders draws a slight frown on your face.
Before you know it, the thoughts are falling from your brain and past your lips.
"What if I helped you manage the place."
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You honestly do not know why you offered to help manage this fuckery that is disguised as a restaurant.
Shortly after you had offered to help, it was as if Natalie had died, saw the light, and returned back to Earth. She squealed like a teenage girl and thanked you profusely. While she shaked you and explained all the things that needed to be done, you slowly began to realize the implications of your offer.
You, helping Natalie manage Carmen, your ex-boyfriend's, restaurant. A responsibility that would obviously take months.
And honestly, you were tempted to withdraw your offer despite the happy squeals of relief that Natalie was letting out. That was, until the tears of relief started pouring from her eyes.
Those pregnancy hormones really guilt tripped you.
Now, a week later, you're back at The Beef. Well, you suppose The Beef is gone officially now, the rusting sign pulled down from its former position hanging above the restaurant entrance.
"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit," you question out loud, watching as Manny and Angel pulling out a broken sign from inside the restaurant. Sighing, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette box, pulling one out before digging for your lighter in your back pocket.
"Mami, what are you doing here?" You turn around at the voice behind you, cigarette hanging loosely from your lips. Tina stands behind you, a smile stretched across her lips. "Seeing you two weeks in a row? Someone must be dying."
You smile, opening your arms for a hug that Tina reciprocates. "Oh you know, I'm here to save your asses from complete and utter failure." Tina gently pats your back as you pull apart, and it makes you regret not checking in on her and the rest of the crew more often.
"Missed you, T." You mutter, a small grin pulling up on one corner of your mouth.
"Missed you too, mami," Tina pats your arm before wrapping her hand around your elbow. "Now, I'm not trying to step on your toes but...you do know who your helping out right?"
You grimace at her implication, the reality hitting you once again. Behind those glass windows stands the man who took your heart and literally tossed it away like it was nothing. Took all of those years that you had spent together and wasted it away.
Broke up with you over fucking text.
And now, you're about to walk into his restaurant and help Sugar, and, consequently, help him fix this fuck up.
Talk about fate.
"Yeah, T," you start, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant, where you see Marcus and Fak carrying out some lockers. You wave towards the men, to which Fak responds with such enthusiasm that he drops some of the lockers on the ground, much to Marcus' chagrin.
You grimace before continuing. "Just helping my asshole ex because his sister is my bestie."
Sugar had texted you that Sydney, Carmen's former sous chef and business partner, had been more than happy to hire you as a strategic manager for the business. Although she didn't mention it, you knew that a certain dirty-blonde was not so excited at mention of you coming to help.
"He knows we need the help, no matter how fragile his tiny little ego is," Natalie had told you, a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't lose your head, boss." Tina teases, pushing you first through the doorway. As you finally enter the store, you take note of the pure chaos that is the restaurant.
Plywood and debris scattered across the flower, miscellaneous kitchen supplies and utilities lining the walls. Ebraheim and Sweeps were taking a sledgehammer to some random panels, while Richie was yelling something from the kitchen. As you take in the madness, Tina pats your elbow before heading back towards the kitchen.
"Welcome to The Bear!" Richie calls out as soon as he notices you. Spreading his arms out in what you assume is a hug, you only offer him a solid stare. Richie drops his arms and heads towards you despite your very clear disdain for him at the moment. "Glad you could join the team, bug."
"Richie, why the hell are you covered in black dust?"
"Inconsequential, sweetheart," you roll your eyes at his response before stepping over the debris in front of you.
"Where's Nat, Richard," you question walking behind the bar and towards the office in the back. Richie grumbles something under his breath before shouting out 'office.' Busting through the kitchen door, you note that the kitchen is just as messy as the front of the house. Stepping over black dust on the ground, you tread over to the office.
"Suge? You in there?" You call out, peering over the corner and into the office. The room is unoccupied, filled with nothing but discarded papers with miscellaneous phone numbers and sprawled writings.
You make note of what you know to be Nat's handwriting, eyes trailing over all of her notes for appointments and scheduling. Your eyes also rove over the chicken scratch that you also know to be Carmen's scribbles. Placing your bag down on the desk, you sit down in the rolling chair and decide to wait for Sugar to come in.
You grabbed a random pile of papers and attempted to digest some of the information being presented to you.
Bank statements, IRS requests, insurance, licenses, permits.
Judging by all the shit that needed to get cleared just for the restaurant to legally be open, your surprised that Mikey wasn't being physically chased down by the IRS and thrown into jail.
"Hey, Sugar, Syd and I are going to work on the chaos menu tonight so I'm going to leave the rest up to you, okay?"
Carmen slings around the corner, too focused on pulling his coat on his shoulders to notice who exactly was sitting in the office.
Instinctively, you freeze at his sudden appearance in the doorway, breath caught in your throat. At the lack of response, Carmen finally looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.
His blue eyes widen, clearly not expecting you to be the person in the chair. You rack your brain over the next move to make, the silence continuing as he just stands in the doorway and practically gawks at your existence.
Deciding that staring indefinitely at each other was probably one of the worst things you can currently think of, you clear your throat to break the silence. That seems to break Carmen out of whatever state of shock he seemed to be in; you watch as he awkwardly wrings his hands, like he was at a lost of what to do next.
You're half-expecting him to make a repeat of the last time you saw each other and storm away from you. However, Carmen just stands there, eyes darting from you to random objects in the office then you again on repeat.
Both of you are waiting for the other to say something. To yell, chastise, and start an argument.
Biting the bullet, you start. "Hey, Carmen."
He seems to be taken aback that you even uttered his name, eyes meeting yours once again. You almost forgot how blue his eyes are-so bright that they're almost clear.
He nods in acknowledgement before saying your name to greet you in return.
Awkward silence fills the room once again. While you know that Carmen is hardly a conversationalist, this has to be the most painful quiet you've ever experienced.
Be amicable, you think to yourself. He's your boss/business partner now.
You're doing this for Sugar.
"Umm..," you trail off, eyes scanning the office around you in attempts to find something else to talk about. "I tried to find Nat, but she might have gone A.W.O.L"
Carmen nods his head a couple of times, a soft hmm leaving his lips. You can tell that he wants to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but sealed behind his lips.
"Yeah, ok-okay, yeah." He nods rapidly, crossing his arms across his chest, lowering his gaze down to your shoes.
"Yep."
God, someone shoot me now.
Carmen clears his throat. "I-I-uuhh, you know, Sugar really appreciates the help."
You nod, licking your lips out of habit. "Yeah, she's told me."
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
Just when you were about to figure out a way to turn invisible or sink into the floor, Sugar rounds the corner and lightly bumps into Carmen's back. She lets out a noise of surprise from her throat and Carmen jerks forward a little.
"Carmy, why the fuck are you standing in the fucking doorwa-" Sugar cuts herself off when she spots you over her brother's shoulder. She makes eye contact with you and you swear you see a little mischief in her eyes. She pushes past Carmen to step inside of the office, crossing her arms over chest to assess the room.
You, sitting in the office chair, papers still grasped tightly in your hands and your lips practically licked dry from your nerves.
Across, Carmen stands angled towards Sugar, almost trying to physically minimize the amount of eye contact you two share.
Natalie surmises that she just saved the both of you from a very awkward moment "Oh, shit. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"No-no, uh, you're good, Sugar," Carmen sputters out, face flushing a bright red. He brings a hand over his mouth to physically stop the word vomit that was about to fall out of it. "Umm, was just gonna tell you that Sydney and I are leaving to work on the new menu."
Sugar's eyes dart over to you again, sitting stiffly in the office chair. She raises her eyebrows in question but you subtly shake your head.
Let's not talk about it right now.
She nods in acknowledgement before turning to fully face Carmen.
"Okay Carmy, you're good to go. Me and Bug here are just gonna get some paperwork sorted." Carmen looks in your direction at the use of the familiar nickname before he hmms again.
He takes a step back and waves his hand in goodbye. "All right, bye Sugar," he's fully outside of the doorway now, but he pauses before leaving you and Sugar's line of sight completely.
He stands there for a beat, running whatever thought across his mind a couple times. Finally, like he settled on an answer, Carmen gulps and raises his head to look at you.
He nods his head and whispers out your name and a goodbye, followed by a swift exit out of the kitchen.
You're practically stuck in the chair, the past five minutes having been a complete whirlwind. The kitchen door whips against the wall in a crack, the squeaking echoing from your place in the office. Your gaze is still focused on where your ex-boyfriend had stood not even a couple of seconds ago.
"Well," Sugar starts, a knowing smile across her face. "That wasn't as violent as I thought it was going to be."
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requests to be in the taglist for this fic in the replies below or send me an ask! thank you all for reading!
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fleuraimer · 4 months
Note
Overstimulation blurb pls
I love how Harry is so obsessed with her pussy so he keeps on making her cum / squirt but still not getting satisfied despite how overwhelming and teary eyed she got after 5-6 times she orgasms
sorry for the wait bestie 😭 i hope you like it!! 🩷
wc: 665
cw: smut, minors dni, 17+, overstimulation play, baldrry (he's so hot idc idc idc), and more. not proofread.
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Harry has been sucking Y/N’s clit for almost two hours now. The only reason she’s consciously aware of that fact is because of his phone, bright blue light illuminating their bedroom ceiling, blurry numbers scribing one hour and fifty-two fucking minutes. His favorite torture device—a sage bullet vibrator that should be criminal for having so many settings—sits, unused, beside her shaky form.
He set a stopwatch. For what reason, she does not know. She honestly doesn’t have the ability to, though. It’s actually kind of hilarious to expect anything from her expect incoherent huffs and puffs, and garbled curses.
But Harry just loves to laugh.
“C’mon, Sweetheart, talk to me; tell Daddy how it feels.” His palms press down on the backs of her thighs, keeping her spread for him—he’s made her smear her messy pussy open for him too, though, for extra measure—her poor clit exposed to every sensation. The AC turning on makes her twitch, let alone Harry’s own hot breath.
“S’g—ood, Daddy,” she gasps, her eyes as puffy and red as her sensitive cunt. “Feels—” She mewls through the rest of her sentence, his tongue back on her button, laving over it, petting softly with the very tip.
It tickles a part of Y/N’s belly that sets the rest of her body on fire. How something so faint, so delicate, can be so utterly disgusting at the same time makes her head spin, in the best way.
Her head falls back on the mattress with a subtle bounce, her chest arching away for the sheets when his lips wrap teasingly her clit, toes wiggling as her feet flail, precious cries involuntarily slipping from her pouty lips.
“H,” she soughs, her hands abandoning post and finding the back of his head, nails scratching through the soft peach fuzz from the nape of his neck to the top of his head. Her head lolls around until her eyes find Harry’s once more, his cheeky, practically delighted smile felt before his slick mouth and pearly teeth (and sinful tongue) register through her vision.
Her brows draw to the center of her forehead as he flattens his tongue against the whole of her, the slippery tip dipping into her weepy opening before working back up to swirl over her swollen button until he feels her twitch, then starting all over again.
He repeats the action enough times for Y/N to lose count, her hearing staticky, vision blurry, thoughts nonexistent. It would explain why she doesn’t notice Harry’s hand falling from the back of her thigh, explain why when he starts fucking his tongue into her neglected hole, she whines at the loss of contact to her clit, fumbling to pull back on the hood with one hand as the other remains petting over his soft, clipped hair, as if to say Don’t forget about your pretty button, Daddy.
Though, forgotten is the last thing her poor overused clit is. It’s probably at the forefront of Harry’s mind, as a matter of fact, if the sudden touch of silicone to her pretty button is anything to go off of. Not to mention, the resounding buzz that quite literally rocks through her entire system.
Her soft cries are no longer soft. They’re loud and whiny, some guttural, but most sad little uh uh uh’s that get slurred through babbled curses. She doesn’t think of how pathetic she might look to Harry right now, she can’t (a fact that she’s wildly grateful for). All she can fucking think about is his tongue stuffed in her drippy pussy and the toy pressed directly on her clit.
She whimpers when he starts moving the vibrator from side to side, pointlessly smearing her arousal and his spit into her throbbing cunt. It fucking hurts.
“Stop with the crocodile tears, Princess,” Harry mumbles into her, scowling at the sight of her wet cheeks. “Cut it out before Daddy gives y’somethin’ to really cry ‘bout.”
He just had all the jokes today, didn’t he?
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coquettetoji · 1 month
Note
i need more bf armin if you can please🥹🥹
i’m such a hoe for this man so like
QUESTIONS WITH BF ARMIN 🎀
warnings: literally just gonna make you hate couples in love, i’m nauseous reading my own writing bc i want this so bad. a little suggestive but doesn’t get into it much
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context: y/n, as armin’s lovely girlfriend, asks him a series of questions in her own little interview that she records on her phone.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
it was your average Tuesday night, and you with your ever so spontaneous ideas wanted to sit down with your boyfriend of 2 years— Armin, to put him to the test on a multitude of semi-serious but mostly ridiculous questions.
you take in a deep overdramatic sigh, staring at your boyfriend with a dead-set look in your eyes “so, armin.” you cross your arms in front of you as you sit criss cross apple sauce straddled in his lap, with a small stack of flash cards held in your hands. your phone was stood up by a box of paper tissues off to the side, showing both you and your boyfriend in the phone screen recording.
“yes, baby?” he answers you with a soft dazed smile, his pupils dilated staring at you intently, hands on your waist drawing small circles waiting for you to ask him the oh-so-serious questions, he shouldn’t be scared. after all, they’re just some questions, right?
you stare at him with a glare trying to look intimidating, “question one…” you trail off dramatically.
Armin stares at you with a stifled smile, trying to remain serious just for your sake and to make you happy for this little TikTok trend you want to participate in again. He leans slightly forward to place a small chaste kiss on your cheek.
“that was not part of the question, i told you to be serious.” you huff jokingly but he just smiles brightly up at you.
“i can’t help it, you’re right here in my reach and you’re just so- ugh..” he emphasizes with a fake swoon and a chuckle.
“okay, AGHEM-”
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
question number 1:
“what pet names do you call me the most? n’ what’s the favorite name that I call you?” you say sweetly. your eyes bore into his awaiting his answers while clutching onto your flash cards.
his fingers lightly tapped the sides of your legs, occasionally tracing small circles dazedly as he thought about it.
“i call you baby the most. i dunno what else. there’s sweetheart, angel, honey. momm-” he trails before you cut him off and stare at the camera with wide eyes. you clear your throat slightly side eyeing the camera before returning your view to him and his stupidly adorable dazed smile.
“OKAY! and what’s your favorite name that i call you, minnie?” you ask him with a tilt of your head, reaching a hand out to play with the tufts of his blonde hair.
he huffs, softly dropping his head onto your chest while wrapping his arms around you tighter, squeezing gently.
“mmm, i like everything you call me. but i think that one time i was uh like panicky and stressed and you called me baby, my heart kinda j-just like.. skipped. ya know? like what are they called— heart palpitations? in that situation it just made me feel really good.” he tilts his head up at you, his chin propped up, slightly rambling.
in this moment he really just looked like the embodiment of the cutest golden retriever ever.
you smile at him, “you’re just adorable aren’t you?” he reacts to this with a small blush forming on his cheeks shaking his head side to side slightly.
“y/n/n you have to cut off some parts of this video. i ramble too much when it comes to you i just start rapid firing shit out like i’m rapping.”
“it’s for comedic purposes. shush.”
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
question number 2:
“if you would rather have me with the personality of your ex, or your ex with my body. who would you choose to date? choose carefully and think about what you say before you say it.” you tease him.
his eyes widen slightly as if you had just asked him the most life threatening question ever (honestly to him it could be).
“w-well..” he buffers. he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought or as if it’s gonna have an answer written out on it.
“i would remain single until you return back to normal.” he nods, seemingly assured that his answer was the right one.
you stare blankly at him, then at the camera, then back to him. “the audience is going to have to decide on that one.” you assert.
at this armin’s eyebrows furrow confusedly and his arms wrap around you tighter. “w-what? baby i don’t have much to work with here for an answer.” he sasses.
“you could’ve just said you would- you could like- well in the sense that.. yeah you’re lowkey right.” you shrug sheepishly.
he rolls his eyes jokingly, “can i ask you a question now?”
“if this is another question like gay son or thot daughter im not answering it.”
he laughs slightly, “no no no. it’s something different.”
you nod for him to continue, “what is it then?”
“uhhh can we turn off the camera for this one?” he looks at the camera quickly before returning his eyes back to you.
your eyebrows raised at his shy question, his gaze adverting from you and staring down at your his shirt that you are wearing.
“whisper it to me.”
pst pst pst whisper whisper whisper
you stare blankly at him after pulling the side of your head away from his face with a rosy pink blush now surfacing on your cheeks.
“s-so you see.. i can not answer that…?” you buffer just as he did earlier.
he giggled softly at your confuzzled expression and he squeezed your leg gently with his hand.
“mm see how you can’t answer that one either, angel?” he grinned smugly tilting his chin up at you slightly.
“oh shut up.”
(news flash: he asked you what position he hits it best in 😸)
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
question number 3:
you grab your phone, quickly clicking the .5 button as the phone camera zooms out in view, now causing armin in the view of the camera to look a bit—stretched?
he stares up at the camera, the angle making his puppy eyes just like that much larger and cuter in the process.
“can we not film me from this angle, baby? i don’t get to look at you properly with the phone in the way.” he huffs slightly.
“no.”
“yes ma’am.”
“anyways, next question and i want you to think about this in depth.” you nudge him
he hums along, “i’m listening.”
“what made you realize you loved me?” you ask him deeply.
this question causes armins mind to suddenly blank over a tad bit just to reminisce about the first moments he met you.
he stares up into the camera as you try and withhold a laugh at how stupidly cute the .5 angle is making him look.
flashback:
it was junior year of high school, and at your lovely age of 17.
the teacher was passing back the recent scores from your latest exams. high school was definitely hard but you always seemed to manage with your high grades, expectations, and your extremely competitive nature.
the only person who seemed to have always come close to you or beat you was Armin Arlert.
*insert sparkle noises here*
yeah, he was a little infuriating when it came to competitive aspects but his pretty face lets him get away with it—but definitely not when it comes to you right?
the teacher came around the corner and placed your paper upside down on the surface of your desk. feeling confident with the results, you flip it over to reveal the high score of 98 percent on the white parchment. with a giddy smile, you turn directly behind you in your chair to come face to face with Armin.
only to see him already staring directly at you with a dimpled smile.
“98. what did you get, arlert?” you boast to him while holding up your paper.
“really? i can’t believe it after your poor performance last time.” he teased still grinning at you.
“i got a 90 last time, that’s not even poor.” you roll your ey at him with your mouth slightly agape. “what did you get if you’re so smart?” you huff.
he hummed, his glasses shifting slightly down the bridge of his nose as he leaned slightly forward closer to you in his seat, “a 94, y/n/n.” however his paper remained flipped over and his forearm rested on top of it.
you glanced down at his desk where his veiny arms lay upon the paper, your tried to squint to see some type of number in red but his arms covered it.
you brushed this off, instead focusing on how you scored higher than him as an even bigger smile now appeared on your face. “hm, better catch up next time, arlert.” you nudge him.
“you already know i will, princess.” he nods as his he leaned his head on his left hand looking into your eyes.
you turn around in your seat and face back towards your desk as the school bell rings to signal the next period of the school day. “i’ll see you tomorrow, might wanna get back to studying a little more.”
you pack up your bags, proudly stuffing the 98% exam in your bag. zipping up your backup, you smile, happily leaving the classroom oblivious to Armin’s lovingly proud gaze, as well as his now-flipped-over exam on his desk that revealed a 100%.
flashback over
armin looked up into your eyes with you still in his lap, disregarding the camera shoved into his face.
“i think the moment i realized i would do anything to make you happy, even lie and make myself look worse, is when i just knew i would do absolutely anything for you.” he gushed.
“like you didn’t even know i lied about half my scores until like a year ago. i just loved seeing you smile because you’re so just— ahh.” he hums as he throws his head back slightly and dramatically with a toothy grin.
you cup his cheeks in your hands as you trail your eyes over all his features. “i’m honored that if anyone was my academic rival, it was you, blondie.”
“oh stop it.” he gushed. “but yeah, i just knew when i just felt that weird feeling in my chest every time i saw you happy.”
your heart felt as if it was going to explode, sure you’ve been with armin for a solid 2 years. but this has never really ever been brought up.
“and i also realized when i had the urge to throw jean against a wall when he was flirting with you.”
“okay well atleast chivalry isn’t dead.” you sigh, armin laughs before reaching up slightly to place a gentle peck on your lips.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
let’s just say the peck led to other things because your lips now were noticeably swollen and your hair was messy from armin’s hands running through it.
you pick up your phone camera that was absentmindedly discarded when the two of your guys’ small peck definitely did NOT escalate into a make-out session **blame armin.
“so g-guys.” you take a second to collect your breath. “that’s some questions that my boyfriend answered. this definitely will get me banned if i post all the clips but they will be edited so..” you glance at armin who drags his eyes from up and down your body.
“yeah. i gotta go.” you quickly blurt before clicking the end record button then immediately drop your phone back onto the couch, crawling back into armin’s lap and continuing where you left off.
“love you, love you, love you.” armin mumbles against your lips, clutching his arms tighter around your middle.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
notes —
hi guys!! lets just pretend it hasn’t been 2 months since i last posted. i’m reading requests and im gonna try and put out as much as i can before spring break ends. thank you for all the love and support <3
also armin as a hot nerd is just everything i’ll ever need.
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pickypickypeak · 3 months
Text
So I FINALLY got the art of wish book which is so so good and? I’m honestly a little surprised that the only things that got leaked online were the starboy and evil amaya concepts when it’s literally filled with gems? Here’s a few but first let me tell you, the art alone makes it worth it. It’s amazing
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THE HAMLET! LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE HAMLET!! Apparently in an early draft Asha and her community had left Rosas and started living hidden in the forest so their wishes could be safe from Magnifico. This hidden place was called “The Hamlet” and it still exists in the final movie, though it’s just a part of Rosas and doesn’t have the original lore. I really hope this trope gets reused for a future Disney movie because it’s a really cool concept!
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Live action Valentino??
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Some Sakina dump because I love her (also meet Tomás)
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Oh and you know the wishing tree in the movie? It’s based on Walt Disney’s own actual wishing tree?? Wtf???
Also there’s a whole 2 pages about Dahlia explaining how much effort and care were put into her creation as a character with a disability. They actually had consultants making sure that ANY form of representation felt authentic and positive. They did not just made the cast multi-ethnic, they actually did their research so that any culture was well portrayed, all the way to the littlest details like textures on their clothing or even each character’s way of greeting.
And about the animation not being fully 2D… Haters conveniently forget mentioning that the movie is expressly made to celebrate both the past AND future of WDAS. Then like it or not, but you can’t possibly celebrate all of Disney without CGI animation. CGI is also Disney. Tangled and Frozen and Moana became instant Disney classics. I would die for a traditional animated movie, but when you put it this way, it makes perfect sense to me that they went with hybrid style for this movie specifically. It just feels right.
Also going through these pages… you just feel the love the producers and animators put in every single reference to older classics. Animation techniques were literally inspired by actual frames from Snow White, Pinocchio, Fantasia, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Peter Pan. So were coloring techniques, lighting, cinematography… There was a breathing effort of paying homages to these movies with tremendous talent in them, while also creating something new. So hate on this movie as much as you want, but mind you calling it “AI-made”. It’s not. It’s made by humans.
Oh, and finally, Starboy. Well, yeah, I fell for it. People literally made it all up. There’s zero indication that he was gonna be Asha’s love interest, let alone be the one singing At All Costs instead of Magnifico. From what the book says (there’s literally two short paragraphs about him, before Star comes in) I think they didn’t even have a plot then, they were just exploring ideas and made some brainstorming sketches deciding how Star could have been. Same with evil Amaya! That one pic that leaked of her with Magnifico is all we got. There’s no indication that it was gonna be “a better movie” because there is no plot for that lol
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vivmaek · 1 year
Text
ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PART SEVEN (roast edition)
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Libra Suns are soo oblivious sometimes. I can never tell if they’re doing it to get something or if they’re actually having a dumb blond moment. 
People with Mars in the 2nd house need to learn how to share. They become territorial over their possessions. As children, they were the types of kids to show off a cool toy and then go, “but you can’t play with this one because it's special.” 
Mars in Pisces are the types to make a passive aggressive comment under their breath, and then when someone calls them out, they go, “I didn’t say anything!” 
When people who have Mercury in the 8th house become obsessed about something, they will never shut up about it. Just when you think you’ve managed to steer conversation into a new direction, they will find a way to bring up whatever topic is plaguing their mind. 
Pluto in Sagittarius generation is so self-righteous. Everyone is overly aggressive with their opinions, everyone thinks they’re right, and everyone is under the impression that we’re going to be these revolutionary radicals who will serve justice to those oppressed when most spend their time on the internet trying to cancel people. Like seriously we get so heated over nothing sometimes. I think that's because this generation really struggles with misdirected passion. I’m excited for these Pluto in Aquarius babies tho 
Aries Moons and their temper tantrums, that's all. 
People who have their Mars in Taurus will destroy things when they get angry, literally like a raging bull. They make a mess and fling things around, like what is that accomplishing?? And then afterwards they clean it up like nothing ever happened. 
The uncomfortable look on a Gemini Moon's face when someone starts to cry, they wanna leave asap and are looking for the nearest exit. 
Leos will cry, scream, and throw a fit over their hair. DO NOT MESS WITH THEIR HAIR. It's the one quality they like about themselves. A bad haircut or color treatment will have them SPIRALING. Like a serious identity crisis. They die inside when someone goes, “It's just hair, it will grow back.” 
Mercury Libras and the lies they spread! They lie about the smallest things and it's usually in an effort to people-please. 
People with their Mars in Sagittarius are psychos when they're mad. They lack the foresight to see how they’re putting themselves and others in danger. I’d say they are the most likely to carry out some form of revenge.
If you’re dealing with someone who has their Venus in the 8th house, make sure to establish some firm boundaries. They will just keep taking if you let them.
Venus 11th housers cause so much drama every time they develop feelings for one of their friends, I never seen this not cause tension within a friend group. 
12th house stelliums and the way they always maintain distance, and everytime you get too close they pull back, actually super frustrating. Also the silent treatments they pull! They’re not even doing it to punish, they're just doing it because they’re uncomfortable, but it still ends up feeling like a punishment for the other person.  
Mercury in Taurus individuals are sometimes too blunt. I honestly really love this quality hehe, but I have to admit they’ve offended me just by pointing out the obvious. 
Aries 11th housers always feel like they’re in competition with their friends. 
Moon Trine Uranus and crying at the most unexpected things. I have this friend that I’ve known since middle school, never saw her cry once. Even when we graduated and said our goodbyes for college, nothing. Then a year later, we were watching the finale for Euphoria together, and this girl started bawling at the end. I was like out of all the things to make you cry this is it?? Haha, I love her. 
The Pluto in Virgo generation hands out criticisms left and right. If my friend's parents had this placement, I always felt like they were judging me. 
Capricorns and their obsession with money, and also how they fail to realize that not everyone else is driven by monetary gains. 
Aquarius’s love to act like their egos aren’t big. The only reason why Leos get checked more on this is because of their bold sense of expression. 
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myhaikyuuacademia · 4 days
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Totally fake | Ant x Reader (Heartbreak High)
Fake dating, fem!reader A/N: it’s been a while since I watched s1 so forgive me if the timeline is a little wonky. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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You had no idea how you got yourself in this… situation. In this mess, honestly. Thanks to Amerie, the whole school life had imploded. Thanks a lot, Map Bitch. Now here you were, standing next to her trying to get a ticket for the party as Ant told her about how his mom reacted to the whole Darren wristy thing. Your face twinged up in sympathy. Somehow Quinni and Darren had adopted Amerie into your friendgroup after the whole thing, so here you were, supporting your new friend. Well, it was more like she dragged you along. Moral support or something. Ant ended up telling Ams to go ask Spider and she trudged away disappointed, but you stayed, hesitating. “Um, I’m sorry about your mom.” You offered. What a stupid thing to say, you cursed yourself. Boys made you nervous. “Yeah, it really sucks. I love Jesus and all but going to church 3 more times a week is reaaaaally boring.” He groaned. You began walking to your next class together. “Um.” You started talking before you could think. You were a fixer, it was a whole thing. A pathological need to fix things, which is why you couldn’t really be against Quinni and Darren taking Amerie in, you wanted to help fix this. But sometimes in your need to fix things you went a little overboard. You realized that that was what you were doing after you had already started talking, and now you didn’t know what to say. But being quiet now was also embarrassing. “What’s up?” Ant stopped and leaned against the doorway of your classroom. Looking at you expectantly. Fuck it. “Maybe I could help.” You looked at him. “With your mom I mean.” He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what you were proposing. “How?” Taking a deep breath in, you began rambling the plan that had formed in your head in the span of maybe 10 seconds. Which in hindsight, perhaps was a sign that this was a really dumb idea. “Well. I’m assuming your moms problem is that Darren is not a girl. Because you’re Christian and all. Which, I don’t know, not very Christian, ya know? Loving your neighbour and all. But anyway. If her problem is in fact that, I am a very good liar, I know enough about like the bible and stuff, and I happen to be a girl…” You trail off. He looked as confused as he did before you started talking, which, honestly, you figured this would not be enough to get him to understand. It was just too embarrassing to finish. You felt cold all of a sudden. Nervous. Rubbing your arms for warmth, or perhaps in an attempt to rub the nervousness away. “I’m saying I could be your fake girlfriend until she calms down.” You finally huffed out. “Ohhhhhhh” You swore you could almost see the lightbulb that went off above his head. “Gotcha.” He nodded contemplatively. “You’re really smart, y/n, I’m impressed.” Still nodding. You were a little surprised he knew your name. People tended to not know it because you mostly kept to yourself outside of your friendship with Darren and Quinni. And you hadn’t talked to Ant before, like literally ever. Yeah you shared a lot of classes, but he didn’t really seem to pay attention and so far you had never been paired with him for any group work. “Let’s do it.” He grinned, excitedly. “Wait what?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “For real?” You didn’t know what you expected his answer to be, but for some reason you hadn’t prepared yourself for a yes.
“Yeah! I’m in! I only see positives honestly. I get to pretend to date the coolest girl I know and get my mom off my back.” Wait, what did he say? The coolest girl he knows? Huh? You blinked in confusion as he left you standing in front of the open door to go to his seat. Autopilot activated you went to your seat, in between Darren and Quinni. Completely zoned out your eyes trained on Ant who was sitting a couple rows ahead and to your right. “Earth to y/n, repeat Earth to y/n.” A hand was waving in front of your face and you blinked as you turned to Darren. “huh?”. “What’s wrong with you today, space girl?” They asked. “What?” Your brain hadn’t completely caught up yet. “Why were you talking to Ant?” Quinni asked excitedly. Why was she excited? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to him before.” She mused. Uh. What were you supposed to tell them? Both of them looked at you expectantly. Completely frozen, your brain refused to cooperate. “I.. uh. Amerie. Party. Slapband. You know?” The words were more stuttered out than said, and they did in fact not know what you meant.  Your saviour came in the form of a very out-of-breath Amerie, who was almost late to class, but just almost. She fell into her seat next to Quinni and immediately started babbling about whatever it was she was up to after she had left you and Ant, taking all attention off of you. And if they saw you staring at Ant the whole class, they didn’t say anything. Yet.
By the end of the school day you had bounced back, the whole Ant thing still nagging at a corner of your brain but not at the front anymore. Until you were walking out the school gate with Darren, Quinni and Amerie, that is. “Hey, y/n, Wait up!.” This caught the attention of your more than nosy friends. You stopped and turned around to see Ant jogging up with a stupidly cute grin on his face. “Um, hi, what’s up?” Your face felt unusually flushed. Your friends looked at you like they were vultures and you, and the ensuing gossip that would come from this, their prey. You didn’t need to look at them to know that. “Here.” He held out a slapband. “You don’t have one yet, do you?” “No, I don’t, actually.” You were about to tell him that you were not interested. Partys? Not your thing. But the way he looked at you, and the fact that he got you one and went out of his way to give it to you, rendered you incapable of rejecting it. He was waiting for you to take it, or do something to accept it, so you lifted your arm and held it out in front of him. He slapped it on your arm and you mumbled out a thank you. “No worries, babe.” He leaned in and gave you quick peck on the cheek before he proceeded to wink at you and then leave with a wave and a “See you later!”. You almost dropped to your knees. What the hell just happened. Wide-eyed you looked after him, hand lifting to touch the cheek he had just kissed, legs still awfully wobbly. “BABE?!?!?!” A chorus of awestruck half-yells ripped you out of your moment, seconds before your friends came into view in front of you and crowded you. This was… too much. You gave up trying to keep your legs steady and dropped down to the ground, sitting on your knees, before shifting to sit criss-cross applesauce. “Whoa, shit girl, you okay?” Amerie dropped down next to you. Not trusting your voice you simply nodded yes. “Oh my god, you and Anthony Vaughn?” Darren crouched down next, almost scandalized by what they had just witnessed. “Oh, are we sitting now?” Quinni, bless her, sat down next to you. “Yeah…” You just said, to no one in particular, nodding. “Oh my god, you’re like, a total goner.” Amerie laughed. “I am?” You turned to look at her with puppy-dog eyes. Before this day started, you had never talked to Anthony Vaughn before, and now, before it ended, you were apparently head over heels for him. You blamed it on hormones, or some kind of chemical inbalance in your brain. Because… there was no way, right?
This would make the fake-dating significantly harder, you concluded, after you had time to mull it over. You and your friends had continued sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes, before you felt stable enough to attempt standing and walking again. Of course they all had a million questions, yelling simultaneously, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. You had no idea what to tell them. “I will tell you once I know.” You end up saying, which leads to more questions. “Seriously guys, not right now.” You couldn’t tell them anything before you lined up stories with Ant. Well, technically you could tell them it was all fake, but they were all huge blabbermouths, and you wanted to check in with Ant first, before doing anything. You hadn’t expected him to just… go and do that. Like, at least you had expected talking to him once, or maybe twice, about what being in a fake relationship entailed, you know, lining up stories, where, what, who, when…. What kind of person his mother was, how far to go, how much to do to make it believable. But now everything had kind of blown up and it had to wait. You didn’t even have his number, you realized, after you were finally alone. The gang had tried to peer-pressure you into making this a whole goss-sesh at the diner, but you managed to worm your way out of it. Now they would probably just do it anyway, but without you to defend yourself. Not that there was anything you could say right now. Frustrated you blew a piece of hair out of your face. This was gonna be one hell of a week.
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dyketubbo · 3 months
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forgive me if i lose tubbo character analysis points (rolls eyes heavily) over this or something but i honestly dont think the date was very ooc or that the frubbo romance is going to be played as something that makes qtubbo better. obviously qtubbo gained a lot of trust issues and lost a lot of hope in others + started to strongly believe that love only hurts after purgatory and the funeral. and hes an extremely defeatist guy at heart
but he also makes exceptions because no matter how much he tries to disconnect himself he still cares so so much about others. he has such a weird fucked up view of love and justifies seeing sunny as an exception by saying they wont hurt each other because their love is unconditional and yet he also claims empanada isnt safe when bagi is around because the eye workers will use that connection to their advantage And Yet he constantly looks after and takes care of sunny anyways. even though hes already mourning her before theyve even died. even though by his own logic it may be safer for sunny to not be with him
and like.. he says dont get attached empathy makes you weak but he tries to ruin fit & pacs date so they dont abandon him. he still jokes around with them and has happy moments with them bc ultimately theyre his friends and even if they dont Really understand what hes going through or what would help him they want to be there for him and make him happy and they Do make him happy. bc qtubbo doesnt spend all of his time with his friends whining and groaning about how theyre going to leave him some day and despite being suicidal and defeatist and at times a fucking jerk that isnt his whole personality
depressed people Have happy days. they have ups and peaks in their life and yeah actually many of them do manage to have nice relationships and theres a lot of depressed people out there who are fully capable of just. not being complete downers to be around all the time (cough a lot of comedians have depression cough). if anything i would argue it isnt just in character but realistic for qtubbo to be able to just. have a normal date where hes a bit of a loser and manages to get through an actual confession
and its not like hes going all in oh we're dating and we're going to get married now bc he doesnt even consider themselves boyfriends and he turns down sunny claiming fred as another parent. he just had a happy day and it boosted his mood a little. i dont think fred is really on his list of trusted people and in fact i feel like him just being very silly and awkward during the date is a Part of him not fully trusting fred or wanting to be super serious around/with her. i think to qtubbo fred symbolizes sure some pain from the whole funeral situation but also still a lot of happier simpler times and ultimately a time where tubbo was happier and openly hopeful
if anything, tubbos relationship with fred is another form of escapism for him. of course it isnt going to make him better. he literally brought fred to him and sunnys island where they plan to live far away from everyone to avoid their problems. its all a fantasy for him, and one that he isnt even allowing himself to fully jump into but will joke about and dance around the subject of nonetheless
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1: Magic is a Metaphor < 2: Morgana is a Lesbian > 3: Merlin is Gay > 4: Arthur is Bi
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Building off of the whole metaphor idea, Morgana's character arc is basically that she starts to question her identity because she's having all of these dreams and thoughts that she doesn't understand. Then Gaius, who is straight up a conversion therapist, literally gaslights her and is like, 'no no, you're just going crazy, you're overreacting, here, why don't you take all of these drugs to suppress those thoughts?'
Meanwhile, Uther is saying all of this stuff about how sorcerers are all evil and should be killed, and Morgana will try to argue with him and he will just be like, 'well, why do you care so much?' And she's all, 'oh, no reason. I'm just an ally. I'm just really passionate about social justice.' Like, girl, we've all been there.
And then once Morgana does come to terms with her identity and she realises how fucked up the way that she was treated is, she goes batshit and starts a revolution and assassinates her dad. And good for her! I honestly think that all repressed lesbians deserve a little bit of murder, it's only fair, especially if they look so hot doing it.
Also, Morgana doesn't have any male love interests. I mean, she will sometimes flirt with men to manipulate them into doing what she wants, but it's very clear that that is what she is doing, she never actually cares about them or follows through.
Besides, Katie McGrath has never played a heterosexual in her life. She's basically straight up said that she played Morgana as a lesbian. You know where she said that? Here:
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Hear me out.
Are they technically half-sisters? Yes. But omg the sexual tension between these two is undeniable. You really do think that they're just going to kiss at any given moment. This has been straight up confirmed. This is a quote from the same conversation as earlier between the main producer and Katie McGrath, where they fully admit that there are definitely lesbian undertones there, and not only did both actresses play it that way, but it was written that way. So I rest my case.
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Gwen knew about Morgana's prophetic visions from the start and she was never scared of it or tried to deny that it was magic. Instead, she was always by Morgana's bedside (or in her bed) so she could hold her face and stroke her hair and tell her she would be okay. Gayasses.
Although, as Iori Miyazawa can attest, yuri is often best found in the absence of it. Because once Morgana accepts her identity and her magic becomes an unavoidable part of of her life rather than thoughts she could repress, she begins to push Gwen away, often in the form of telling her not to undress her anymore.
Then this tension between them is emphasised when Morgana starts having nightmares of Gwen marrying Arthur and is really upset by it for some reason. I know that she justifies it by saying that she doesn't want Gwen to take her place as queen, but if you think about that for more than 5 seconds, it makes absolutely no sense. Arthur is still going to be king regardless of who he marries, so unless Morgana is planning to follow the legend a bit too closely and marry her brother, then Gwen is absolutely not taking her place.
And yet Morgana spends the entire rest of the show obsessing over Gwen, including: planting false evidence to break up Gwen and Arthur, using necroLancey as a puppet to seduce her, kidnapping Gwen only to tenderly caress her face and force her to have dinner with her, and then of course enchanting Gwen to kill Arthur so that Morgana can be queen, and Gwen will seemingly also still be queen. And they will be two queens, together, platonically. Hmmm
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Hi! Imma do something rare and actually make content, but its 11 at night and i just had a brain worm
for those of you that don’t know, i work at an accounting office. we do taxes. it is tax season. and now im thinking abt how AGSZC does taxes and what their papers are like and im inflicting it on the rest of you even if its gibberish
Angeal: A godsend. Keeps his forms in order and filed properly, calculates everything else himself like a good man. Papers honestly aren’t too bad, maybe 10-12 just because of his career/insurance plus his doubtless donations to charity, but aside from that. straightforward and done at his kitchen table
Genesis: A fucking NIGHTMARE. no doubt pays someone else to do it. and for fucks sake, i know he invests. constantly and consistently and probably in anything he thinks stands the slightest chance against shinra on the market. his 1099-B is a mess and definitely Not Totaled, so his is the bullshit you have to insert one. investment. at. a time. He’s the type that keeps fucking calling too, I can just tell. but, aside from the 1099-B, he’s probably got simple stuff as well. probably several 1099-INTs from several different bank accounts, maybe a couple 1098s floating around from vacation houses or some shit.
Sephiroth: Does his own. In ridiculously early. Makes almost no personal purchases so hardly has anything to pay. I can’t imagine not having a last name or not knowing his birthday doesn’t end up a legal problem somehow, so he likely has to walk directly into a damn tax office to say hey this is me and this is my shit no, someone isn’t stealing my identity. has one singular document and it’s his W-2. Which is. Fucking astronomical. Like, the number doesn’t even look right. His paycheck as a SOLDIER isn’t taxed, so he doesn’t really get much back on his refund. The only first without a healthcare /insurance form because why tf would Sephiroth have healthcare? What’s he gonna do, get sick?
not getting into how doing his own taxes was definitely a fight between him and Hojo at some point and ended up getting hashed out in a board room. Hojo didn’t like him having the autonomy of filing for himself instead of being claimed ad Hojo’s ‘dependent’. Sephiroth deadass threatened to go to court abt it. The President told Hojo to suck it up so they didn’t have to deal with scandal, Hojo wouldn’t tell Seph his birthday to be difficult, and here we are
Zack: Panicking. Late. Doesn’t know if his forms came in the mail, doesn’t know where he put them most of the time. Scrambles around for a fuck ton of receipts, ultimately has to request Shinra send him his shit again. DEFINITELY pays someone else to do it. W-2, 1095-A, 1099-C(s)(he has several debts i can feel it i love him but he screams bad financial decisions), probably some shit for his bike too. He customs it so I can see him listing some parts he buys for it as work expenses. Jokingly puts some money he gave aerith for flowers and what he spent to make her wagon as donations to charity and it actually goes through because the church is still considered a legal entity. Definitely has to pay late fees.
Cloud: Pays Tifa to do it. Filing for both of them is a nightmare cause all their shit burnt in Nibelheim, so once Edge gets right with the WRO they have to do all their paperwork from scratch and get reassigned SSNs. He genuinely has a fuckton of paperwork from doing the Strife Delivery Service. Luckily, only ‘employee’ he has is Tifa, and even then she doesn’t do things regularly aside from pick up the phone. Doesn’t make his business an LLC until he’s literally forced to due to his number of clients and someone trying to sue him for damages. 1099-NEC for TIfa for sure, then once he’s an LLC, some yearly maintenance to keep legal. Mileage and gas expenses go CRAZY on his self employment form, I fucking bet. I bet Cloud’s handwriting is shit tho. Tifa’s at her desk counting up his gains and losses for fucking ages because his fives look too similar to sixes. Eventually she wrangles him into installing some shit on his phone that counts it up, if only to cure her headache. Funnily enough, he does get veteran benefits from what’s left of Shinra’s shit, reparations of sorts, but he doesn’t keep it. All goes to charity, so that ends up in the books too.
alright, that was unnecessarily in depth and way longer than i planned. good night LMAO
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cowgurrrl · 5 months
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Literally any Joel and reader dancing to “you’re so good when your bad” by charley pride. I know he slow dances like a mf
You’re right and you should say it
You’re So Good When You’re Bad
Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: OH IM SO HOMESICK
Summary: "He looks like he works with his hands and smells like Marlboro Reds." — Our Lord and Savior Ethel Cain aka this ask [1.8k]
Warnings: June pushing her Texas agenda, Joel gets both his daughters in this one because I said so, flirting, alcohol, i think that's it??
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Contrary to popular belief, it's actually pretty easy to love Texas. The longhorns grazing in big green pastures while the sun shines on a clear summer day is enough to capture anyone's heart. An outsider might find the ten-gallon hats and sturdy cowboy boots obnoxious or strange, but you've grown to love them. Maybe because with that acceptance, you've found your own cowboy to love. One part of Texas culture you haven't grasped yet is the dancing. Your boyfriend, Joel, however, loves it.
You met Joel when he and his brother came to do some work at your father's ranch. Honestly, it could've been anything from cutting down a tree to trying to tame a rowdy stallion. You ended up in the garage with him hunched over your car's engine as you worked together to identify where the weird sound was coming from. Joel came in to ask a question about a tree, blueprint, or something when his eyes fell on you. "Oh, 'm sorry, ma'am," he took his hat off in a true form of Southern manners and held out his hand. You met him halfway and introduced yourself before you looked back at your car. "Got a problem?"
"It's just making some noise. We're trying to figure it out, but Dad's eyes aren't as good as they used to be."
"Watch it." Your dad teased, and you and Joel laughed. He stepped a little closer to look under the hood, too. With him that close, you spotted the freckles that dotted his skin and the patches of grey in his beard. When he met your gaze, you felt caught and suddenly way too hot, like a teenager with a crush.
"Mind if I take a look? Might be able to help."
"I thought you were a cowboy, not a mechanic."
"I've done my fair share of both. Thanks to Tommy, we've run through almost every engine problem in the book," he said. "Unless you want to rely on your old man's vision." He was the right amount of teasing and kindness that the sentiment didn't offend your dad. It only made him laugh. He encouraged Joel to take a look and went inside to catch the last half of the UT game, leaving you and Joel in the garage.
You explained more of the problem, handed him tools when he asked for them, and tried to ignore how his biceps flexed when he maneuvered around the machinery. You noticed he was a little bit older than you, but the crow's feet and the salt-and-pepper hair did nothing to deter how your heart pounded when his hand brushed against yours or the way he said, "Thanks, darlin'" when you got him a glass of sweet tea.
"It looks like just a loose part," he said as he leaned away from the open hood and wiped his stained hands on the red bandana hanging out of his pocket. "Go 'head and try it now."
"That's all it took?"
"You don't believe me?" He smirked, and you shook your head.
"I just can't believe it would be that easy."
"What? Your boyfriend couldn't figure it out for ya?"
"Do you really think I'd still come running to my daddy's house if I had a boyfriend?" You raised your eyebrows at him in a silent challenge, knowing you made an opening for him, before walking to your driver's side door and sliding into the seat. Sure enough, when you turned the engine over, the sound disappeared, and everything ran as it should've been. "Alright, maybe I underestimated you." You said as you turned off the car and got out. He gave a faux bow and closed your hood, his big hands lingering on it before he turned to look at you.
Without the hood's shadow in your way, you could fully take in his full lips, messy brown curls, and the oil stain on his cheek. You giggled and pointed to your own face. "You got somethin'," you said, and his hand shot up to the opposite cheek, somehow smearing more on his face. You laughed and grabbed a clean rag from your dad's workbench. "Do you mind?" You asked, raising the cloth halfway to his face, and he blushed.
"Not at all." He said. With a shy smile, you wiped the black marks off his face. A gentle hand on his jaw helped you turn his face this way and that to make sure you got all of it. You remember thinking he was surprisingly pliant at your touch and almost leaned into how your fingers held him. You didn't realize how close the two of you were until your knee bumped against his, but neither of you jumped away.
"There you go," you murmured in a raspy voice, your throat suddenly dry. "Good as new." You lingered there for a few more seconds before you stepped back and threw the dirty towel back when you found it. "So, what do I owe you? For fixing her up?"
"Don't worry 'bout it." He waved you off, and you gave him a look.
"What? No. I can't let you do that."
"It was really nothin'. A loose part, like I said."
"But you still fixed it. I can't let you walk outta here without paying you."
"Tell you what," he said, stepping into your space again. "Let me take you out to dinner, and we'll consider it settled." His eyes twinkled with something mischievous, and you couldn't look away.
"You ask all your client's daughters out?"
"Just the pretty ones." You laughed at how quick he was with it.
"Alright, cowboy. I'll get out with you, but you better make it worth my while."
"Yes, ma'am." He promised. Of course, Joel made good on his promise and treated you to one of the best dates you'd been on in a while. That was six months ago, and somehow, he's still finding ways to give you amazing dates even in between cattle driving and fixing old Mrs. Calahan's rickety porch swing. And, of course, his beautiful teenage daughters, Sarah and Ellie. He hasn't let you down all these months, but you have to admit you were a little skeptical when you first walked into the bar/dance hall. A live band is playing on the stage, and a crowd of people is dancing before them, clad in leather cowboy boots with belts to match. It smells like tobacco, and the warmth from the kitchen makes everything a bit too hot and sticky.
"I don't know about this, Joel." You say when he settles in the seat across from you with two drinks in hand. He gives you a sympathetic look before glancing at the couple's two-stepping around you.
"Look, we don't have to dance. I just thought it'd be good to change things up. We always go to the same places." He reasons.
"Because we like those places." You're a little whiny, but he leans over and kisses your pout away anyway.
"A little adventure never hurt anyone, baby." He's right, but it doesn't make you feel any better. He sighs when he sees how unconvinced you are, but he doesn't give up. "I'll make you a deal. We'll have a drink here, and if you still don't like it, we'll go anywhere you want."
"Okay." You agree, almost certain you'd be able to drain your drink and go somewhere you were more familiar with. But if there's one thing Joel Miller is not, it's a quitter. He distracts you with affection, sweet words, and entertaining stories that he's already up and ordering another round by the time you realize your glass is empty.
Your next two drinks settle your nerves and make the room spin pleasantly around you. Joel, as usual, gets extra clingy when he's had a few and needs to have some point of contact the entire night. His hand roams from yours to your knee to your hair, but you love it. The only time he's willing to let you go is when you get up to go the bathroom, and even then, he pouts until you kiss him and scurry away before he can snatch you back. When you return, Joel is right where you left him with a smirk on his face, and you smile as you step between his knees.
"What're you so giddy about?" You ask. His hands find your waist, and he shakes his head.
"I just like lookin' at ya." He says, and you roll your eyes at him.
"You're drunk." You accuse, but there's no malice in your voice. He shrugs and pulls you closer.
"Now, this one goes out to a friend of ours who requested a very special song for a special lady. Hope y'all enjoy." The guitarist of the country band announces into the microphone. You could be just as drunk as Joel, but you swear he's looking in your direction. There are a few more seconds of silence before they break into the melody, and you immediately recognize the tune. "You're So Good When You're Bad" by Charley Pride was one of the songs you and Joel danced to at Tommy and Maria's wedding. You hadn't heard the song in forever and practically dragged Joel to the dance floor, and it, somehow, became your guys' song.
"Was this your doing?" You ask, and he shrugs as he stands and takes your hand.
"Must've been luck." He says simply and walks you to the dance floor. You're aware of all the eyes on you two and get a little anxious, but when Joel pulls you to his chest, it all fades away. He's sturdy against you. His calloused hand holds yours, and his other hand guides your waist while your fingers rest against the fabric covering his broad shoulder. He chuckles when you step on his toes but doesn't complain. He just redirects your footsteps and quietly sings the words into your temple, his lips brushing your skin in the process. He smells like pine wood and leather, and you find yourself pressing closer to his warmth.
Slowly and like you're the only people in the world, you guys dance in your own little circle, with Joel throwing in an occasional spin or kiss. You remember him telling you stories about getting dragged into quinceañera courts and debutante balls when he was a kid, but you never expected all that dancing to rub off onto Joel. You realized it when you first danced with him at Tommy's wedding but didn't think much of it. Now, as he holds you firmly and helps guide your drunk feet, you see it so clearly. He's a perfect partner, and all you want to do is stay wrapped up in his strong arms like this forever.
So, maybe you could master the art of Texas dancing if Joel's there to help. You think you could do anything with your cowboy and his heart of gold on your side.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
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stagefoureddiediaz · 17 days
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honestly maybe it's just me but buck is literally repeating the same steps as with natalia and taylor as with tommy. they meet, he has a crush, go on a date, it's awful and the date leaves, they then come back, then try for real. Like it sounds like even though Buck is off the hamster wheel in regards to his sexuality he very much is still on the hamster wheel when it comes to repetitive mistakes when it comes to his relationships.
Hey Nonnie
I woudn't say that at all. Yes of course there are some similarities - there always will be - between Buck dating Tommy and the Buck who dated Taylor or Natalia. But the reality is they are worlds apart.
For starters Tommy didn't leave because the date was awful, he left to give Buck some space to do a bit more figuring out - he said so himself that his what he was doing. He chose to leave the ball in Bucks court, understanding this was a big new thing for him and that it wouldn't be right to continue anything until Buck was ready. Buck then contacted him when he was and they met up and decided mutually to give things ago.
This is very different to both Taylor and Natalia - both of whom left after something big had happened in Bucks life (Eddie being shot and Kameron popping up out of seemingly nowhere) and then they were the ones to come back - to chase after Buck.
Look we can have whole conversations about the chasing being chased aspect of things but the long and short of it is That both Taylor and (to a lesser extent) Natalia, Ali and Abby chased Buck in one way or another and when it suited them. Tommy has never chased Buck - he shot his shot, sure, made his interest known, but he hasn't once chased Buck. Buck has always mistaken things for him doing the chasing (he is an very unreliable narrator) becuse he gets invested fast and so pursues things. His mistake is moving to fast - falling to quickly for people.
This is the major fundamental difference with Tommy, who is older and wiser and settled with who he is and what he wants. He also has the understanding of being queer and coming out later in life - of discovering that part of yourself that has been hidden and the fact it might take Buck a minute to figure out things.
The other big thing for me is the level of honest Buck is being here - this isn't something we've seen before in this way. He has been completely up front with Tommy when it has been important for him to be so (I would argue he did do the same for Natalia but that he was more forced into it by circumstance). That coffee they had was a very very clear example of that, he sat down, appologised and laid his cards out on the table. He's told the two most important people in his life that he's bi and interested in Tommy and yes maybe going to a wedding is a bit fast, but he also knows most of the people there so he's not walking in to a big unknown in t hat respect and he has a lot of goodwill with the firefam at this moment after flying them to the curise ship so they could rescue Athena and Bobby.
In all honesty I'm far more circumspect about Natalias behaviour as well - far more than a large portion of fandom was towards her. Did I like her as a character or for Buck, No I didn't, but she also didn't do all that much wrong in my eyes, her wanting to take a minute when presented with all that Bucks life is, to think things through before jumping into something is perfectly acceptable and healthy behaviour. The reality is that she was more interested in Bucks death than she was in his life and thats probably what brought her back - that itching need to know more about his death and what it was like.
But she came into his life when he was in a rough place mentally and it was never going to go well for that reason alone. All of Bucks girlfriends have that in common - they met him on the job and then come inot his life when he is having some form of internal crisis. Abby when he had just lost his first person on the job - making him emotionally vulnerable. Ali when he's accepted his relationship with Abby wasn't going anywhere a new guy had just started at work (yes they were getting on by this point but it is still new and an unknown) and his sister had just come back into his life after having had no contact for several years - and he knows she's in a fragile place. Taylor messes hm around but when she comes back into his life and wants to date him - Eddie has just been shot and he's looking after Christopher - he's massively emotionally compromised. None of these are good times to start a romantic relationship.
That isn't the case with Tommy - Bucks actually in a pretty decent place - yes the whole discovering he's queer could be argued as making him emotionally compromised, but he's being given the grace to do things at his own pace - in a healthy way - Tommy is letting Buck dictate the pace they go at.
We also have to remember that we are in a tv show - every single character who isn't a main (or to a certain extent a recurring) is there to act as a storytelling vehicle for one of the mains - their character traits are always going to be those which help get a main character from A to B, to move the story along and to make sure our mains learn something about themselves and their fellow mains along the way.
Abby was about getting Buck from being a bit of a clueless player into a long term (ish) relationship - about growing him out of his jock ways and getting him (and us) to recognise that he isn't a player that he wants real love and a long term relationship. Ali was about him getting over his first big disappointment - about getting hm to move on and about getting him his own place to exist. Taylor was about learning what love didn't look like, about how to treat others and showing him what he wasn't looking for and teaching him not to compromise on his morals. Natalia was all about Buck reconciling himself with his death and rebirth and as soon as he had done that, she was gone.
Tommy is about Buck discovering his queer identity, having a safe space to explore that and about getting him ready for Eddie - its why Tommy is soooo similar to Eddie - Buck will come out of this relationship (whatever form it takes) understanding who he is, and recognising what he wants is what he already almost has - Eddie.
Tommy is also about helping manoeuvre Eddie into questioning himself - another reason why he is so similar to Eddie - Eddie needed to see a gay version of himself - and with Buck to actually start thinking about himself and who he is and what he wants.
So all this to say that Nonnie - Buck has very much got off that hamster wheel and he is very much not making the same mistakes over again. I'm very excited to see how it continues to play out and I'm overjoyed with how the show is handling telling this story.
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notenoughncise · 3 months
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Pretty Baby - Part 1
word count: 2.5k
warnings: alcohol, sex themes but no actual smut
a tightly wound y/n is quite literally knocked off her feet by matty. unbeknownst to her, the boys are playing in the bar she works in. when matty trips over her later in the night, he can’t contain himself.
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pretty baby, you look so heavenly
a neo-nebular from under the sun
i was forming, some say i had my chance
the boys were falling like an avalanche
FEBRUARY
you hold your jacket closed with your fist as you run across the street. you didn’t have time to zip it up, you barely had time to grab your phone and put your hair up. it’s fucking freezing. clouds of hot breath appear and disappear as quickly as they came. you check the time on your phone; 5:58.
maybe you’ll make it before 6. if you keep running you can just bolt through the staff door and be on the bar in like a minute and maybe then your boss won’t pull you into the office to scream at you for the 3rd time this week. but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
“what the fuck?!” you shout, feeling the air knock out of your chest in an instant as you land on the ground.
“oh shit, sorry. you alright, darlin’?”
there’s a guy standing over you, cig dangling from his lips, hand held out to help you up. if your jaw wasn’t clenched shut from the pain of falling it would’ve been on the floor. dark curls fall over his warm brown eyes, his cigarette stuck to cracked pink lips. for a brief second you find yourself imagining what they would feel like on yours. does he taste like cigarette smoke? or does he just think he looks cool if he has one every so often. what a life it would be, you think, to feel the rough skin of his lips against your skin. to have him drag those cracked lips across your clit. jesus christ. it’s been a while. a serious while. such a serious while that you’re genuinely sat sprawled out on the road and all you can think about is this guy going down on you.
you’re too lost in indecent thoughts about the boy who just knocked you over to properly realise that he’s holding his hand out for you. he looks embarrassed. good. he should be. but the blush in his cheeks makes him look even prettier than he already is. fuck sake - you think, taking his hand in order to pull yourself up. pain shoots through one of your legs and up your side as you come to your feet. rough fingers wrap around your wrist for more support. if he wasn’t so good looking you’d have probably punched him by now.
“sorry, darlin’. i wasn’t looking where i was going, and this thing weighs about twice as much as me.”
you notice for the first time he’s holding a giant guitar case (presumably with the guitar inside), which must’ve been what knocked you down. makes sense, he’s too scrawny to have sent you flying like that. and while he’s scrawny he’s not scrawny. he’s got a white muscle tank on which shows off his arms, despite it being february. they’re toned, almost muscly but not quite enough; probably from lugging that massive guitar case around everywhere. you can’t take your eyes off him. and then you have to.
“shit man, it’s 6.05. we're s’posed to be on in ten.” you can’t see who the voice belongs to, but it doesn’t matter. you feel your eyes go wide.
“fuck.” you whisper, dusting yourself down and readjusting the strap of your work bag. “hey, look man, it’s honestly no worries. i really gotta go - i’m late and my boss is a total wanker even if it’s just a couple minutes.”
he laughs lightly, it’s so gentle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t so glued to his face. the sound makes your stomach twist in knots. you hadn’t realised that he was still holding onto your hand. it might be cold enough for you to pretend it’s the weather making your cheeks so red.
“thanks for helping me up, though.” you say, sheepishly letting go of his hand; not really wanting to but knowing it had to happen.
is it normal to be this weak at the knees for someone you’ve known for all of five minutes? probably not, but it can’t hurt to be delusional every so often. you don’t wait for his response, starting to sprint off to minimise the bollocking you’re about to get when you wander through that staff entrance, but he shouts after you.
“anytime, love. even if i need to knock you off your feet again for it to happen.”
you shake your head and laugh quietly. you don’t turn back to look at him, because you’re honestly not convinced if you look that you’ll stop looking. but if you’d turned your head for just a second you would’ve seen the boy looking after you, getting punched on the arm by his mates, and those pretty pink lips turning upwards in a crooked smile.
-
“and what fucking time do you call this exactly?y/l/n?”
you’re leaning against the inside of the fire exit, breathing so heavily that you think your chest might explode. instinct takes over your body before common sense does as you raise your middle finger at your manager.
“i overslept okay? and then some idiot out there smacked me into the road with his guitar case. so if you don’t mind—”, you pause to look at your phone, “i think 6.08 is not that bad.”
“y/n, it’s a friday night. do you know how busy it is out there? you gotta start showing up on time, i can only bail you out for so long.” he almost looks sympathetic, and you would almost believe him if you didn’t know how much of a cunt he was.
“every single other girl in this building would’ve called and said she wasn’t coming in. you know that. i’m fucking here, okay? give me a minute to fix my hair and i’ll be on the bar.”
the rage in your tone is undeniable, as is the truth in your statement. you and him had spent so many weekends alone on that bar. running around the place like a pair of twats. you always showed up. always. you hear him sigh, watching him shake his head out of the corner of your eye.
“fuck sake.” he seethes, starting to walk away from you. “make it fast, yeah? between you and that fucking band being late I’ve a queue up the bloody street.”
for a second you consider just kicking the door open and going home. you’ve taken so much shit from this place over the years that sometimes you aren’t sure how much more of it you can take. you take a deep breath, pulling your hair out from your clasp and running your fingers through it to smooth it out, before quickly twisting it back up into a half arsed ponytail. as you exhale you can’t help but think about the pack of cigs that you left lying on your bed earlier.
cursing the fact you’d had to survive a friday night in this shithole pub with no fags, you let your mind wander back to the boy for a brief second. the image of that fucking cig dangling from his lips made your whole body pulse. do you wish you had been braver? a little more flirty? asked for a draw, and left him pining after you? only you hadn’t had time. or you would’ve. it was a crime to leave such a good looking man in your rearview mirror.
you could feel yourself clenching at the thought of his fingers around your wrist again. his calloused, rough fingertips trailing your chest; gently caressing your tits; dragging up your slit.
“oi! are you coming through or fucking what?”
“jesus christ.” you mumble to yourself, finding the strength to pull yourself off the door and through to the bar.
-
in all your years as a barmaid here you had never seen the place so busy. the room was so packed that you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the band that was playing; couldn’t even hear a note off them either. but you didn’t need to hear them in order to know exactly what kind of band they were - barely 18 year old after barely 18 year old leaned over the bar to shout for a vodka diet coke, giggling to their friends about the lead singer while they fumbled for their ID’s and riffled through their purses for a tenner. your thumb was pulsing from pushing on the draft tap so often, head pounding from the lack of nicotine.
“hiiiiii! can i have two shots of tequila rose, please? and two glasses of malbec?”
“fucking hell, that’s quite the combination, love.” you laugh at the young girl across from you. she can’t be much older than all the other girls in here, but she had a much more chill vibe about her. “you got any ID on you?”
“oh yeah, sorry, here it is,” she mumbles, fighting with the clasp on her bag. “sorry i’ve changed my hair since I got the photo done.”
you smile and hand it back to her, turning your back to get her drinks.
“what’s the deal with them anyways?” you ask her, placing her wine on the bar. “every girl in a ten mile radius under the age of twenty seems to be in here tonight.”
“aw mate, don’t.” she laughs back at you. “i’m just here because my brother’s the bassist, but every single girl in here is convinced that matty is god’s gift to this earth.”
she taps her card to the machine, thanking you genuinely. as she wanders back over to her table the sea of people suddenly starts to disperse. you quickly pull your phone out of your back pocket; 11.40pm. last orders were coming up. thank fuck. even though it was only a seven hour shift it felt a million years long when bands were on. the whole bar had to get cleared out, cleaned, and the band had to get all of their shit out. usually turning a seven hour shift into a near enough nine hour one.
you survive the next five minutes, then ring the bell for last orders. and of course every fifty something man decides he needs six pints of guinness. and of course every young girl is panic buying shots like they’ll never see them again. and of course you’ve just split an entire bottle of cherry sourz down the front of you while trying to change the spout.
“dan?! can you finish this off, i need to change this shirt - i’m fucking covered in sourz.”
he looks as done in as you feel, handing you a dish towel and tucking a cig behind your ear as you speed off.
“lighter’s in the office. you look like you need it.” he jokes. he’s alright sometimes, but you’d never admit that out loud. especially not in his earshot.
the bliss of the first draw in the cold february air is borderline orgasmic. you shrug off your sticky top and sit on the back step for a bit. it’s no big deal, every member of staff ever employed here has seen your tits at this point.
you’ve only got a draw or two left when the wind’s knocked out of you for the second time this evening. you topple off the step, landing on your back on the concrete. it isn’t a hard fall, but it isn’t exactly comfortable.
“oh fuck, oh god. i'm so sorry, are you alright, darlin’?” tour heart perks up at the familiar voice. you lift your head up off the ground to be met with dark curls and soft brown eyes, a furrowed brow and a panicked expression hovering over you.
“we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” you laugh softly, slowly pulling yourself up off the ground.
“jesus, i’m so, so sorry, angel.” he says getting down in front of you, brushing some of the dirt off of your shoulders.
you watch his face as his eyes trail down to your chest, his breath audibly hitching. every hair on your body stands on edge. and what the fuck was actually going on? you don’t even know this boy’s name and you’re kneeled in front of him as he openly eyes your tits.
the air around the two of you feels so heavy. neither of you say anything, but he leans forward. you feel panic surge in your chest, almost embarrassed at the fact you can feel yourself getting wet. but he only wipes his thumb under your eye; “eyelash,” he says softly. “make a wish.”
you shut your eyes gently, silently wishing for a kiss as you blow the eyelash off his thumb. your cheeks burn even hotter. pussy clenching. this is fucking ridiculous. but you’ve never seen a man like him in your life.
“good girl.” he whispers. and you stifle a moan. you watch as he smirks, loving every bit of control he seems to have over you.
“i don’t even know your name.” you whisper back.
“matty,” he tells you, placing his hand on your waist under the guise of keeping you steady, “does knowing that make you feel better about being on your knees for me?”
your breath hitches. your face is so close to his that you can see every little imperfection. but it just makes him look even better.
“this is fucking insane.”
“yeah. little bit, angel.”
in an instant, he closes the gap between you both. soft lips roughly kissing you. for a second you don’t know what to do, but your brain kicks into gear eventually and you kiss him back. he tastes like cigarette smoke and wine. you whine gently into his mouth as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you feel him gripping your waist tighter. fuck.
you don’t know how long the kiss lasts. both of you resisting the urge to take it further, considering you were on the ground outside a fire exist in the depths of winter. but it’s hard. he’s got one hand cupping your cheek still, the other now kneading your tits. your fingers are fumbling with the button on his jeans when you hear the office door slam.
you pull off matty. getting to your feet and shoving on your sourz soaked t shirt. you wander back inside. leaving him kneeled on the concrete.
“sorry,” you breathe out, “kinda forgot that i’m meant to be working.”
he laughs, rubbing his face with his hands, the same hands that not even 30 seconds ago were leaving bruises on your hips.
“s’all good darlin’. i’ll be back next week anyways.” he winks.
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chubphoe-linkclick · 1 month
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People like to point to a lot of random scenes in Link Click to justify why ShiGuang being romantic is canon. Now, I'm not the creator of Link Click, I have no authority on the subject. So most the time, it's a "lets agree to disagree" situation.
However, there is one scene from Episode 1 that I find down-right offensive for people to point to as evidence of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang being an item:
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There is no doubt that this scene is incredibly beautiful and loving, but romance isn't what makes this scene beautiful, nor is it what makes the bond they share so touching and engaging to watch. The fact that they honest-to-God love and care about each other is.
What makes this particular scene really lovely is information we're given later in the show. Its full tenderness only clicks in hindsight once we know more about the characters and Cheng Xiaoshi's past. Specifically, when we understand more about how their powers work and the tragic fact that Xiaoshi is (effectively) an orphan.
So we need to back up a few steps.
The scene begins with us seeing Emma dreaming about her parents, and we eventually see a visual representation of how Cheng Xiaoshi is also experiencing this dream as her, taking on her feelings.
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Then there's her parents leaving, metaphorical for how out of her life they are now and how much Emma misses her parents (duh).
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The fun part comes from the fact that it's not Emma we see as a child at this point, but Xiaoshi. He is being left behind by his parents.
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Look at this face. IT'S THE FACE OF PAIN, and for me it honestly didn't make sense why this dream was as emotionally impactful for him as it was (on my first watchthrough).
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Afterwards Cheng Xiaoshi wakes up, and Lu Guang notices this. At times like this, I really appreciate the dub for localising what's being said better than the more literal subtitles (even though the dub definitely says some shit that just ain't true). The dub's word choices are:
LG: "You're up?" CXS: "I dreamt that I had spring rolls with my parents." LG: "Folks on your mind?" CXS: "Yeah, and they're on hers as well."
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LG: "When you became her, you took on some of her feelings and her memories. It must be tough." CXS: "... I wonder if they'll come back."
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and then Cheng Xiaoshi rolls over and starts hugging himself tightly because of the unbearable pain
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It takes a hot second for Lu Guang to realise what Cheng Xiaoshi actually means by his statement, that the 'they' in question is his own parents rather than anyone in Emma's life. Naturally, Lu Guang understands that Cheng Xiaoshi is suffering immensely right now because Xiaoshi's being forced to feel the agonising hole is his life that came from the worst thing that ever happened to him.
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And so, he reaches through time and space (metaphorically?) to comfort him, his all-time best friend and, yes, potential romantic partner, telling him that "It will work out, just rest." Because SWEET JESUS, WHO WOULDN'T TRY COMFORTING THEIR FRIEND IN THAT MOMENT!? WHO??
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It's beautiful. It's sweet. It's loving. It shows how in-tune they are to each other and that they care about each other's well being. No macho shit here, only a wholesome connection that we are all jealous of and celebrate.
Bonus analysis: knowing Cheng Xiaoshi's emotional state at this point, his re-suffering of the pain from being separated from his parents, then makes the message from Emma's mother and his reaction to it all the more emotionally touching.
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Maybe the reason he sent the reply "I miss you" wasn't even for Emma's sake in that moment, but a result of the line between his own loneliness and hers having become so blurred in that sleepy moment.
I'd just like to clarify again, if you think they're gay together: cool. If you think this scene is the reason why: not cool.
Romance isn't the highest form of love, and it's not gay or weird to love your friends. What Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang have is really beautiful, and I honestly don't think I've ever seen such a great depiction of two men who are so comfortably close to each other.
Whether their relationship is platonic or otherwise doesn't really matter here. What upsets me is the unhealthy elevation of romantic love as the most true and purest form of love over all other kinds -- that you can only care about someone this much and want them in your life ONLY if you want to marry them or something -- an idea that ends up hurting a lot of people.
Romance isn't what makes this scene beautiful, nor is it what makes the bond they share so touching and engaging to watch. The fact that they honest-to-God love and care about each other is.
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